ᴀᴅ ᴍᴇʟɪᴏʀᴀ ~ ᴅᴘꜱ (ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍᴇᴇᴋꜱ)

23 - curtain call

The audience erupts into thunderous applause as the cast takes a synchronous bow. Charlie leaps to his feet, the rest of us falling half a beat behind. Todd lets out a boisterous whoop! while Cameron tries to whistle through his fingers. He isn't successful.

An unwavering smile sits stubbornly on my face. Neil was... good. Like, really good. He melted entirely into the role in a way I'd never seen before. Granted, my experience with theater has been limited before tonight, but still. Something tells me that that sort of passion is hard to come by. Hell, there were moments I could barely recognize him up on the stage.

His dedication only faltered at one moment towards the middle of the play. His eyes grew distant as he spotted something in the back, but only briefly. His quick recovery mirrored that of the day at the rowing competition, and the show went on.

"Yeah, Neil!" Charlie cheers, accompanied by Amy's applause from his left.

Neil acknowledges some off-stage production crew as his castmates clap. Soon after, the rest of the actors push Neil forward, prompting a second bow. Meeks and Todd coordinate a chant for the group as their friend relishes in the spotlight.

The boy steps back into line with his peers as the curtain draws to a close. In the last moments before the velvet engulfs the stage, Neil turns his back on the audience and puts his hands out.

The audience's applause dampens into a titillated chatter as rows of patrons file into the walkway. We hang back for a moment, exchanging our favorite moments from the play and allowing the contents of it to sink in. I re-introduce myself to Chris as we pass hers and Knox's seats on the way into the lobby.

-

Amy and I lean against the concessions counter as the herd in the lobby begins to thin. The boys nonchalantly hoard around the doorframe between the theater and the front, waiting to ambush Neil upon his debut.

"I see what he was so worked up about now. Some of those lines were pretty wordy," Amy says, battling with her lighter as a cigarette hangs loosely between her teeth.

"Well, it is Shakespeare. He's kinda known for that," I reply, looking down at my Mary Janes. In the bustle of the local theater scene, somebody scuffed my right shoe. I'll have to deal with that later.

"Smartass." Amy nudges my arm before returning her focus to her lighter. After a few more attempts, it ignites, casting a glow on her face over the muted fluorescent lights. I begin to rebut before familiar calls grab my attention: "Neil! Neil!"

I see his face before I catch up with the other Welton boys. Neil walks through the wake of an older man ahead of him, ignoring the exclaims around him. His eyes are cast downward, glancing briefly to the side every few seconds before returning back to the man in front of him. His energy from before has entirely dissipated; he looks weary, tired, resigned. The older man pushes through the crowd, not even flinching at the disgruntled cries around him.

Todd nudges past me and calls for Neil. The actor glances over for a moment, as he did before, but quickly looks back as recognition hits him. A few half-hearted apologies get lost on the way from his mouth to us as he continues to trudge through the crowd. Todd's face, originally lit with excitement and pride, smothers as he catches sight of the man in front of Neil. The Captain and the others pass us as Todd stands, stunned. He begins to walk towards the door but I pull him back.

"Todd, who is that?" I yell over the crowd. He doesn't respond; instead, he pulls from my grip forcefully, too forcefully for the Todd I know, and rejoins the group.

I look over at Amy, lit cigarette still gripped in her teeth, now crushed under the force of her bite. Her face falls serious as well.

We both push off of the counter and exit the theater to see Mr. Keating talking with Neil. The teacher congratulates his student on his stellar performance, unaware (or simply ignoring) the fear on Neil's face. The man from before pulls Neil away from the Captain and says something. I only catch the last few words: "...stay away from my son."