"Do you want?"
"Maybe." I set the script aside. "Vivian wants me to audition for a Marcus Bellamy workshop production in May. Experimental piece about Omega resistance movements. It's not traditional theater—more like performance art meets political protest."
"That sounds very on-brand for you," Corvus observes from his desk setup in the corner. He's still doing consulting work, but now for three clients instead of one. Turns out being ruthlessly analytical is a marketable skill when you're not using it to destroy people's lives.
"I'll think about it," I say. "How was work?"
"Profitable," Corvus says. "My largest client wants to extend my contract for another year. Significant raise."
"That's amazing," Oakley calls from the bedroom, where he's reviewing a script. He's six weeks into a run at an experimental theater in Brooklyn and loving every exhausting moment. He's waiting tables during the day, auditioning constantly, slowly building a resume. It's a brutal schedule but he's thriving.
We're all thriving, actually. Against every odd, every prediction, every warning from Eleanor Ashworth about poverty and failure.
Speaking of Eleanor—
My phone buzzes with an email notification. I almost ignore it, but the subject line catches my attention.
Subject: Congratulations - E. Ashworth
I open it, curious.
Vespera,
I saw the Drama Desk nomination announcement this morning. Outstanding Actress in a Play at twenty years old. I knew you were talented the first time I saw you perform, even though I tried to pretend I didn't.
I've been attending your shows quietly—back row, plain clothes, trying not to intrude. Watching you command that stage reminds me why I fell in love with theater before I let the Ashworth name convince me to give it up.
You're extraordinary. And you're good for my son in ways I couldn't have predicted. He's happier now, working in theater and living his own life, than he ever was following my plans.
I'm proud of both of you. All four of you, really. You built something real without my help, and you're succeeding on your own terms.
I hope you'll consider having dinner with me sometime. Not as adversaries. As family.
Eleanor
I read it twice. Six months ago, this would have felt like manipulation. Now it just feels like a mother trying to be part of her son's life without controlling it.
"Everything okay?" Dorian asks, seeing my expression.
I'm sitting in our actual living room reading through the first script when Dorian gets home from the theater. He's been promoted to stage manager at Brooklyn Community Theater,which comes with a modest pay increase and the kind of job satisfaction that used to confuse him.
"Still reading?" he asks, dropping his bag and immediately pulling me into his arms. Eight months and I still feel the bond flare when he touches me, that fated mate connection that tried to control me and now just... exists. Part of our relationship but not all of it.
"Still reading," I confirm. "This one's good. Really good. Lesbian Omega love story set against Alpha-supremacist politics. The lead is complex and angry and doesn't apologize for either."
"Sounds perfect for you," he says, kissing my neck where his claiming mark sits. It's faded now, silvered like old scars, but still visible. "When's it start?"
"Rehearsals in July. Three-month run." I lean back against him. "Which means I'll have April through June to work on something else if I want."
"Do you want?"
"Maybe." I set the script aside. "Vivian wants me to audition for a Marcus Bellamy workshop production in May. Experimental piece about Omega resistance movements. It's not traditional theater—more like performance art meets political protest."
"That sounds very on-brand for you," Corvus observes from his desk setup in the corner. He's still doing consulting work, but now for three clients instead of one. Turns out being ruthlessly analytical is a marketable skill when you're not using it to destroy people's lives.
"I'll think about it," I say. "How was work?"
"Profitable," Corvus says. "My largest client wants to extend my contract for another year. Significant raise."
