Page 4 of Finding Finn (Foggy Basin Season 2)

FINN

I ’ve always been someone who dresses for success, and absolutely everything I tried on this morning looked like I was trying way too hard.

I stared at my floppy brown hair and grabbed the hair gel, trying to get it to stay up instead of falling down in my face.

My brown eyes looked sunken and tired. I should have gone to bed earlier instead of staying up until midnight.

But I couldn’t stand it, and I had no idea which box my Kiehls was in.

At this point, I didn’t need face cream – I needed surgery.

I shouldn’t have tried to start unpacking.

I made it through a few boxes and stopped.

I wasn’t an eighty-year-old grandma, so I couldn’t stay in this house for long.

The wallpaper made me want to gouge my eyes out, but the doilies and lace curtains were really what drove me over the edge.

They were green. Who the fuck had green lace curtains?

I wouldn’t wish them on my ex, and he was a total asshole.

That bastard would hopefully rot in hell one day, and I could be the one who refuses to give him ice water.

Five years of my life were spent being in love with a man who found another lover the moment I went on tour.

I had no idea of the extent of his cheating until one of his holes showed up at our apartment when I surprised him with a quick trip home.

I had left Omaha on a three-day break and thought I’d spend one day with my boyfriend.

Surprise. He hadn’t been faithful.

Another surprise – he chose another dancer.

Marcus sucked. I hated that he had found such success. The bastard had just been nominated for a Tony. Thank God he lost, or I might be in jail for murder. Never date a fucking actor. That should be the motto of everyone.

I really needed to let this go. I needed to let him go. It had been four years for Christ’s sake. Four years of hating someone so much that they took up a huge part of your life.

God, I hated this shirt! I looked like a blood clot. I pulled the maroon polo over my head and tossed it onto the floor.

What was I doing? I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

I still had my dancer’s body – the dancer’s heart and soul – the dancer’s brain of perfection, but I no longer had the dancer’s ability.

I longed to be back in class and at the barre with a relevé and a plié.

To battement across the floor with a fouetté and a grand jete made you feel alive.

To bow with an audience on their feet as they applauded you at the end of a show.

The chorus bows first, and then the principals. Then all of us as one. I missed it.

Never again would I know the feeling of being a part of something great with people who were at the highest level of their abilities.

I was back at the basics. I was back where I learned everything I knew.

A community of people who worked towards a common goal – to learn, grow, and explore things that a small town rarely did.

It was rarely perfect, and sometimes the theatre made very bad choices.

I mean, I was in a production of Fiddler on the Roof without one Jewish person in the entire cast when I was just a kid.

My bottle dance was quite epic, even if it was very, very wrong.

I hoped that if nothing else, I’d be able to make some kind of difference here. Even if I had no idea what the fuck I was doing.

Oh! I should wear the white polo. Of course, duh!

The theatre was only a couple of blocks away.

I suppose that almost everything in this place was only a couple of blocks away.

I glanced around while we drove through yesterday, but I was too tired to even go out for dinner.

The kitchen boxes I unpacked weren’t even put away correctly.

I mean, the plates barely fit in the cupboards.

I was going to have to find another place to live sometime soon.

Reminder to self – when it says it comes furnished, look at the furniture.

But for now, I needed to go to the office.

I would have to walk through town a bit to get there, and all I could remember was that I turned right out of my house. It was somewhere off the main drag.

I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder before locking my door. The yard was quite pretty. Roses bloomed all along the sidewalk and up the small walkway. It did look like a small English garden. At least there was something lovely about this house.

Wow! I was being a total bitch. Sometimes it’s all that a person has, I suppose, and right now, I was holding onto whatever I had.

I didn’t have to stay here forever. It was a band-aid on my life.

Eventually, I could find another place to work – maybe a regional theatre somewhere near a big city. But first, I had to make this work.

Buffy was cute. She was very talkative, though.

I would have to rely on her for practically everything for a while since I had no idea what it was I was supposed to do.

Well, the job listing said what I had to do, but I had no idea how to do it.

I’d have to learn quickly, and who knew, maybe I’d even like it.

Maybe I’d enjoy being a mentor to these people the way Liz had been a mentor to me?

If I didn’t, this was going to really suck.

Kids were not my thing. Community theatre meant a lot of kids. My patience usually ran out pretty quickly, and I knew I’d have to work on that. I mean, they were doing Annie this season as one of the shows they chose. I fucking hated Annie.

What if they didn’t like me? I wasn’t always the most likable person in the room. I was a dancer with a dancer’s need for perfection. Community theatre was nothing if not perfect.

My inferiority complex only grew as I walked down the street.

I was only a block away from Main Street, and all of the little shops looked like something from a storybook.

A dress shop, a cute bookstore, a salon – each one of them adorable and quaint.

Oh! A bakery called Don’t Go Bakin’ My Heart caught my attention.

I hadn’t had anything for breakfast, so maybe a croissant.

I almost walked away. This was Foggy Basin, so the chances of them having anything besides cakes, cookies, and muffins were low.

I couldn't afford all of the calories. I wasn’t in dance class every day.

I could balloon up if I weren’t careful.

Why not? I pushed the door open, and the most magnificent scents washed over me. A woman with red hair stood behind the counter, reading a book. She glanced up and smiled at me.

“Welcome. What can I get you today?”

I walked over to the glass cases and peered in. What the actual fuck? This place was more like a bakery you would find in Paris or New York than what I expected. “I think I’ll have a croissant, please, and maybe a coffee?”

“Got it. Do you want creamer?”

“Black, please.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before. You visiting?”

“Just moved here. I’m working at the community theatre.”

“Oh, the playhouse! Nice. That must mean that you’re Finn, right? I do a play every now and then. We call it the playhouse around here. I’m so excited to meet you. I’m Tammy Sue.” She handed me a small bag with my croissant inside.

“Is the shop yours?”

“No,” she cackled. “My best friend Percy is the owner. I just work here and keep him and his husband in line. That’s my full-time job.” Her grin was infectious. “Here’s your coffee.”

“Can you tell me exactly where I’m supposed to go? I haven’t been to the comm… the playhouse yet, and I think I’m a little lost.”

“Oh, hon, you can’t get lost here. Trust me.

If you just keep walking around, you’d eventually bump into it.

Go one more block that way,” she pointed, “and turn down Arts Alley. The playhouse is halfway down. You’ll see the train in front.

We’re so excited to have a professional like yourself.

We all love the playhouse and have high hopes. ”

“Thank you,” I mumbled, feeling like a total fraud.

“It’s nice to meet you, Finn. Let me know if you ever need anything,” she smiled. I nodded and walked out of the adorable bakery and followed her directions. It was actually pretty easy to find.

I stopped in front of the train that I knew to be the theatre’s bars and café. That color of red was a choice, and not a good one. Who wanted a ketchup train in front of the theatre? The wooden deck and building stood tall behind the garish trains.

Alright… It was showtime.

I forced my feet to climb the small set of stairs and open the door to the lobby.

“You’re here!” Buffy jumped off the stool and gave me a quick hug. “Oh, we’re very huggy over here. Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s fine.” She really was easy to like. Her enthusiasm was contagious. “Theatre people are always huggy .”

“Oh, no, hon, I meant the town,” she giggled. “So where do you wanna start?”

“I honestly have no clue.” I shrugged. “Feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment,” I replied sheepishly.

“Well, you’re going to have to hit the ground running, I’m afraid.” I turned towards the new voice.

“This is my brother and technical director for the playhouse, Jim.”

I was agog.

“Nice to finally meet you.” The tall, muscular GI Joe strode forward with his hand out. I managed to shake it as I stared into his brown eyes.

“You, too. You’re not quite what I was expecting,” I blurted stupidly. I felt my face flush.

Buffy giggled.

“Where would you like to start? Financials?”

“God, no.”

“How about a tour of the theatre?” Jim looked unenthused as he offered.

“That sounds like a great place to start.”

“We had a major renovation about five years ago, and we performed in a church during that time. The light board, grid, and sound system all had a major overhaul. I’m very proud of it.”

“My community theatre had no sound system. So, I guess I'm already impressed.”