Chapter 24: Tech Week and Previews
AN: There's quite a time jump here, I realize, and I might go back and put in some more stuff before I publish, but for now I want to get on with the story, so forgive the huge leap forward, okay? It is now late September, but nothing of note has happened, they've just been rehearsing. This might change for the published book.
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"This isn't that bad, actually." Cameron pulled his shirt over his head as he spoke. "I did some musicals when I was in school, and tech week for those was brutal. I think once I didn't sleep for, like three days." He looked at Penny. "I'm guessing you never did any musical theatre?"
Penny looked back at him. "No, I didn't, and what are you trying to say?"
Cam shrugged as he looked in his drawer for a pair of socks. "Nothing in particular, you just don't seem particularly like a musical theatre, bust out into song type of actress, that's all." He grinned at her.
"I'm not very musical, if that's what you're insinuating," Penny answered as she brushed her hair. "I'm the first to admit it. At least I know, though, and will never embarrass you at karaoke, right?"
"True," Cam said as he kissed Penny on the cheek. "Thank you for that, love." He patted her on the rear end. "Come on then, we've got to get a wiggle on or we'll be late."
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Penny said, dashing out of the bathroom and nearly tripping over the cat, who was in her favorite place, just inside the door where the tiles of the floor remained cool all day long.
They just made the bus after grabbing muffins out of the fridge, knowing there would be coffee at the theatre.
"It's just that, after tech week, we go straight into previews, and then it's opening night, you know?" Penny complained, taking a bite of her muffin as she sat next to Cam on the lurching bus.
"I do know," Cam responded, taking neat bites of his own muffin. "That's pretty much the way it's always done, so what's the problem? The play's going great, I don't think we're even going to have to revise very much before we freeze the play for opening." Cam's enthusiasm was contagious, and Penny couldn't help but smile at him.
"Where did the time go, though?" She asked. "I mean, summer's over already."
"Yeah, that is too bad," Cameron agreed, placing a hand on Penny's knee. "I feel bad that the trip to the seashore that I promised you never happened." Cam had told Penny that they should rent a house at the beach and have clam bakes and go looking for seashells, have a real New England experience, but with their schedules, it had never materialized.
"Oh, Cam, I don't mind about that," Penny said, leaning her head on his shoulder. "But something feels--off, somehow, about life in general these days." She lifted her head to look at him, her face very close to his. "Don't you feel it?"
Cam looked at her in concern. "Are you unhappy, love? Something I've done? Or not done?"
They rose as the bus approached Seventh Avenue.
"Cam, no!" Penny assured him. "I love you, and everything about you. But I feel like we're rushing towards something without realizing it, like we're on a boat and the sea is calm, but we're heading into a storm or something." She looked again at Cameron as they stepped off the bus to see if he was understanding her, and saw only concern on his face. "At first I thought it was just the play, but like you say, the play's going great, so I don't think that's what it is. I can't figure it out, but it's kind of freaking me out." And in spite of the heat of the September day, Penny shivered on the street corner.
Cam put an arm around Penny's shoulder, trying to reassure her. He'd never told her about seeing the cigarette smoking Frederick outside their apartment on the Fourth. He'd been keeping a careful eye out, but hadn't seen him since, so he saw no reason to alarm his girlfriend, who had finally begun to look carefree and relaxed.
Cam looked over at Penny as she walked, matching him stride for stride, and shook his head.
Penny caught his motion and looked questioningly at him.
"What?" she asked with a smile.
"I just find it amazing that I wasn't bowled over by your beauty on the day we met," he answered, slipping his hand into hers.
"What? Where'd that come from?" Penny queried with a smile. "I'm not even wearing my good bra today," she added with a laugh.
"All your bras are good bras, you have beautiful tits," Cam answered, leaning in to hug her as they walked up Broadway.
"Shh, Cam, please, say it a little louder, why don't you?" Penny hissed, scandalized. "I don't think that tourist family over there heard you."
"Really? Which one?" Cam turned around. "Them? Okay. I said, 'My girlfriend has the most beauti-'"
"Cameron!"
They continued to head north together, laughing and holding hands. "I'm serious, though, You have the loveliest skin, and your hair and eyes, they're just--" Cameron stopped to try to think of the right words.
"I think I just grew on you," Penny suggested. "You know, like a fungus."
"Why do you do that?" Cameron gave her hand a shake. "Please don't do that, please don't belittle yourself."
"Okay, okay," Penny relented, squeezing his hand. "I'm getting better, though, don't you think? And I hardly ever wear black and white anymore, have you noticed?" She released his hand and did a little twirl in her pretty pink skirt.
"Yes, and your legs are gorgeous," Cam noted.
They entered the theatre, where they could immediately tell that something was going on. There was a tension in the air that was palpable.
"What's going on? What's wrong?" Penny asked Timothy, who was passing by.
"With what? With us? Nothing," Timothy answered. "But Frederick Berenson's play got shut down last night after just two nights of previews, and he went batshit crazy, attacked the producer or something, and disappeared. Everyone's talking about it."
What?
Penny and Cam went looking for Cynthia, knowing she could tell them the whole story and not some weird version that had been put through the gossip mill.
They found her backstage, sitting at a desk, talking on her phone. They waited until she was finished and looked at her expectantly. She knew what they were asking without them having to say a word.
"I guess you've already heard," she said sepulchrally, taking a deep breath. "That was Carey I was talking to just now, about possibly getting security for the theatre until that asshole's caught."
"What, here?" Penny asked. "Why?"
"Do you know what happened last night?" Cynthia asked, swinging her ponytail impatiently as she crossed her legs.
Penny and Cam shook their heads.
"Well, I guess his play, The Secret Brothers?" Cam and Penny nodded. "All that stuff we've been hearing about it was true. I was a real shit show. The producers and director were playing it really close to the vest, but they couldn't hide it once they went to previews, you know? And the first night could've been a fluke, but last night was just as bad."
Penny made a face of commiseration. "Couldn't they fix it in rewrites? I mean, that's what previews are for."
Cynthia shrugged. "I don't know. I heard they had a lot of trouble with Frederick from the beginning, that it was one issue after another, and that previews was just the last straw. It's their prerogative."
"But I've never heard of a show just being shut down cold during previews," Penny went on, aghast.
"So what happened after they pulled the plug?" Cameron prompted.
"Right. So after curtain, they told the cast that show was closing, and I guess Frederick kind of lost his cool." Cynthia shook her head. "He let loose some kind of tirade about how theatre was dying because no one cared and hacks were being hired, you know, the same old song and dance, and then he lunged at the director and said something about how he was supposed to have the part in this play, your part, Cam, and that he blamed him, and Carey and Bruce, our producers, and that he'd get even or something. I mean, you can guess the rest."
Cam put an arm around Penny.
"Then he walked out before anyone could do anything sensible, and no one's seen him since," Cynthia concluded, shrugging again.
"And you think he'd come here and try something?" Cam asked, eyes huge.
"Well, probably not, because Bruce and Carey aren't here much, and they're the two he seems to have the beef with, but he really seems off his rocker right now, and he's really been humiliated, and he has an ego the size of South America, you know?" Cynthia smiled wryly. "We'll probably hire a couple of extra security guards for the front and the stage doors, just to be safe."
Cam and Penny let out simultaneous sighs of relief.
"You know, he followed us a couple of times, showed up at the apartment and harassed Penelope," Cam said, tightening his arm around his girlfriend's shoulder.
"What? Why didn't you tell me before?" Cynthia sat up straighter in her chair and uncrossed her legs.
"We thought they were, you know, isolated incidents," Penny explained.
"I heard about the one time, at Loco's," Cynthia said, tapping her nails against the desk. "I assumed it was the only time."
"It wasn't, but there's been nothing since," Penny offered.
Cam again thought about the Fourth, but kept his mouth shut.
Cynthia nodded. "Hopefully he's holed up at his apartment, tying one on, or better, he's just left town," she offered.
"Fifteen minutes," the stage manager's voice came over the loudspeaker. "Full run-through, everyone, please."
"Shit, you guys still need makeup and costumes, go!" Cynthia scolded.
"Okay, we're going, we're going," Penny and Cam headed toward their dressing rooms.
"Oh, Penny, I almost forgot!" Cynthia called.
"Yeah?"
"How should I put this?" Cynthia smiled.
"What?"
"You need to make yourself look a little plainer."
"Huh?"
Cynthia continued to smile.
"We, all of us who're watching from the house? We all agree that lately you're looking too, um, happy and pretty and bloomily beautiful and starry-eyed and all that." Cynthia flicked her eyes to Cam, who was still standing next to Penny. "It seems being in love agrees with you, kiddo. You're going to have to try a little harder to look miserable and unhappy and plain with your makeup, okay?"
Penny smiled.
"Okay."
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