I move through the scene with cold precision. Hedda realizing Løvborg is dead. Hedda facing Judge Brack's threats. Hedda understanding that every choice has been taken from her except one.
"People don't do such things," I say to Brack, Ibsen's most famous line delivered with perfect, devastating calm.
Then I walk offstage and the audience holds its breath.
The pistol shot cracks through the theater. Tesman and Thea gasp. Brack delivers his final line: "Good God! People don't do such things!"
The lights hold on the drawing room—horror, shock, the aftermath of Hedda's final refusal to be controlled.
Then blackout.
Three seconds of silence.
When the lights come back up for curtain call, the applause is immediate and thunderous. The cast takes their bows. Then it's my turn, and I step forward as Hedda one last time.
Standing ovation. Complete. The kind that makes your eyes sting.
I take my bows with the cast. The applause is everything I dreamed it would be—genuine, enthusiastic, the kind that means you moved people.
When the curtain finally falls, I'm shaking with adrenaline.
"Brilliant," Professor De Scarzis says, finding me in the wings. "That was absolutely brilliant. You embodied Hedda completely."
"Thank you," I manage.
"The scouts want to speak with you," she continues. "Vivian Strasberg specifically asked. They're at the reception in the lobby."
The reception. Of course. The mandatory after-party where donors schmooze and scouts hunt for talent and Eleanor Ashworth will be holding court.
Perfect.
I change out of costume but keep my stage makeup—bold and dramatic, exactly how I need to look for what comes next. The pack finds me backstage, and I feel their presence through the bonds before I see them.
"You were incredible," Dorian says, and there's genuine awe in his voice.
"Devastating," Oakley adds.
"Technically flawless with perfect emotional authenticity," Corvus observes. "The scouts noticed."
"Good," I say. "Because I'm about to give them something else to notice."
"What do you mean?" Dorian asks.
I smile. "You'll see. Just follow my lead."
Thelobbyreceptionispacked. Champagne flows. Faculty mingles with donors. Students network desperately. And there, near the center of it all, Vivian Strasberg and Diana Marchand stand talking to Professor De Scarzis.
Eleanor Ashworth is positioned strategically between me and the scouts, like a guard dog protecting territory.
I walk straight toward Vivian anyway.
"Ms. Levine," Vivian says, seeing me approach. Her eyes light up with genuine interest. "That was extraordinary work. The way you inhabited Hedda—that wasn't acting. That was possession."
"Thank you," I say. "It's a role I understand deeply."
"A woman trapped by social expectations who refuses to submit," Diana adds. "Very on-brand for you, I'd imagine."
Before I can respond, Eleanor Ashworth materializes beside us.
