“How about I manage my play and you manage yours?” Leo said.
“We would, but someone double-booked our rehearsal time.”
“Right.” Maria drained her vermouth in one gulp. “That settles that. Leo? Take your zoo and go. I’ll see you tomorrow—God help me.”
“It’s going to take twenty minutes to pull down.” João nervously got to his feet, cups and saucers still rattling on their tray.
“Twenty minutes?” asked Alex. “Where’d you set this? The fucking Alhambra?”
Vicente shook his head. “There’s no point, man. Our run time’s an hour.”
“That’s not my problem,” Leo said, shooting his cast the look of a man on the verge of a burst blood vessel. “Well? What are you waiting for? Twenty minutes, let’s go.”
Leo ushered the denizens of Wonderland back inside the theatre, except for the White Rabbit, who removed his mask and ears to reveal a contrite expression on a face Alex, in truth, now wanted to see in a very different setting.
“I’m really sorry about that,” the rabbit said, holding his mask by the incisors. He reached into the pockets of his clownishpantaloons. After pulling out a prop pocket watch, a wad of used gum, and a half-eaten cookie, he grinned with triumph, retrieving a wrinkled flyer. “Here. When you’re done with rehearsal, come see the movie I’m in. I’ll put you on the list.”
“Movie?” Joanna asked, peering over Alex’s shoulder.
“Pepi, Luci, Bom and Other Girls from the Heap?” Alex said. “Which one are you playing?”
“Hah, you’re funny. I show my cock in it.”
“That’s pertinent information,” said Alex, his nascent attraction growing. “Thanks.”
“Maybe I’ll see you there? Sorry again for the mix-up.” The White Rabbit grinned, catching his rabbit ears in the doorway as he rejoined his cast.
“What do you want to do?” Vicente asked.
Alex spied the bottle Maria had left on the counter. “Drink?”
Without a better idea, the three of them left the theatre with a half-finished bottle of vermouth and a creased invitation to see the White Rabbit’s cock.
***
‘List’ was a generous term for the loosely enforced sheet of names held at the Alphaville cinema’s entrance. The squat, bearded man running the door barely glanced at it when they arrived, preferring instead to flirt with a robust-looking fellow whose jawline was so sharp, Alex half expected it to slice a chunk off the doorman’s Brigitte Bardot wig should the two ever have the misfortune to collide.
“I don’t see anyone checking tickets,” said Vicente, stepping aside to let two women chase one another through the lobby. One pelted the other with wrapped candies before catching up to her and taking her in a big, sloppy kiss.
“Friends and family night?” Joanna made a face as the chaser popped an unwrapped bonbon into her mouth. She forced a smile, spat the questionable candy into her hand and tossed it in the trash.
“I guess so?” Alex looked back at Bardot, who, having lost his object of flirtation, was now in decidedly grumpier conversation with a different man, tanned, slender and modest of stature, wearing a plaid shirt.
“I’m getting popcorn,” Vicente said at last. “Do you want anything?”
“Do you smell popcorn?” asked Joanna. “The Alphaville doesn’t serve it.”
“What?” Vicente poked his head through the doors to the cinema, wincing at the cacophony of drums, cymbals, and other noises that rose from the rowdy crowd inside. “You’re joking.”
Alex watched as Bardot got more and more frustrated with Plaid Shirt, who, if Alex could read body language, insisted he was on the list Bardot had been happy to ignore when he’d been making eyes at Jawline, trying to sow the seeds for a good dicking. Alex was about to turn away when Plaid Shirt turned and caught his eye, the edge of his mouth curling with a shy smile. Without thinking, Alex doubled back to the ornate doors. “He’s with us.”
“Huh?” Bardot grunted, moustache twitching as he looked at the list. “I thought you were three.”
“Must be a mistake,” said Alex. “The guy who put us on the list isn’t good with these things.”
This part was true at least. Bardot rolled her eyes, pushed several blonde tresses behind his ear with a plump, hairy hand, and admitted Plaid Shirt.
“Thanks.” Plaid Shirt squeezed Alex’s arm, then vanished into the cinema.
