I knew that build. I knew that walk.
Brody. He’d come, somehow. He was here.
Brody sank into the seat beside his brother, promptly picked a placard off the floor and held it on his knee.
Hero’s biggest fan
The bold lettering had an arrow pointing upwards to Brody.
“Selena, you’re up in two minutes,” someone from the stage crew whispered to me.
“Ok, I’m coming.”
I straightened up and let the curtain fall.
Everyone was here. They’d shown up for me. I needed to show up for them.
Maybe everyone really did get a second chance, after all. I put my shoulders back, let my mind slip into the role of Hero, and raised my chin.
It was time.
The applause was still ringing in my ears when I made it into the sanctuary of my green room. My cheeks hurt from smiling, andmy eyes were still wet from a particularly emotional speech near the end of the play.
I leaned against the door and let out a deep breath.
“I thought you were never going to get here. Your adoring fans must have waylaid you,” Brody’s deep voice spoke from behind the dressing curtain at the side of the room.
I flew across the room and pushed it back.
He was lounging in the big leather armchair in the corner next to the clothes rail.
I fell into his arms, and they came up to embrace me tightly.
“You’re here! You’re really here.”
“I’m really here, and you were really amazing. I’m not joking, just stunning.”
“I can’t believe you made it,” I breathed in the smell of him. I’d missed him for nearly a week since he’d been gone.
“I can’t believe you thought for a second that I would miss it.”
“I listened to your voicemail just before going on. I thought you’d just left it.”
“I left it yesterday. I made sure to move things around so I could get here in time. I have to warn you, I’m fucking knackered, I barely know what time it is, and I haven’t slept in forty-eight hours. But most importantly,” he cupped my face. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Really?” I asked, preening under his admiring look.
He nodded. “You have something special. A rare talent. You have to pursue this if you enjoy it.”
“I do… but what about the family reputation?” I reminded him.
“I told you, thespians get a pass. It’s a lofty, artistic profession, and it suits you.”
“You suit me,” I murmured.
“Fucking right, I do. Nothing’s felt right this week without being near you.”
“Ditto,” I murmured, and pushed myself into his arms even further.
