Work Text:
It’s always the same movements. I don’t define myself as superstitious, but we never know. I close my eyes for three seconds and nod to myself before I pass the curtain. I step on the stage with my right foot. I inhale and exhale sharply before my first line. Always. It’s different every time, but it’s always the same in some way. Not tonight. Tonight, there’s something else. An energy in the audience. It’s there, somehow palpable. I can feel it in my flesh, in my bones. But I don’t know why. I can’t explain. There’s no words to describe what it is. It’s just floating in the air. We already played once today, and I thought it would be exhausting to play twice a day for three hours. It’s not. I feel carried by the audience and thrilled by the adrenaline, even more than earlier. Whatever is happening, it helps me to surpass myself tonight. I will probably collapse on the first couch I’ll find later, but for now, Blanche has taken the wheel and I let her drive with delight.
At the intermission, I take two glasses of fresh water. Always. I hug Ben and Vanessa in silence. We don’t want to step out of our characters too much, but we need this physical reassurance. Then I go to my dressing room. On my way, I always see those two security guys. We always politely and quietly bow. I don’t want to interrupt their conversation, and they don’t want to interrupt my concentration. It’s a respectful tacit agreement between the three of us. Earlier, I heard one of them talking about his son losing at his ball game. Tonight, they’re more… giddy. They’re talking about how hot is Lucy Liu tonight. I didn’t know she was there. She’s the first celebrity who comes to see the play. Maybe the special energy I felt on stage was due to her presence. It’s always different when there’s someone famous in the audience. For the public, of course, but also for us. It’s a nice feeling to feel support from by our peers. I hope we could have a chat later. I hope she enjoys the play.
When I put my hand on the handle to open the door of my changing room, the other security guy says something that makes my heart leap. “I saw Mulder too.” Is there any real person named Mulder in this world? Probably. But he adds “You know, the X-Files guy.” I feel like someone punched my stomach and I can’t breathe for a second. Like an automatism, I enter the room and sit in front of the mirror. My desk in surrounded by gifts from the fans, mostly Chewbacca related, and the flowers David sends me every two days. Mulder. X-Files. David. He’s here.
When I left him this morning, he kissed my lips and said “Break a leg, my love” like every morning since I arrived in his city. Sometimes it’s in his apartment, sometimes at my hotel, depends on my state of fatigue, but we never spent a night without each other. I thought he’d come tomorrow, even if we had an agreement. I didn’t want to know when he shows up. I didn’t want to spend the play searching for him in the audience, trying to analyze his reactions or looking for his gaze for reassurance. I didn’t want to feel this pressure on my shoulders. It would be so Gillian and so not Blanche. Now I understand what I felt on this stage. It wasn’t Lucy Liu. It was him. He surprised everybody, even me, and the fans are probably excited to have him there. I hesitate to text him. I could tell him to come see me. I could use a little bit of his tenderness before I go back on stage. But it would be a really bad idea. I know I wouldn’t be able to play such a damaged and miserable character if my handsome and happy boyfriend came to take me in his arms. I decide to stick to my routine and ignore his presence as much as possible.
Weird how being on stage can make you forget everything. It’s only when the lights switch on and the audience rises for a standing ovation that I catch his eyes. How couldn’t I? He’s probably the tallest and largest man in this room. When I see this short woman stroking his back, I feel a half a second of “what the fuck?” but then I recognize Laurie. I smile to them, I want him to know that I saw him and then I rotate on myself to greet the audience, like I always do.
I barely had the time to change my clothes than someone knocks at my door. I know it’s him because, who else could feel free to enter my changing room even before I said “come in?” I hug Laurie first, but my eyes are locked with his. He smiles. He looks quite proud of himself, or proud of me. I’m not sure.
“You were… astonishing up there,” he says and strokes my arm gently while I’m still hugging his sister.
I finally let go of her to rush into his arms. He has no idea how much this is exactly what I need every night when the show is over. His large and hard chest to lean my head on. His long and strong arms to hold me. His sweet and musky scent to reassure me. I’m aware of the fact that when we’re together with someone else, we can make him or her feel like the third wheel really quickly and that’s not what I want for Laurie. But maybe she felt my needs, or David’s, I don’t know, because she obviously fakes a phone call and leaves the room whispering “I’ll be back.”
“I don’t have a lot of time. I want to go signing before we leave.” I tell him.
He nods, and cups my face. His thumbs stroke my cheeks gently, wiping out the rest of makeup I had still on, and his head leans down to kiss me.
Playing such a character for three hours every night is an emotional and intense journey that no one can understand except the few people on Earth who have done it. I feel a rush of many feelings running in my veins, making my heart beat faster when his lips touch mine, and I can’t hold my tears. It’s whether that, or the fact that he came. I know it’s a big step forward for him. Supporting my work in public, acknowledging the fans that we have a relationship, whatever it is, and that we live private moments like these. That’s why I was so confident he’d show up tomorrow. It would have been more official, but less special. I’m proud of him. I’m proud of us.
He breaks the kiss when one of my tear flows on his lips. We don’t need to talk. I know he knows that I’m moved by his presence. That I’m thankful to have him in my life. I pull out of his embrace and take a tissue to wipe my tears.
“Do you want to go signing with me?” I propose.
He shakes his head no. “There’re here for you, not for me.” He takes my hand and puts a lingering kiss on my palm. “I’m just an anonymous spectator. In fact, I’ve got to go get in line for your autograph if I don’t want to miss you!”
I laugh and put a last soft kiss on his lips. “You can stay here, I won’t be long.”
“Baby?” he says just before I get out of the room. “I love you.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, allowing his words to wrap around me before I leave. I know when I’ll be done, he’ll still be here, waiting for me to go back home, and somehow, it warms my heart. I know the fans will ask what happened and if he liked the play, and if he came to see me afterwards, but they will never know. I may or may not tease and play with them. But this moment, this special moment will be ours forever. Just ours. Always.