Epilogue
Mid December arrived fast. The week before Christmas was a bustle of activity more to do with shifting Tommy to outpatient care than the actual holidays. He’d be living at Bas’s in the tiny apartment above the garage. Ru had claimed the space previously but almost never stayed there. Tommy had yet to return to his loft, instead claiming Bas’s unused basement as a makeshift music room. They were even in the process of putting in a small recording studio.
“I have pop stars coming out my ears,” Bas had cried dramatically when the construction crew had arrived a week earlier to begin putting up soundproof walls. “Days filled with random song breaks are not every gay boy’s dream. I have to study.”
Ru patted him on the shoulder and headed off to the Corbin’s house. Tommy had taken to moving things around in the upstairs apartment. He was not a fan of the clutter, and all of Ru’s many guitars made too much clutter. But the construction wouldn’t be finished until after Christmas. The entire basement to be transformed into a recording and practice space.
“You ready to go?” Paige asked Tommy as she stood in the doorway, the stairs leading down behind her. “Katie is waiting in the car.”
He couldn’t help the edge of panic that brought vibration to his spine. Stress intolerance. His doctors said it could take years to fully subside. But he didn’t want to wait years to live his life. “I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“It’s only an audition. You don’t even have to take the part if they offer it,” she pointed out. “They don’t start rehearsing until late January. You have time.” She entered the space and closed the cold out behind her before cupping his face. “You’ve got this. Let’s go.”
He accepted her kiss and let her guide him out to the car. Tommy got in, sliding in beside Katie, and Paige next to him. They had a limo and a driver today. Security would meet them. Ru was off doing some press thing that they all hoped would keep everyone distracted, but there would be paparazzi somewhere. Once fame struck, the invasion of privacy rarely released its claws.
They made the drive in silence; Tommy gripping the script he’d been working through like it was a shield. He’d been over the script and all the music with Ru a dozen times. Fine tuning things. He was not an opera singer, and didn’t have the drive for something as intense asPhantom of the Opera, but this first one, a stage adaptation forBohemian Rhapsody, might be a bit out of his league. Minnesota stage life was far from New York Broadway, but still one of the top in the nation, a place to make a mark.
“You’re going to be amazing,” Paige assured him.
He finally looked at her, seeing beyond his panic. “You wore makeup today.” Noticeable makeup, not the natural touch she normally used.
“Well yeah, there will be famous people there.”
“Um, I’m famous,” Tommy reminded her.
She snorted and patted his arm like he was being ridiculous.
“I’m about to pretend to be Freddie Mercury,” Tommy said.
“Turn your gay on,” Paige snarked. “Think of Bas. Swish the hips.”
Tommy laughed. “Stop.”
Katie laughed too. “She’s not wrong. Think overacting. Drama diva comes naturally to Bas, the rest of us have to work for it.”
“This is nuts. I’m not ready for this.”
“You are,” Katie said firmly.
The car slid up to the back entrance of a theater. Tommy had attended a handful of musicals here when he’d been young. His mother’s love of theater transferring to him. He’d gotten her season tickets for Christmas. Whatever the acting guild offered, she could attend. He hoped one of those shows he’d be starring in.
“I can be Freddie Mercury,” Tommy muttered. Katie was out first. Security at her side sliding into place before the door on Paige’s side opened and she got out, followed by Tommy. He felt the flash. A flicker of light, that made his gut clench. Stupid paparazzi.
He was rushed inside, but couldn’t help how his legs shook, hands sweating. Paige didn’t let go either way. He blindly followed Katie, his heart racing a bit. Episodic anxiety. He hoped he didn’t have an attack in the middle of his audition.
“Breathe,” Paige whispered. “You got this.”
They stepped into a big welcoming area. A handful of others waited with similar entourages. Not a normal audition. Big names. First time this adaption was going to be performed, and everyone wanted in. He’d been studying the work of other performers, trying to gauge if he had a chance at all. A fallen pop star turned stage pro? He had classes he’d be starting in the spring. Music business, composition, and opera training. He had the range. He needed the willpower to make it through when his brain shouted he was a fuck up.
A table off to the side sat filled with unopened water bottles and carbs. Paige eyed the sweets. Tommy swung her hand. “Feel free,” he told her. He wasn’t going to touch anything. He’d upchuck it anyway if he tried.
She shook her head. Katie took Tommy’s coat. “You’ll be acting first,” Katie told Tommy, pushing his hair out of his face. “You can keep the script. They will give you the page number. You’ll be interacting with another character. Then back here and called for the vocal part. Security will be with you anytime you’re not on stage.”
He’d have rather done it all at once, but nodded, chewing on his lip. If he got through the first part without a heart attack, he’d get through the second, right?
“Mr. Foster,” a stagehand, near the door, called. Katie gave him a little hug and Paige squeezed his hand.
“You’ve got this. Remember, you’re not a Disney Princess today, you’re a Queen.” Paige pointed to the door that led out to the audience. It had a long list of rules in giant font posted. “We’ll be right there.”
