Jenna Hartley

The play, so far, had been a success. Despite the lack of microphones, the audience could hear the jokes and were playing along, laughing and calling out where appropriate. I was rushing about trying to make sure everyone was where they should be and putting all the props in their correct place. It was during the performance when I felt like Cara, the director, she was busy performing and doing a great job and I was left to organise the troops.

The extras were the worst; they giggled and acted like sheep following each other around. So if one person was in the wrong place, most likely so were the rest of them. It was almost the intermission and I was glad, my heart was racing as I dashed from backstage to the wings handing Aladdin the turban she should have been wearing. I collapsed on a chair backstage next to Craig and took a breather,

“Run off your feet?” he grinned,

“Man, I forgot how exhausting it was!” I smiled back, Craig played Abanazar, he was one of the best actors we had. He had a beautiful face with high cheek bones and he smiled easily. When I had started working here I had had a crush on him, but as time moved on I realised he wasn’t willing to open up and share his personal issues to just anyone and our friendship had never grown further than a passing hello. I knew the make-up artist had the hots for him and I wasn’t going to try and steal her thunder, she was in a league above most of us.

“Is it going well?”

“I think so,” I grinned, “it’s the last scene before our interval so I’m taking a break before I have to rush around sorting out everything again,” I smiled and closed my eyes slowly. Seconds later I heard the audience clap and the squeak of the curtain closing, I groaned and stood up reluctantly. “Time for round two,” I muttered as I left Craig and went to the stage. I began by moping up the floor which no one had thought to do, the stagehands were busy moving the set around ready for the next act. It was dark behind the curtains and one of the stagehands tripped over my back as I bent down, we collapsed and he squashed me. “Ouch,” I mumbled rubbing my shoulder, the mysterious stagehand in black got up and hurried off stage without so much as a ‘sorry.’ I rung out the cloth and got up, people these days eh?! I thought to myself.

Backstage was manic, the extras, or as I called them – monsters, were gossiping and sipping cups of water. The main cast were in their own changing rooms and I knocked on Cara’s to check everything was okay, I opened the door and stepped in and stopped. Helena was stood helping Cara out her outfit; I quickly closed the door to stop the male leads seeing Cara in her underwear and made sure I was looking directly at her face.

“Just here to check up,” I mumbled a little embarrassed, Cara didn’t seem phased,

“Everything is great, you’re doing a great job organising all the little monsters,” Cara winked using my nickname. I smiled and nodded,

“Anything I can do?”

“Just keep being excellent!” Cara smiled, I nodded and left.

“Bye Cara, bye Helena!” I called.


Act two was about to begin, I was stood in the wings with the stagehands waiting as the curtains opened slowly. The extras ran on and I relaxed, everything was where I should be. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see a stagehand, he grinned sheepishly and pulled me backstage so we could talk.

“Sorry about earlier,” he muttered. He had dark brown eyes and almost black hair which curled attractively on his head; he was tan and had white teeth.

“Oh it was you!” I smiled, “It’s not a problem,”

“I thought I’d injured you, I went to get a first aid kit, but when I got back, you were gone!”

“I was fine, just bashed my shoulder a bit,” I said rubbing it, the dull pain became a sharp pain and I grimaced.

“I’m a first aider, let me take a look.” he gentle peeled down my top to reveal my shoulder and bra strap. His hands were cool and felt nice as they caressed my skin, “Looks like you’ve got a growing contusion…”

“…A what?” I interrupted, my voice a high squeak,

“A bruise,” he muttered a thin smile on his lips,

“So it’s only a bruise?”

“A fairly bad one, looks like your going to have a nice purple mark there for a while,”

“Nice,” I grinned,

“I’m sorry, again,” he smiled a little embarrassed, “any way I could make it up to you?”

“It’s really not that big of a deal…” I muttered,

“Dinner perhaps?” he asked, my eyebrows raised as I was taken aback,

“Perhaps,” I allowed,

“Sunday at eight?”

“Sounds good,” I smiled and watched as he made his way back to the wings, I didn’t even know his name…

The End

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