Iris turned away, chewing on her thumbnail as she read over the lines.In our last conflict, four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one...
Iris couldn’t help but laugh softly. Beatrice was funny. Smart. Undoubtedly sexy. Iris could do this. At least enough to get through the reading without making a total fool of herself. In the end, she’d join Simon in the company, and they’d have a laugh about the odd director who forced her into reading for the lead.
“I think I’m ready,” Iris said, glancing up at Adri. Vanessa had come in while Iris studied, and the two were now staring at her with such interest, Iris actually did check her face for stray crumbs this time.
“Great,” Adri said. “You can head up to the stage.”
Iris did as she was told, lifting her long skirt so she didn’t trip up the short flight of stairs on stage left. Or was it stage right? She could never keep it straight.
“Whenever you’re comfortable,” Adri said, following her up.“Starting at line thirty.” She stood a few feet away from Iris and was all Iris could really see. The stage lights were bright, making everything in the theater seem dreamlike, a gauzy black and white.
Iris rolled her shoulders back. She cleared her throat. Then she very nearly cracked up at what she was doing. Nervous energy propelled her forward, so her first line came out on a bubble of laughter.
“I pray you, is Signior Mountanto returned from the wars or no?”
It seemed to work, though, curling a bit of mirth through the words.
“I know none of that name, lady,”Adri read as the messenger. Then, as Hero,“My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua.”
And so it went. Iris quickly warmed up to her character, this woman who was fed up with arrogant bullshit and at the same time clearly wanted to bang Benedick’s brains out. It would be fascinating to see this played out between two queer women.
The idea spurred Iris on even more. Soon, she was moving around on stage, flourishing her hands, scoffing when the line called for it. Though when it came time for Benedick to arrive, she quieted down. Their verbal sparring was fast, vitriolic, but she infused it with... well, with lust, if she was being honest. It just felt right, and she remembered hearing this whole play—at least when it came to Beatrice and Benedick—was one giant exercise in foreplay.
“You always end with a jade’s trick,”she said, teeth slightly gritted as she read Beatrice’s last line in scene 1.“I know you of old.”
Silence.
A very long, charged, terrifying beat of silence.
Iris was breathing a bit heavily, and she realized she’d jutted her hand toward Adri, one coral-painted finger pointing at her face while she read Beatrice’s lines.
Iris dropped her hand, cleared her throat. Waited.
Adri just stared, mouth slightly parted.
“So...” Iris said, “what now?”
“Wow,” Vanessa said, clapping. “I mean, Adri, right?”
Adri started to say something, but before she could say anything, the theater doors banged open.
“Sorry, that took an eternity,” a voice said. Iris looked out into the audience but could only see a shadowy form heading down the aisle. “Their lunch crowd is getting out of control.”
Iris frowned, the voice somehow familiar. She squinted to see, but the figure was still a blur in the lights.
“No worries,” Adri said, eyeing Iris. “Gave us some time to get to know your girl.”
“My what?” the other person said.
“Their what?” Iris said at the same time. “I’m not—”
But then, the person—a woman with a curly shag haircut and amber-brown eyes—arrived at the edge of the stage, stopping next to Vanessa and staring up at Iris with her mouth hanging open.
“Stefania?” Iris said.
“Iris,” Stefania said back, her voice breathy and shaky.
They stared at each other for a second. Iris’s head swam. She never expected to see Stefania again—never wanted to, if she was being honest. Something flickered in the back of Iris’s mind, puzzle pieces of this whole bat-shit experience coming together—the way Adri and Vanessa seemed to know who she was, her name, thisherthey kept talking about surprising.
