Prince Charmings (BOOK ONE)

25

"You are unusually perky? Who drugged your coffee and where can I find them?" Bella asked, slinking her way over to me.

I paused in tugging on my tights, not entirely comfortable with the way her eyes roamed over my grey underwear.

"Can't a guy just be excited for another day in front of an adoring crowd?" I quipped back, moving on to button my shirt and Bella snorted.

"'Adoring crowd' passed opening night, now we just have geriatrics and tired housewives who want to see two cute boys kiss," Bella said and took a seat at the vanity. "Seriously, you're rather chipper and as far as I know you have more than three hundred hours left still to serve, and I no more cute little plays to fill them with."

"Always pleasant chatting with you, Bella," I responded, thankful for the knock that sounded on the door from Kyle, alerting me to head backstage.

"Why the limp?" Bella frowned as I slowly passed her. I groaned, forcing myself to straighten up when she immediately stood, eyes narrowed in suspicion behind several layers of winged eyeliner.

"Bike mishap, don't worry I'm on enough painkillers to breeze through tonight's performance," I bluffed, going so far as to pat my right hip and flash her grin that to ensure she knew things were sunny-side up in Beau-Land.

"I knew you were on something!" she gasped, applauding her detection skills as I rolled my eyes and pushed open the door. "Use tongue this time! I had complaints that yesterday was too chaste!"

Blocking out her words I slipped to the side wing, nodding at a worn-out Kyle who had his hands over his ears, blocking out Astrid's thick voice. I frowned at the sound, arching a worried brow Kyle's way.

"She's sick," he said and crossed his arms. "The girls sneezed all over her sleeves to the point where I think we should just burn the dress when tonight's done."

"Shit," I frowned, watching as Astrid smeared her foundation in an attempt to wipe her sweaty brow. "She doesn't look too hot, are you sure she's alright to be out there?"

Kyle fixed me a hard look and I backed away, hands raised just as Astrid dropped to the ground like mud. The thud echoed across the stage, met by a collective gasp by the audience who cautiously applauded at Astrid's dramatics.

"That was a little early, wasn't it?" I asked and Kyle glanced at his phone and then at the stage where Candice was not so subtly kicking Astrid's unmoving side.

"By about three minutes. Whatever, we'll just roll with it," Kyle said, cutting the stage lights. Immediately the stagehands swept past, two of them lifting Astrid into the coffin.

"Where is Spencer?" Kyle asked, going as far as to shove my shoulder to the side in order to check behind me.

"How would I know? I'm not his keeper," I said, defensive and with sweaty palms I discreetly wiped on my tights when Kyle let me go, ignoring the sting in my right hand.

"Weird," Kyle said, gesturing to me in my entirety. Throwing one last analyzing look he walked off to the side doors, head held high as he all but kicked them open. Barking something outside he stepped back in, clipboard jutting into my side as he shoved me onstage just as a ruffled Spencer jogged in from outside.

"Good luck," he whispered, speeding past me and to his mark. There was something in the way he said it that left goosebumps across my arms the entire time we were on stage that night. Neither of us flumbled our lines, but I caught Spencer eyeing my arm wearily as I clasped onto a limp Astrid's hand, fingers practically dripping in sweat from the heatwaves she was giving off. From her glass coffin she forced a smile that was green around the edges enough that I almost called for a medic until Spencer grasped my shoulders and the world focused to a narrow funnel filled with nothing but Spencer Fox.