Page 15

So damn proud

M onths ago, I purchased two tickets for the opening night of Gwen’s play. Having that second ticket is a sucky reminder of Noah’s betrayal, so I sell it. Using the extra money, I place an order for an extravagant bouquet for Gwen to celebrate her big night.

I haven’t seen my friend since I got the news she would be playing the lead. But we’ve kept in touch through texts. Knowing how stressed she is, I’ve made a point of sending her funny memes every day to break the tension.

Sifting through the internet, I find the perfect one to send her. It’s a picture of a group of actors on the stage with the words, “The day before opening night…Let’s add choreography!”

I giggle when I send it, hoping it will make her smile.

To my surprise, she texts me right back.

Lame. with a rolling eyes emoji.

“Oh, yeah…?” I snort. There’s one I saved on my phone but haven’t been brave enough to send yet. Scrolling through, I laugh out loud when I find it. It’s a humorous picture of an actor in costume, standing on stage with a bewildered expression on his face. “Practices lines for weeks…Forgets lines on Opening Night.”

I hold my breath when I send it.

She immediately texts back.

No, you didn’t!

I did!

I burst out laughing and have to wipe the tears from my eyes. But then I start to worry when time passes and she doesn’t text me back.

After several minutes, I finally get a message.

Just shared it with the cast. They loved it but think you’re a bitch for sending it.

I nervously text, What about you?

I can’t stop laughing!

I let out an audible sigh of relief.

Gotta go before I “forget” my lines.

I can’t stop grinning after reading Gwen’s text. I’m grateful that we totally get each other. Nobody in the world understands me like she does.

Still chuckling, I go through my closet looking for an outfit for her opening night. Laying out my favorite black skirt on the bed and pairing it with a charcoal gray blouse, I’m not impressed and decide it’s not enough for such an important event.

“I really need to do something with my wardrobe…”

Wanting something special for Gwen’s big night, I step out of my comfort zone and head to a second-hand thrift store. Unfortunately, I can’t find anything I like in my size but I’m too stubborn to leave the shop once I’m there.

Heading farther back into the clearance section, I tackle the jumble of unwanted clothes. It’s then that I notice a swath of purple underneath the rack. Kneeling on the old linoleum, I pull out a crumpled dress. Standing up, I look it over. The dress is two sizes larger than I normally wear, and the purple material is wrinkled and dirty from being carelessly tossed to the floor. But the bodice is embellished with simple filigree designs made of sequins that remind me of the white gown.

Wanting to see how it looks on me, I head to the counter and let a young woman know I’d like to try it on. She nods toward a pair of skimpy curtains in the back corner.

Triggered by the lack of an actual changing room, I almost walk out right then and there. But I fight through my discomfort, unwilling to give up now. Pulling the thin curtains closed, I laugh when I see an old mirror with a crack in the corner propped up against the wall. This is quite a step down from my shopping experience with Gwen.

Undeterred, I step out of my clothes and slip the dress on. Unlike the white gown, this dress has a zipper on the side so I can zip it up myself. When I do, I’m relieved to find that the dress hugs my curves comfortably, and I can’t help but wonder if someone labeled the size wrong.

Standing before the broken mirror, I twist in place, enchanted by the way the fabric of the skirt swishes as I move. I search for a price tag but can’t find one. Changing back into my clothes, I head back to the counter.

“Excuse me. How much is this? I can’t find a tag.”

The girl sighs and takes the dress from me, looking for the tag herself. Unable to find one, she shrugs.

“I’d like to buy it. Is there someone we can ask for the price?”

She grumbles. “I’m the only one who showed up today.”

I look at her with sympathy, having experienced that myself when I worked as a teenager. “That really sucks.”

She frowns. “It sure does.”

I pull a candy bar from my purse. “I was saving this to celebrate buying a new dress, but it looks like you need it more than I do.”

She smirks when she takes it from me and mutters, “Thanks.”

Looking at the dress again, she shakes her head. “That dress is in bad condition. Are you sure you want to buy it?”

“I found it crumbled on the floor, but it’s nothing I can’t fix.”

“Well, since it’s obviously a clearance item, I think thirty sounds fair.”

My heart races when I hear the price. “You sure? I don’t want you to get in trouble if it’s underpriced.”

She laughs. “If any of my coworkers were here, they’d have tossed it in the trash.”

I gratefully hand her my credit card. Since I had budgeted for more, I covertly leave an extra ten dollars on the counter. Taking the bag, I tell her, “You’ve just made my day.”

She shrugs, rips off the wrapper from the candy bar, and takes a bite. “Well, I’m glad one of us is happy.”

I return home, thrilled with my find. After a quick iron and spot clean, I put the dress on again. Standing in front of my mirror, I notice that the rich purple of the dress complements my chestnut hair and emerald eyes.

With the flowing skirt, sweetheart neckline, and exceptional discount, I decide I like this dress even better than the white one.

On opening night, I sit in the taxi on my way to the theater, clutching the outrageous bouquet I’ve gotten for Gwen. Wanting to properly celebrate this iconic moment with flowers, I purchased a huge basket of multicolored roses to represent the different events in her life that have led up to this moment.

In the center of the basket is a stunning Medallion rose, an eight-inch bloom that represents tonight’s performance. The card on the bouquet reads:

Gwen, I’m honored to be here with you when the world finds out how incredibly talented you are.

Your biggest fan!

~Soph

Pulling up to the front of the theater, I immediately regret the flower arrangement when I drop my clutch purse while getting out of the cab. I have to set the heavy basket down to grab my purse off the pavement. Clenching the purse between my teeth, while trying not to get lipstick on it, I carry the large basket with both hands as I shuffle toward the line.

So much for looking sophisticated and classy tonight…

Thankfully, one of the security staff members notices my struggle and takes pity on me. “Can I help you, miss?”

Handing him the basket first, I take the clutch from my mouth. “This is for Gwen Huntington. Is there any chance you could take it to her dressing room for me?”

Obviously swayed by the beautiful dress I’m wearing, he asks, “And you are…?”

“Her best friend, Sophie Lane.”

He hesitates for a moment, then nods at me. “Wait here.”

I watch as he walks over to a man dressed in all black, and the two lean in to talk. The second man then speaks into a two-way radio and nods to the security guy.

“Thank you!” I call out as he carries my outlandishly large arrangement into the theater. Joining the line I can’t stop smiling, imagining Gwen’s expression when she sees the flowers.

Thankfully, the line moves quickly, and it’s not long before I’m escorted to my seat. It’s way in the back, but still in the middle of the row, so I won’t miss any of the action. Passing everyone already seated to get to it, I’ve only just settled in my seat when I hear a man calling my name.

Looking in the direction I came from, I spot the security guard beckoning me to come to him.

Blushing, I stand up and have to say “Excuse me” to each person as I scoot past them a second time. When I reach the end of the row, I ask him in concern, “Is everything okay?”

“No,” he answers with a half-grin. “Miss Huntington was upset that I delivered the flowers instead of you. She’s demanding to see you straightaway.”

“Oh, fun!”

I follow behind him, thrilled that I get to see Gwen before the play begins. He guides me out of the auditorium and through the backstage hall to Gwen’s dressing room. The moment I enter, she stands up and asks in a trembling voice, “How could you?”

Worried, I cry, “What?”

“How dare you make me tear up when I’m in full makeup?”

I rush to give her a hug. “I wanted you to know how amazing you are!”

She pulls away to grab a tissue and carefully dabs her eyes. “You are the only person who understands how hard I’ve fought to get here.”

Forcing myself not to cry, I choke out, “You’ve been an inspiration to me ever since we were little.”

Gwen’s bottom lip quivers. “So, where are you seated, Soph? I want to know where to look for you when I’m on stage.” She frowns when I tell her my seat number. “That will never do!”

Sticking her head out the door, she calls for the stage manager. After mumbling something to him, she shuts the door and turns to me. “I feel nervous, Sophie.”

I smile with confidence. “Of course you do. It’s not every day that you get the chance to show a theater full of people just how amazing you are.”

Instead of smiling in agreement, she looks as if she might break into a full-on cry. “What if I—?”

I put my finger to her ruby lips. “There’s no reason to be afraid. Look at all of those flowers in the basket. They represent everything you’ve accomplished so far…including tonight’s performance. Nothing can stop you, Gwen.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath as if absorbing my words. “Yes…” she breathes out.

“And lucky for me, I get the privilege of sitting in the audience to enjoy your best performance.”

Nodding in agreement, Gwen opens her eyes again. “About that. I reserved seats for my parents, but they aren’t coming. So, you’ll be sitting in their place.”

I’m crushed for her. “I’m so sor—”

“I’m not,” she insists. “If they don’t want to be here, I don’t need their negative energy.”

“No, you don’t,” I agree in solidarity.

Aware that Gwen needs time alone to prepare before the curtain goes up, I give her one last hug before leaving the dressing room. Instead of going to my seat in the back, the stage manager leads me to the fifth row, and I sit down directly in the center. Even better, I have no one sitting next to me, so I have extra room to relax.

Even though Gwen was cavalier about her parents not coming, I know it must be hard on her. It’s incredibly unfair that someone as talented as Gwen doesn’t have the full support of her family behind her.

Although it’s their loss, I still feel heartbroken for my friend.

As the lights start to dim, I glance around the crowded theater. There’s a heightened sense of expectation in the audience that only happens on opening nights. I love the collective experience that theater brings to a performance. The energy and emotions of the actors are absorbed by the audience and then reflected back at the performers in a symbiotic exchange.

I suck in my breath when the lights dim completely and the murmurs in the crowd quiet as we wait for the curtain to open. I hear a man ahead of me mutter to the person beside him, “We can’t expect much when the lead is laid up in the hospital.”

The other person snorts. “Exactly.”

I bristle when I hear their comments. Moving restlessly in my seat, I ache to say something to defend Gwen, but keep my peace. I have no doubt her performance tonight will blow their doubts out of the water.

I hear hushed movements behind the curtain moments before it slowly opens, and the spotlight lands on Gwen standing alone on the stage. She looks majestic as she stares out over the crowd at a far-off point, her expression relaxed but her energy focused.

Moments pass, and the silence soon begins to feel heavy.

Someone in the crowd coughs uncomfortably.

I stare up at Gwen with a confident smile. You’ve got this, G!

As if she can read my thoughts, I notice her eyes dart momentarily in my direction before she begins to recite her monologue. There is a collective sigh of relief in the crowd.

However, I’m certain Gwen’s pause was simply for dramatic effect.

She is not here tonight to temporarily fill the void of another actress, but to bring the character to life. To embody this character so thoroughly that everyone will leave tonight believing the woman she is playing is as real as they are.

Gwen effortlessly draws the audience in and carries us on an emotional rollercoaster that leaves us breathless by the end. When the curtain finally closes, the auditorium is silent for a beat as we wrestle with the painful beauty of the ending.

Then the theater erupts in thunderous applause…

Moved beyond tears, I join the others in a standing ovation, clapping until my hands hurt. When the curtain opens again and Gwen finally walks up to take her bow, the applause grows almost deafening as people cheer for her tremendous performance.

It is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.