Page 9 of The Drama King (The University Players Duet #1)
But I never forgot that this was all part of a larger campaign, that every moment of apparent collaboration could be turned against me later.
When he offered genuine acting notes, I had to wonder if he was setting up ways to undermine my performance in front of the professor.
When he praised my interpretation, I questioned whether he was gathering intelligence on my vulnerabilities.
"I think that's enough for today," I finally said as we reached a natural stopping point. "We've established the basic framework."
"Indeed we have." Corvus stood, gathering his materials with characteristic precision. "I must say, you're a more resilient scene partner than I anticipated."
"Thank you," I replied carefully, unsure whether the comment was meant as a compliment or a threat.
"One more thing," he said as I reached for the door.
His voice carried a note of casual menace that made my skin prickle.
"Professor De Scarzis will be evaluating not just our individual performances but our partnership dynamic.
How well we work together, support each other's choices, create believable intimacy. .."
The word hung in the air between us, loaded with implication.
"I'm sure we'll manage professional collaboration," I said firmly.
"Oh, I'm counting on it." His smile was sharp-edged. "After all, Elizabeth's entire arc depends on her relationship with the men who hold power over her. The audience needs to believe she's truly vulnerable to them, truly at their mercy. It won't work if you hold back."
With that parting shot, he left, leaving me alone in the studio with my racing heart and the uncomfortable certainty that our scene study sessions were going to be far more challenging than any academic assignment should be.
As I left the studio, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirrored wall. My cheeks were flushed, eyes bright with adrenaline, posture still carrying Elizabeth's determined defiance. I looked like someone who'd been through an ordeal but emerged intact.
Whether that appearance was strength or simply the calm before a much worse storm remained to be seen.
The next few days passed in a blur of hypervigilance and calculated normalcy.
I attended classes, completed assignments, maintained the facade of a dedicated student while constantly scanning for threats.
The pack's presence felt omnipresent. A glimpse of Dorian in the library stacks, Oakley's laugh echoing from the dining hall, Corvus appearing in my peripheral vision at seemingly random moments.
It was psychological warfare at its most insidious, designed to keep me off balance and reactive. Every interaction required careful calculation: maintain composure, show no weakness, give them no ammunition for complaints about my professionalism or social adjustment.
Our second Scene Study session was scheduled for Thursday afternoon, and I spent the morning preparing.
I researched additional background on "The Crucible," analyzed Elizabeth Proctor's character arc in scholarly articles, even watched three different professional productions online to study how other actors had approached the role.
If Corvus wanted to turn our academic partnership into psychological warfare, I'd meet him with superior preparation.
"You're overthinking this," Stephanie observed as she watched me organize my notes for the third time.
We were in our dorm room, and she was supposedly working on lighting design homework while actually monitoring my anxiety spiral.
"I'm being thorough," I corrected, color-coding my character analysis by emotional beat. "If he tries to catch me unprepared or claims I'm not contributing equally to the project, I'll have documentation of my work."
"Vespera." She closed her laptop and turned to face me directly. "You're treating this like you're preparing for battle."
"Because I am." I looked up from my notes, meeting her concerned gaze.
"This isn't just scene study anymore, Stephanie.
It's a test of whether I can function under direct, sustained pressure from one of them.
If I crack, if I can't handle working with Corvus professionally, it gives them grounds to question my readiness for the program. "
She was quiet for a moment, processing the implications. "And if you succeed? If you prove you can work with him effectively despite the harassment?"
"Then I've shown that their intimidation tactics aren't enough to break me," I said. "Which means they'll need to escalate to more direct methods."
"Wonderful. A no-win scenario."
"Not no-win," I corrected, gathering my materials. "Just challenging. Elizabeth Proctor faced impossible choices too, but she found ways to maintain her integrity even under extreme pressure."
"Elizabeth Proctor is a fictional character," Stephanie pointed out. "And if I remember correctly, her story doesn't end particularly well."
"She saves her soul," I replied. "Sometimes that's the only victory we can hope for."