I stand in the wings, my body buzzing with adrenaline as I eagerly anticipate my cue. Getting the chance to watch Eric play my role for the first time had been amazing, and I was so proud of how far he had come. But my week off, which had been spent at home with my family, had created an unholy boredom that itched in my bones. I am beyond ready to get back to it, desperate to be back where I belong. On that stage.

I glance at Mark, grinning at him and shooting a double thumbs up as he gallops on to the stage. His grin is huge and cheeky, warming my heart as I see just how much he loves this. Hell, we all do.

I bounce on the balls of my feet, watching the scene in front of me like a hawk.

As soon as I hear my cue, I bound on to the stage, joining in with the chorus of the song as I step forwards. I come to Mark's side, smiling at him as we bounce off each other in the way that seems to come so naturally.

As I scan the audience, I very nearly trip over my words.

Dark blue eyes and vivid blue hair shine from the very centre of the first row. It's the only row we can really see from the brightly lit stage, but I think I'd recognise him even in the furthest row. His expression is scarily blank, a tiny scowl on his face as his body sits tense and rigid in his seat.

I do my best to ignore him, and the absurd breathlessness that's suddenly overtaken my lungs, but I struggle to shake off the knowledge that he's here.

The song comes to an end and I sidle into the wings, running my hands down my costume hastily.

"Everything okay, Grey?" Mark asks quickly, covering his mic.

I nod hastily, getting ready for my next scene.

I glance over my shoulder, cursing when I see Rosie crossing the stage.

I compose myself quickly, forcing an easy, confident smile on my lips.

This scene has never been hard for me. I've read the book, seen this movie and the stage production more times than I can count. Marius and Cosette falling in love is so beautiful, and recreating that moment with Rosie is easy. I don't feel anything, but it's easy to fake. But today, I'm seeing someone else. I'm seeing him, and now every glance is heavy, wanting and passionate.

My feet guide me on the journey they've walked a hundred times before, but this time it feels different.

When our scene is over, I press my hand against my chest, feeling my heart hammering in my chest. I close my eyes briefly, shaking my head.

Get it together, man.

By our next scene, I'm more composed. I can do this, I know I can. But as I step out, approaching the gates for our duet, I connect with his eyes once more. And then all I see is Blue.

Every word I sing sounds different, feels like more than I've ever given before.

As my hands reach out, holding Rosie's in mine, her eyes shine as her voice climbs, the sound of us harmonising perfectly. When the song comes to an end, I find myself breathless, my cheeks burning. I escape off stage, shaking my head.

Mark congratulates me, laughing as he slaps me on the back.

"Dude, you're killing it tonight! I could actually believe you're in love with her." He says and I roll my eyes playfully.

"Don't you have a number to do." I mutter, wiping my brow as he chuckles. We fall into the old, familiar favourite, each of us bouncing off each other as we banter in the set of our rebel hide-out, my grin never lessening as I revel in the lullaby of the ABC cafe.

The show continues smoothly, the guns and smoke, effects which so often go wrong, go off without a hitch. I fight by the sides of my comrades, and when the time comes, they die by my side as they do every night.

But when my solo comes up, I tug at my collar uncomfortably.

I'm never nervous for this. In fact, it's my favourite part of the show, but tonight, it's different. He's here, and this time I know it. I limp onto the stage slowly, glancing around the tables and chairs as I take my place.

As I sing of Marius' cataclysmic loss, the meaning of his words reach new levels of comprehension in my mind, connecting with my own grief in a way they never have before. My hand ghosts across my chest as my heart aches, the tears rolling down my face real.

I fight to control my voice, the sorrow in my bones battling to pull me down with every word, and when the song comes to an end, I feel exhausted.

But the roar of applause takes me back, pulls me back to my startling reality with a force that leaves me a little shaken.

Rosie appears, grabbing my hands for our reprise and my absence isn't feigned as I glance towards the first row.

Blue's expression is different now, pinched and tight, his arms folded tightly across his chest.

Rosie's fingers brush my jaw, bringing my eyes back to hers.

I sing my part, harmonising with her, and when the time comes for us to kiss, I feel almost sick. Regardless, I cup her cheek and guide her lips to mine, pressing them together in a way that I hope conveys passion.

It's an odd feeling, our lips moulding together. Merely flesh touching flesh, not eliciting a feeling in me other than a subtle, vague sort of revulsion.

I pull away slowly, looking between her eyes as she exhales shakily.

The show comes to an end very quickly after that, and I take a moment in the wings before the bows to settle myself. Rosie and Mark both look concerned, but I wave them off with an easy-going smile that I know I've perfected the art of.

They take to the stage to have their bows, and I follow immediately after Rosie.

I jog out, beaming as the audience deafens me with their applause. I scan the crowds as I bow twice, my smile stretching from ear to ear as I gaze across the invisible audience. My eyes can't help but steal towards Blue again. He's watching me, and only me, and when our eyes meet, he raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching upward in the ghost of a smile.

I watch as he raises his hands, clapping only for me.

I laugh under my breath, pressing my fingers to my lips as I press a kiss to them, extending it toward him.

He stops clapping then, his scowl falling back into place.

I grin cheekily, stepping back to allow Richard and Edward, who play Javert and Jean Val Jean to take their bows.

We take a final bow as a full cast, relishing in the applause one last time before the curtain falls. There's a collective sigh of relief from all of us as we grin and hug one another, each of us exhausted beyond belief.

I trail off to my dressing room, relieved to be out of my costume for the night.

I take my time, showering and dressing before leaving the theatre, hope running through my veins.

But the next evening, when I take to the stage I am startled to find dark blue eyes glaring back at me from the very same seat in the front row. I'm a little less pleased to see them this time around. He maintains his unnerving stare and unrelenting glare for the entire performance, much to my dismay. I stumble more than once during chorus performances, my heart sinking in my chest with every error.

I never stumble, I never fumble my words.

My heart races with irritation, but I suppress it.

But when I spot his unerring glare for the third night in a row, I decide I've had enough.

The following morning I charge into Starbucks like a bull. I wait in line patiently, my blood boiling hotter with every moment that I wait until, finally, we come face to face.

Blue's eyes lighten considerably, his lips pulling up, but I'm too mad to appreciate it.

"What the hell is your problem?" I hiss, jabbing a finger at him.

His expression drops like lightning, falling into the all too familiar scowl that I know.

"Excuse me?"

"You want to glare at me, call me a basic bitch and insult me here? Go ahead, I don't care. But there? At work? You have no right. That's my livelihood. I've worked too fucking hard to get to where I am for some guy who hates me to screw it up." I say, softly but acerbically, leaning against the counter.

Blue's eyes narrow, watching me as he leans closer.

"You think I hate you?" He asks darkly, his voice a controlled hush.

I scoff. Is that even a question?

"Yeah, and you've risen to new levels of dedication to convey it." I mutter.

He laughs bitterly, rolling his eyes.

"You have no fucking idea." He hisses, our faces just inches apart.

"Blue! Dude, what are you doing?" Rex whispers, tugging his brother back viciously.

"Sorting something out." He mutters, his eyes still fixed on mine.

"Then can you, I don't know, do it on your own time? You're holding up the line." Rex says, gesturing to the people behind me.

I sigh, the wind in my sails leaving me as quick as it had come and I visibly deflate.

"Sorry, Rex. It's my fault." I say, watching Blue exhale impatiently.

"No, it's not. I'm going on break." He says, tugging his apron off.

He throws a warning glance at Rex, daring him to argue before grabbing my wrist and leading me outside. He walks incredibly fast, tugging me almost viciously behind the Starbucks, but his grip on my wrist is soft.

He comes to a stop suddenly but doesn't turn around, instead running a hand through his hair. The silence between us eats up the space, leaving a chasm that feels a mile wide.

"Where have you been?" He asks eventually, his voice just a whisper.

"What?" I ask.

"You just disappeared. For four weeks. Where the fuck were you?" He asks, turning around suddenly as his temper flares.

"I...I've been at work. We've had rehearsals with the new cast members." I say, my gaze flicking between his eyes.

I feel my brows pinch together, examining his expression. Behind his scowl is a desperate vulnerability that has me reaching forwards. He doesn't pull away and I take this as encouragement as I wrap my hand around his bicep.

"I'm sorry, if I made you worry." I say quietly.

He scoffs, but doesn't move away. In fact, if anything, I think he leans into my touch. No, I'm imagining it...but as I rub my thumb against his skin, he definitely seems to soften.

"I wasn't worried." He says finally, folding his arms across his chest.

I let my hand drop to my side, feeling like a complete idiot.

"Oh. Of course."

His jaw clenches, tightening as he mulls something over.

"That girl. The blonde one, what's going on there?" He asks, his voice so desperate to sound disinterested.

I feel my lips curl upward, which immediately draws a scowl out of him.

"Rosie? I told you, she's a colleague." I say softly.

He snorts to himself, his arms tightening across his chest as he glances at his feet.

"You kiss all your colleagues like that?" He asks and I sigh in exasperation.

"What...what exactly is going on here? One minute I'm convinced you hate me, the next I feel like your boyfriend. I don't...ever understand you." I say, shaking my head.

This, apparently, is the wrong thing to say.

"Then don't bother! I never asked you to understand me." He growls, bumping against my shoulder as he makes to leave.

I grab his shirt and tug him back in an uncharacteristically vicious movement. But what can I say? The boy drives me insane.

I push him against the wall, his beautiful blue eyes wide as he stares down at me. He opens his mouth to speak but I beat him to it.

"Shut up."

He frowns, opening his mouth again.

"No. I mean it. Shut. Up." I say, poking him hard in the chest.

He watches me cautiously, but keeps his delectable lips shut.

"I identify as demisexual. Do you know what that is?" I ask.

He shakes his head slowly.

I sigh, my eyes flickering over his gorgeous features. Why does it have to be him?

"It means I don't experience attraction the same way as everyone else. In order to feel romantically attracted to someone, I need a meaningful connection, an emotional bond. It means, most of the time, when it comes to sex and romance, men or women, I'm not interested. Until I am."

I watch his eyebrows twitch, a baby frown clouding his features.

I sigh, deflating as I purse my lips together hopelessly.

"I don't date, because people don't understand and honestly, it's easier being single. But it's also lonelier." I say, my voice almost a whisper as I look away. It's almost embarrassing to be admitting it, to Blue, my barista, of all people. But he's so much more than that, he has been for some time now.

"So, imagine my horror when I start to look forward to my daily dose of abuse in the morning. The butterflies in my stomach begin to feel like a cosmic joke as all of my daydreams suddenly revolve around the colour blue."

Blue stares at me like I've gone bananas, and maybe I have.

"I mean honestly, why do you think I keep coming back?! I must be a masochist, there's no logical explanation, but here I am!" I say, throwing up my hands in complete defeat.

And then it starts to dawn on me.

How I have essentially told my barista that I'm in love with him in the grimey alleyway behind Starbucks.

I purse my lips together, backing up all of a sudden.

Blue's eyes watch me wildly and my heart doesn't seem to want to calm down as my cheeks flare red. Time to go.

Before I can do, or say, anything stupider, I turn around and exit stage left with the speed of a man who is actually pursued by a bear. I don't stop running until I find myself pressed against the back of my front door.

"Grey?"

I jump, clutching my chest when I spot Amyas in the kitchen. I'd completely forgotten that he was here, visiting Everett and Ledger for the weekend. I rake a hand through my hair carelessly, a breathless, fake smile on my lips.

"Hey!" I say, cringing internally at the pitch of my voice.

He raises an eyebrow, digging his teaspoon back into my jar of peanut butter. I watch the action with a vague grimace. I regret giving him a key sometimes.

"Want to talk about it?" He asks.

I sigh heavily, my shoulders sagging as I nod.

"Yeah, it's about time."

_

A/N

IT'S ABOUT TIME