23. Nora/Wes

TWENTY-THREE

I haven't beenable to stop fidgeting since we sat down. I've seen a few shows at local theaters in Colorado, but never anything on a scale like this. Being in the audience on Broadway has been a dream of mine since I was a kid, and sitting here while waiting for the curtains to open for Mamma Mia! I feel on top of the world.

Despite everything that has happened in the last few weeks with Ryan and the show, this somehow makes my dreams feel that much more achievable. It's like I can reach out and grab them. As if I'll be able to get through this next year and a bit at Drayton and get my name out there.

Only minor problem is actually following through with all these tapes and auditions. As fun as the process is, there's always that doubt seeping in, telling me I"m not good enough. I spend too much time scrolling through social media, seeing girls my age who are prettier and more talented than me, and wonder if I'm in way over my head.

It's been years since I've booked something real. There's been a few modeling roles for upcoming swim lines and short adverts for popular brands. Apart from that, getting a TV or Film gig has been hard as fuck.

There's so much more to consider when taking a role in a show. If they want recurring characters, my schedule won't allow it. If it's a popular show and I'm thrown in for a few minutes, people will have a field day with random actors being dropped into a pool of nepo babies. Quitting school is not an option. I pride myself on getting a degree and even having the opportunity to go to college. I don't want to launch that out of the window just for a few minutes of screen time. I want to be serious about a role if I'm willing to commit more time to it.

There's also the very real fear of losing my spark before I get my big break. I've spent so much time holed up in my room and in my mind that being creative or leaving the time for it has been a chore. I've had no time to get my acting groove back that isn't channeled into my work for college, and that's what is going to fuck over my next audition for this new project.

Wes appears back in our seat with a bucket of popcorn, startling me from my daydream which took a left turn. As he shuffles back into the row, he gives me a big, dopey grin. "God, it's like the Hunger Games out there."

I chuckle. "Is it busy?"

"Very," he concedes, flopping down into the seat beside me. He hands over a bottle of water and then the popcorn. "It's sweet. We can share."

My eyebrows crunch. "I thought you didn't like sweet popcorn."

He just shrugs. "I don't." He ignores the skeptical look I give him and he shucks off his jacket and pulls out his phone. "Wanna take a few pics to post?"

"Yeah," I say, swallowing the popcorn I immediately shoved in my mouth. "Your Instagram is getting a lot of attention, loverboy."

"What can I say? They all think I'm obsessed with you," he mutters, nudging his arm into mine.

"Well, that's kinda true," I tease, turning to him.

"I guess it's pretty accurate," he whispers. He brings his fingers to my chin, his thumb brushing the side of my mouth. My whole body erupts into flames at the smallest contact. "Got a bit of popcorn there, Sunshine."

I just nod because I can't tell if he's staring right at my lips or at the spot that supposedly got popcorn stuck there. Our eyes lock. Hold. Burn. For a second, I let myself imagine that this is real. That I'm sitting in the rows of the Broadway theater with someone who is actually my boyfriend. Someone who wants to see me succeed and doesn't compete with me. Someone who just gets me for me.

I clear my throat, wiggling out of his grip. "All good?"

He nods, slinging his arm around my shoulder naturally and trying to get us as close as possible. I let myself get lost in his scent for a second as he held me closer. The picture turns out cute, and for once, I see how good of a couple we are.

Somehow, our slightly red faces and outfits complement each other really well. As sweet as Wes is, he has this slight rough-around-the-edges vibe. His hair is a little messy, and whilst mine is half tied back in a pink ribbon, it's a bit messy, too. Where my blue and white dress is slightly creased, Wes's blue polo isn't perfect either. We just look comfortable together, and I don't think I've seen anything better.

Wes flicks through the program before handing it to me. "Right here," he says, pointing at the cover.

"What?"

"Your name is going to be right here, Stargirl." The serious tone in his voice mixed with my favorite nickname makes my stomach crowd with butterflies. I swallow, looking down at the piece of paper and imagining my name on there instead of the current cast. "You're going to do so many great things, and I can't wait to watch you grow into the person you want to become. I believe wholeheartedly that we will come back here twenty years from now, and you will have your name right here." He points at the program again. "And your name is going to be carved into stone all the way down in Hollywood. I can see it, Nora Bailey. You were born to be a star."

My eyes prickle with tears at the praise. "Do you think so?"

"Of course. I've seen you perform my whole life, and you've only gotten better. I want to see you on a stage here one day."

I look out onto the stage, and I picture it. A dreamlike sensation washes over me at the thought. If I look for long enough, I start to see it. I can see myself right there. Manifestation can only get me part of the way. I'm going to have to work a lot harder to get there from here.

"You will," I whisper.

Wes's eyes sparkle. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You'll be sitting in the front row with a t-shirt with my name on it," I tease.

He leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek before settling back in his seat. "I can't wait."

Leaving the theater,I'm practically buzzing with energy. It's racing through my entire body, one sharp whizz at a time. The atmosphere inside was electric, like all those clips I"ve endlessly watched online, but a thousand times more exhilarating. Every moment felt alive, each note, each movement—so vivid, so incredibly real. Stepping out onto the bustling streets of New York City, I"m still floating, caught up in the magic of it all.

"Did you see that, Wes!" I'm basically screaming in the middle of the street as we get lost in the crowd, trying to find our way back to the hotel.

"I was right there, Sunshine," he says, turning back to me. He's leading the way as I grip his hand for dear life so I don't lose him.

"Yeah, but it was insane. I feel like I'm dreaming but also insanely awake at the same time," I laugh, unable to stop myself.

"It was that good, huh?"

"Yeah," I sigh dreamily. "You had to have been there." He turns back to me and narrows his eyes before shaking his head. "You know what? You should definitely try out for community theatre when we get back."

"Nora."

"I'm being serious. You have a great face for acting. You're nailing this fake boyfriend shit. You'd be amazing," I admit, shoving the last bit of popcorn into my mouth before throwing it in the trash. Wes latches onto my jacket, making me gasp as he pulls me back into him.

"I have a great face because I was born naturally beautiful. I'm nailing the fake boyfriend shit because you're an incredible fake girlfriend, and I don't exactly take your word when you say I'm amazing."

"Okay, we'll circle back to the amazing girlfriend bit later… Why wouldn't you believe me?" I collide right with his back when the crowd stops at the crossing. Wes turns to me, resting his hands on my shoulders.

"You said it was amazing to skip class in senior year of high school so we could get high in your parent's backyard. You also said it was amazing to crowd surf at a small band concert last year, and that didn't end well for anyone involved. And let's not forget when you said it was amazing to try out that new sushi place downtown, only for us both to end up with food poisoning. So, yeah, your track record for "amazing" experiences isn't exactly perfect."

I stifle a laugh. "We had fun, didn't we?"

"That"s beside the point."

"That is the literal point I'm making."

"It's still irrelevant."

"You're infuriating," I mutter, holding my hands up to his face and closing my hands into fists. I want to shake his head the same way I did the first night here. I swear, he's driving me more and more crazy every day. "How long until we get back to the hotel? I'm getting hungry again."

"Not long."

I'm starting to think my answer was wrong because Nora sulks beside me for the next ten minutes as we try to get out of this area of the city. I'm assuming everyone who's staying in our hotel also went to the show because we've been following the crowd, and it's going the same way where we're headed.

Nora was right. The show was incredible. I've only really gotten into theater because of her, and it's been the best decision I've ever made. I've always loved music, but listening to theater soundtracks is different. There's more of a story to be told. There are hidden meanings that you have to figure out. Everything just feels like one big puzzle that you're dying to put together.

When the crowd starts to thin out, and we're still walking, Nora tugs on my arm, her fingers squeezing my hand impatiently. "How long now?"

"Like, five minutes."

"See, if this were five minutes in a film or a musical, it would fly by. This is absolute torture." She tugs onto my arm like an impatient child, her mouth etched into a frown.

"Great idea," I say, pulling out my phone. She eyes me curiously when Lay All Your Love on Me starts to play from my speaker. Her eyes sparkle when she realizes what I'm doing. "Are you ready, Sophie?"

"As I'll ever be, Sky," she replies, beaming.

I start singing first — horribly — playing my part the best I can. Most of the crowd"s voices are quiet when they hear how loudly I'm singing. I thought Nora would get embarrassed, but this seems to be the perfect thing for her. She's laughing uncontrollably before her eyes widen when most of the male voices in the crowd join in with me. The pre-chorus comes around, and it feels like we're all singing, completely lost in the music and the atmosphere of the city. Everyone is joining in by the time the chorus arrives, and I feel like I'm on top of the world. Everyone knows the lyrics perfectly, but when Nora's verse as Sophie comes around, I tune everyone out.

There's something so special about Nora's voice. I've listened to her sing a million times, but she manages to add her own take on every song. Even now, as she playfully sings, her singing almost brings tears to my eyes. It's so soft, slightly raspy, like it's been dipped in honey or smoothed over like butter. It's fucking perfect. She's fucking perfect.

By the time the song ends, we're all outside the hotel, we're clapping, all the kids are screaming and others curtsying at the applause.

Nora's beaming up at me, her whole face red, and her hair is a mess. "Thank you," she shouts. "That was incredible."

"Don't thank me," I laugh. I lean down into her, brushing her hair behind her ear. I press the softest kiss to the tattoo on her neck, and she shivers. "You're going to change lives with that voice of yours, Stargirl."

She doesn't say anything, but I watch the way her face softens before she wraps her arms around my neck. I hold her close to me, picking her up off the ground and nuzzling my face into the crease of her neck.

As I'm about to put her down, she doesn't let go of me and instead wraps her legs around my waist. If I weren't enjoying it this much, I'd ask her what she's doing. But I don't. I just hold her tighter and I carry her through the lobby.

When her feet hit the ground, and she flashes me that adorable as fuck smile, I swear my heart drops right out of my chest into the palm of her hands. I don't want anything to do with this stupid heart of mine anymore. It's all hers as far as I'm concerned.