Thread: Two Belles of the Ball on a Stage Too Small - ( Erebus & Crescent )

img200x315 ---------------------------------- The hollow clacking of tan, heeled boots on the wooden stage turned to a heavier thunk as Jean passed into the concrete laden backstage area. Determined steps led her past cast and crew with nary a word to offer them. Several of them gave notice of having heard the commotion up front. They're eyes looks sought some acknowledgement from Jean, which was exactly her chin angled down and her her pace stayed just shy of a quick jog. Short huddling beneath a hood and wearing opaque shades like a movie star trying to slip inside a club unnoticed, she knew she could do nothing to hide the tears trailing down her flushed face. Jean might have tried it had she an option other than her v-neck tshirt. They assumptions and judgments they must have held - 'What is she on about now?', 'There's Jean being a brat again', 'What a drama queen' - rang in the young woman's imagination as if they echoed about in the cramped space. Taking a right in the back hallway, Jean strutted by Jorge, a curly mustached lighting tech and a friend. He too stared at the emotional display on her face, only with an expression of concern. Hey Jean, what's goin..., Jorge's sentence was cut short as Jean raised a flat hand, palm out, between them in passing. Her aggressive stride carried her into the break room, consisting of a small kitchenette and a large industrial-style steel table. Only a stop in her route, Jean snatched her bag from the table, pivoted about and retreated out the same entrance, leading her past Jorge once again. There was no attempt to raise an explanation a second time. Bag in hand, Jean stepped off the past she had just followed by going straight and heavily palming the push open door marked as a fire exit. With the alarm long malfunctioning, probably disabled, the door outside served a different use, one the fire marshal was unlikely to approve of. Sunlight shone down brightly on Jean there in the venue's back alley. Her eyes blinked away from the light, but rather than reaching for her sunglasses, she dug right to the bottom of her bag for an unopened pack of Newports and a red Bic lighter. Just as she found them, the fire door began to swing away from her. Shit! Jean took a dashing step to just hook her hand around the edge to prevent it from shutting and locking her out. After drawing it fully open again and kicking the conveniently placed wedge of concrete into place, she slumped herself against the blackened brick wall. Jean let her bag drop to the concrete and began thumping the source of her much needed nicotine fix against the palm of her left hand. The familiar motion served to stall Jean's spiraling emotions and offer her an opportunity to breathe out the tension she'd been carrying in her shoulders since fleeing the stage. She yanked off open the pull tab on her Newports and plucked the bottom-left most stick free, bringing it to her lips and inhaling as she flicked the lighter to life at the opposite end. One lengthy lung filling inhale, and she extracted the cigarette between two fingers, flopped her head back against the brick, and let loose the billowy smoke. The release she achieved from that first puff showed in a softened expression and a sinking in her posture. Finally reflecting on the moment, Jean felt a tinge of regret for her mini tirade. Yes, she was completely justified in being upset. The way they had jerked her around from the beginning was so uncool - failing to make a leading role decision in tryouts, fueling this bullshit competition between her and Lily, and now this. Who'd ever heard of a split role, let alone on Broadway!? Dave was just an indecisive buffoon. Who could guess how he came to lead this production in the first place. Erin, the casting director, had seemed nice from the beginning, so far as anyone could read through her toady little smile. Ever since, though, she'd seemed content to watch Jean twist in the wind of uncertainty. Despite all this, she had no real intent to walk out on the part. They had her, and it stung her pride. The young woman gazed up between the two buildings as she exhaled another trail of smoke. Across the street from where they ended stood the billboards of a dozen other productions. Les Mis, Wicked, The King and I what she wouldn't give to star in a high profile such a profile show. She laughed a wry chuckle as she thoughts followed further along those lines. There always existed that favorite rumor of who slept with whom for their part. Thankfully, Jean had not felt the need to resort to that at this point in her career. Letting another puff of smoke drift from her lips, she turned back to the open doorway just in time to notice Lily rounding the corner and looking in her direction. Her eyes rolled away from the sight, and her head followed suit. The absolute last person Jean wanted for company, and a sideways glance confirmed the woman headed her way. Suddenly her half-finished smoke lost its soothing nature, and her mouth tasted of bitter ash. A hint of the anger Jean expressed on stage began to simmer up within her again as she recalled how....unaffected Lily appeared when Dave broke the news. That 'better than all this' attitude she'd put off from the very start was exactly what incensed Jean so much. Without offering anything in the way of eye contact, she spoke out first, What is it now? Can't you see I'm...busy? She released another smokey breath out the side of her mouth, leaving it wafting into the doorway. You could literally go anywhere else right now. Her tone, deeply sarcastic, was tinged again with that resentful bite.