(no subject)
Challenge: [o12] Performance
Title: Stage
Word Count: 594 words
To some, the stage is just a stage. I always take time to stand on the stage by myself, to reflect on the view I will always see. Sometimes, I’m late for the show and get to Milton’s in time for sound check- so, I wait until the theatre empties. It’s never just a stage for me- it’s just where I stand, where I want to be. Sometimes, I forget to look into the crowd. I glance over, the lights may be too bright, or I don’t give it any thought. I’m always staring at my guitar or at Hallie or the others. I have to watch out for cues or signs of a disaster in the making. The other night, in November, I remember seeing Raul in the crowd. He was average and no different than any other teenager in town. I wasn’t looking for him, and I never do but he always goes to my shows. But I saw him with Matthew and I wasn’t really expecting him to bring Matthew tonight.
Why?
Yesterday, I gave him two tickets for tonight’s show I managed to snag from the vender and I wasn’t going to use them. When I handed them to him, his face fell.
“What’s the matter?”
He eyed the tickets. “Charlotte wants to go and see you guys,”
“Awesome, take her, dude!” I was pretty excited; he had wanted to see Charlotte since June.
“ . . . But Mattie wants to go, we always go together.”
“Well, Matthew likes the shows more than Charlotte does- take him!”
He shook his head and sat on the nearest counter. “No- you don’t get it. Charlotte’s talking to me now. I have to get on her good side for this.” Raul explained.
“What? I thought you and Matthew were going out!”
“No- not until I can get Charlotte back, anyway.”
And here he was- standing in the crowd with Matthew. I watched them for a moment. I didn’t envy Raul, not one bit.
“So, you’re going to mess with both of them?” I asked, smirking.
He eyed me. “You make it seem so . . .” Raul paused, trying to think of the word he needed to describe his situation. “. . . so horrible,”
“It is, you know.” I replied, wagging my finger at him. “It’s a lot of trouble just to get laid twice as much as the average person,”
Raul swung his legs and jumped off the counter. “It’s a lot more complicated than just getting laid, Damien.” He said, walking to the kitchen door, pocketing the tickets.
As his hand grabbed the handle of the kitchen door, I said: “So, what’s the point? If you know, the point isn’t to get laid?”
He bit his lower lip- a habit he picked up from his dear Mattie- and turned towards me. “Getting laid is just a convenient result, but it’s not the point. You see-” He clapped his hands together, pressed them against his lips and stared at me. “Haven’t you ever wanted something so bad, that you’d do whatever you had to do to get it?”
I shook my head.
“Then you wouldn’t understand what I’m feeling, or why I’m doing this,” And he left quickly.
See, I like my stage. I can take off this make-up, these black and white clothes and chuck them into the closet and only take them out twice a month. But Raul can’t. That’s why I don’t envy him. He has to perform endlessly and seamlessly. His stage isn’t just a stage.