My mouth falls open. William has surprised me a lot this evening, first with his discomfort in the north wing, then with how candidly he’s been speaking to me ever since we stepped onto the balcony. But I never could have anticipated this. “You starred inThe Governess and the Rake? The stage play ofmybook?”
He rubs his brow. “My tale doesn’t have a happy ending, Weenie.”
Oh, right. He’s only telling me this to explain the source of his panic after fleeing the voyeurism room. It takes no small effort to bury my vanity and avoid asking him questions about my play. Was it lovely? Did the audience swoon? What were the costumes like? Instead, I give him an encouraging nod.
“As you can probably guess,” he says, “the lead role included not just a kiss but a sex scene. Multiple, actually. Not true sex in the stage adaptation, of course, but a rather convincing imitation of it. I knew it would be a challenge for me, but Ineeded that role. I needed a boost to my career and the income that could make a significant dent in our debt. While I may have been a prodigy at university, out in the real world, I was just a dandelion in a vast garden of curated roses. So I was desperate to get the part. And I did. My audition was exquisite, all because it didn’t include a kiss. Yet I knew I couldn’t avoid the love scenes for long. I came to Grayson for advice, and he suggested I participate in the north wing. He thought it would help me get comfortable performing intimate acts before an audience.
“I chose Meredith as my partner. We were old friends from university. I didn’t have feelings for her, but I was, at the very least, attracted to her.”
A prickle of envy jabs me in the chest. Of course he was attracted to her. I saw her myself before he dragged me away. She was tall with pouty pink lips, gorgeous curves, and straight black hair.
William shifts to lean his backside against the railing, arms folded over his chest, eyes distant. “I was so nervous. More than any audition. Any performance. But Meredith did her best to distract me. I managed to initiate a kiss, though I can’t say it was a good one. Not even my attraction to her could make up for my terror at having an audience. We progressed to touching, but I hardly felt like I was inside my body. I must have blundered my way through enough to convince Meredith I was ready for more, for she then proceeded to remove my shirt, then her chemise. As soon as her top was around her waist, I had reached my limit. My head was spinning. I hated the way I felt. Hated what I was doing. And that is when I vomited all over her.”
My mouth falls open. “You…vomited. Onher.”
“All over those beautiful breasts of hers.”
I can’t stifle the snort of laughter fast enough. “I’m so sorry.”
He gives me a small smile. “Apparently, I am in no way cut out for public lovemaking.”
Another burst of laughter leaves my lips, but I cover my mouth until I can recover. With my words half trembling with mirth, I ask, “So, then what? You relinquished your role and quit the show?”
“Oh, Ed, my sordid tale has only just begun.”
I find myself leaning closer. “Do tell.”
“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”
“A little.”
I expect him to clam up and realize how much he’s divulged, but he still wears that half smile. “Then let me conclude with the worst part yet. No, I did not take the rational route and quit the show. Instead, I powered through every kiss scene as best I could. The director was sorely disappointed in my poor performance, but I promised I would work on it. Then it was time to rehearse the first love scene. And it wasn’t just any rehearsal. Our director invited some of his colleagues to watch, a producer, a casting director, and a talent agent. Big names in the industry, ones you absolutely want to make a great impression on. Can you guess what kind of impression I made?”
My eyes go wide. “Please tell me you didn’t…”
“I, William Haywood, threw up all over the beloved actress Greta Garter.”
“Greta Garter? You were cast oppositeGreta Garter?” Even I know of the Faerwyvae-born human actress. Her career is new, but her rise to fame has been astounding. So much so that she’s even left the isle to perform in other countries. The month before I left Bretton, I attended the theater with my family and was delighted by her performance in the lead role. She’s as beautiful as she is talented.
“Not once, Weenie, but twice.”
“Twice?” I’m so mortified and amused that I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
He nods. “The first time, I tried to play it off like I was unwell. The second time, the director realized I wasn’t cut out for the role. He fired me, but not before lecturing me about my failure to disclose myshortcoming, as he called it, when I was cast. He had every right to be angry. I’d wasted his time and created a production delay while my role was recast. And even though what happened was never made public, word spread behind the scenes. I was never cast in anything but a supporting role again.”
My shoulders fall. “You never performed in my play after all.”
“Oh, I performed,” he says. “The director was kind enough to cast me as Gardener Number Three.”
“I didn’t even write a gardener character in the book.”
“I might as well have been part of the set.”
I’m starting to understand why he’s so determined to make something of his poetry career. His first passion already failed. At least he has a second one. I don’t know what I would do if I ruined my chance at being a writer.
He heaves a sigh and I study his profile, the way the moonlight paints the planes of his face. It’s enough to make me forget just how at odds we are with each other and see him as the beautiful male I first took him for. My initial impression of him changed so fast, from admiration to annoyance in the blink of an eye. While my opinion of him hasn’t completely improved, it has evolved after our conversation. He may be every inch the arrogant asshole he’s proven himself to be, but he’s also this vulnerable, wounded artist that stands before me now. One who followed me up to the north wing because he feared I’d be as uncomfortable here as he is.
Something tender cracks inside my chest.
