“I have no idea what they’re talking about,” the manager said.
Bart shrugged his wide shoulders. “Oh well, it’ll change when I get there.” He flipped back the heavy curtain, stepped into the light, then waited for the usual applause.
But there was none. The light made it difficult to see the audience clearly, but over the years—too many, some said—he’ddeveloped the ability to see them. The audience was almost in a trance, their eyes wide, mouths open. In shock. Bart frowned.This is why plots shouldn’t be changed, he thought.Changes take away from the main attraction.By that, he meanthim.Hewas the star and those girls better not forget it!
The princess—who was indeed a knockout—screeched, “I was to marryNessa! He is a whining wimp of a—”
The maid said, “You think you’re the only one to have a mate forced upon her? My father has chosen a man for me. He is forty-two years old, but his finances are stable and he has a nice house, so that makes him a fine match.”
The princess set her jaw. “You sneered at me for my whole life. You ridiculed me.”
The maid snapped back. “And you never missed an opportunity to let us know you thought we were stupid! You took your anger at Olina out onus.Wedidn’t lock you up!”
Thishas tostop!Bart thought, so he stepped closer to the women. He expected them to halt. To draw in their breaths and go into a state of awe. On an island with many beautiful people, Bart stood above them all.
When the women turned to look at him, he gave his most endearing smile. Dazzling but with a hint of humility.
The princess said, “Not as good as Mekos.”
The maid snorted. “Nor Tanek or even Roal. Certainly not Tam.”
The women looked at each other. “At last we agree on something,” the princess said.
When the women immediately went back to their argument about who’d had the worst life, Bart was quite agitated. He walked to the side of the stage and artfully posed himself against the fireplace. He knew from experience that it was a stance guaranteed to get the attention of the women. He very much liked their little squeals of lust. He even liked the scowls of the men. Bart adjusted his shirt to show off the inflated pecs he’d worked so hard to get. It was all perfect—except that the two womenon stage didn’t look at him. This was extremely annoying as the plot of the play was that they werebothsupposed to want him. Covet him. Fight each other to the death to get him.
The beautiful princess yelled, “You have no idea what I went through. I had private things—dangerousthings—going on in my life.”
The girl playing the maid gave her a look of contempt. It was so good that Bart thought he should practice re-creating it in front of a mirror. The girl’s disdain was so realistic that she didn’t even raise her voice.Good acting, Bart thought.
The maid said, “Do you mean your books or your training with Hale?”
Who wrote this script?Bart wondered. He’d never heard anything like it.
The princess looked so angry that steam seemed to come out of her ears. “Did Olina pay you to spy on me?”
The maid’s anger seemed to reach a peak—and from her expression, it was as though something inside her broke. “You ungrateful bitch! My father distracted the guards whileIhid your illegal books under my clothes. We risked ourlivesto help you.”
The princess looked so shocked that Bart almost believed their dialogue was real.Where did these girls train? Did someone onEmpyreaadjust their chips so they could do this? If so, where do I get it done to me?
He looked into the darkness at the audience. He’d never seen them so still. Usually, they were fussing over the mass of food they had with them, or telling their kids to shut up. When he was on, the women were lusting over him while the men were frowning. He loved that part! But now, all eyes were staring at the girls. The whole audience was transfixed! They weren’t moving, not eating. They didn’t even seem to be breathing.
This annoyed Bart so much that he looked around. What could he do to get the attention onto himself—where it should be? When he glanced to the side, he saw the little Never puppet.Who put that thing there?he wondered. It wasn’t needed for thisplay. Maybe he’d get some praise if he returned it to where it belonged.After this fiasco, Ineedpraise. He reached for the puppet. To his shock, the thing moved!
By all that was holy, had he found arealNever? Did they actually exist? When his hand started to close about the thing, it made a leap straight up into the air. Bart forgot about how those nothing-nobody girls were stealing all the attention, and made a grab for the creepy little thing. He caught something—he was, after all, a great athlete—but he missed its body. Instead, Bart ended up holding a little carved stick. He stared at it.What is this?he wondered.
He was so absorbed in whatever was in his hand that he didn’t realize that the girls had abruptly stopped shouting. He looked at them. They were staring at him.At last, he thought. The stage thieves were finally givinghimthe attention he deserved.
But then, they yelled. Screeched really. In perfectly timed unison, they shouted, “YOU HURT IAN!”
“Huh?” was the only word Bart had time to get out of his mouth before he was attacked—and that’s the only way to describe what they did.
The princess grabbed a steel poker from beside the fireplace.
That isn’t a prop!he was about to warn, but he wasn’t given the courtesy of time to explain. The princess whipped that long poker through the air like she knew how to handle it—and it went very near Bart’s chest. He was about to speak out in protest but then he felt something. On his chest, across his perfectly trimmed manly hair, over his perfect chest muscles, was a split line. She had cut his new shirt! Then, with horror, he thought,Shehas cutme!Blood was seeping out.
Bart felt dizzy.
In the next second, the maid stepped close. Bart’s only thought was that someone was going to take care of him. But to his shock, the maid put her hands on his chest and pushed him. So what? A push from a girl wasn’t anything to concern him.
