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‘Can we try that again?’ Alaric sighed as he pulled his eyes away from the woman across from him. Her green gown reflected the setting sun in the distance. They had spent hours on this one scene, and he could tell everyone was getting frustrated – with him specifically. That was obvious from the sigh David let out. It made him wince.
‘You have been saying that for an hour, Hastings.’ He huffed before waving them both away. ‘Go rehearse in your own time. Clarice, Anneke, Fiora, we’re running Façade.’ He made a gesture of exasperation before shooting a look to the three women nearby who eagerly rushed the stage. Guilt set in as he realised how long they’d been waiting to rehearse. The show was only set to run a few nights in Bogs Hollow, so David had decided they needed the least rehearsal upon its stage. The one that people covered with their garbage when they passed, making a mockery of the art that graced it. Which made sense, they made a mockery of their faith, it made Alaric uneasy as well.
He almost smiled at Anneke shooting him a half-encouraging thumbs up as she ascended the stage beside her castmates. She was sweet and sincere, but he knew it wasn’t true. He was slowing them all down at this rate. He regarded Clarice’s scornful look as a more deserved reaction to him delaying her. She suited the troll costume. The scornful thought crossed his mind often, but only when he noticed her wilful unkindness to his fellow players and her propensity for damaging the set when she thought no one was looking.
An expectant hum prompted him to remember to stop glaring at her. He looked down, not noticing a gentle hand coming to pat his arm. He looked over at his cousin, her blonde wig fastened on to cover her usual bright red hair. Fiora smiled, and it struck him how different she was from the wicked troll she played. The pink dress was too big on her, but they made do with the resources they had. Alaric made a mental reminder to get her a new dress with his next paycheque. He had inherited his parents’ sense of duty to his family, Bertram and Fiora were some of the only people he had left.
‘You’ll get it.’ She said briefly before passing him to go to the stone stage. He was grateful for her support even if it felt undeserved. It was. He seemed to struggle with honesty. Both in his characters and in himself. The balcony scene with Ella was really… quite the scene. He wished he hadn’t put his hand up for the role to begin with.
He followed his scene partner to a clear space away from the stage, rubbing at his temples in frustration. He wished he were able to take direction without his own discomfort creeping through. David thought a second act romance would drive the plot forward, which for Alaric meant getting very comfortable with the idea of having eyes for a woman. Sigrid was lovely, of course she was. She was a good friend, an ear that would always listen to him as he lamented his romantic woes. Or woe. There was really only one, and he was not present.
‘It really was the first time you’ve told a woman she’s pretty, huh?’ Sigrid asked with a small giggle as she took a seat on a rostrum block, legs crossed beneath her long gown. Her hair was not styled for the scene yet, but Alaric had seen his brother blush when he saw it. Bertram was infinitely charmed by anything that woman did.
‘Hey.’ He huffed pointedly as he took a moment to calm himself, undoing the buttons on his overcoat. ‘Don’t let anyone hear you say that…’ He looked around like anyone was listening instead of focusing on the scene on stage. Barely any of the cast was present that day, Cyprian had taken the day off, complaining about needing optimum rest to deliver his performance. His supporting role. Alaric really remembered Cyprian’s unnecessary rage when he discovered that Alaric got the leading male role. He suited The Prince.
‘Oh please, we all know by now.’ She rolled her eyes, looking at him with a gentle smile. ‘But really… What’s going on? You freeze up every time.’ She had been running her scenes with him for a week now, and she had begun to notice his distraction. ‘Is it because it feels creepy? Because I know it does! But David insisted and I promise I’m not going to feel uncomfortable, I know you don’t enjoy it.’
‘I think Cyprian has creepy covered.’ Alaric laughed prompting a relieved sigh from Sigrid. So, he was willing to talk to her after all. ‘I… I just try not to think about it as you. It feels wrong because of-’
‘Bertram, yes.’ Sigrid blushed softly at that. She was beyond denying her affections for Alaric’s younger brother. He may have been hidden behind a frog puppet the entire show, but Sigrid was still able to admire him. ‘I was thinking of scaring him on stage one night, kissing his head instead of the puppet’s.’ She said it like a conspiracy, with an almost evil laugh despite the school-girl nature of her crush.
‘He would probably faint, you know that.’ Alaric recalled a similar incident when she wore her ballgown the first time. ‘I feel like I should be more protective of him, but you would do him some good, he needs to not be as scared all the time.’
‘Like you?’ Her tone became honest, clear. Alaric shrunk back at that. Sigrid did not let up. ‘We all see how you look at him; how you feel about him… He’s selfish and arrogant but… He’s sweet and funny, and he likes you too.’
‘No, he doesn’t.’
‘Don’t interrupt me.’ Sigrid pointed at him sharply. ‘He does love you the same way you do him. That’s why I don’t think you can do that scene; it’s the closest thing to being honest with yourself. With how you feel about him. Even if I’m not him. It’s the same way I feel dancing with Cyprian.’
‘Don’t say you wish it was my brother.’ Alaric protested. He avoided admitting that she was right. She understood his feelings and his fears, better than he did.
‘Fine, I can compromise there.’ She laughed and rested her hand firmly on his arm. ‘We’ll practice later, alright? Go home, read a book or something, just don’t think about this now. We can wait.’
‘If I do, you can’t have Bertram walk you home.’ He insisted.
‘No promises.’ She patted his arm before standing, winking.