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Chapter Sixty
Point of View: Nick

Kayla, Drew and I sat in the back of a rented car, waiting outside of Kayla's rehearsal. The cops were inside apprehending Leon so that Kayla could go in to do the rehearsal with Leon’s understudy. Kayla had scooted low in the seat to keep from watching them take Leon out of the theater. She was still not thrilled with the idea of having reported him, despite Zoe and I insisting that it was best for her.

It had taken relatively little to press the charges. It had turned out it wasn't the first time Leon had been charged with assault, and the facts checked out with just a few phone calls. I had been amazed how easy the charges against Leon had rolled, and it made me feel a little better about the issue with Krystal - evidently, if they really wanted to press the charges on me, I'd would already be behind bars.

Of course I’m sure pressing charges for killing someone work differently.

When the cops dragged Leon out of the theater's entrance, he saw the sleek black car, and broke free from the cops, running right at us, fire in his eyes. Drew, with reflexes like a cat, had the door locked just before Leon's hand could reach the handle, and Kayla shoved her face into my arm, covering her ears and gasping as Leon bounced off the window like a puma. "You think you're so fucking lucky?" screamed Leon into my window's glass, making it fog up with condensation from his breath. He slammed his fist against the window. "She doesn't put out, you dumb shit. She's a cocktease!" he bellowed. “I’ll fucking get it if it kills me,” he added.

"Go ahead," I yelled, "Vandalize another car, I don't mind reporting you some more." Drew rested a hand on my knee, silently telling me to take it easy and let him do all the stupid yelling. I nodded, and turned to Kayla. The cops grabbed Leon and pulled him away as he hissed and spat like an angry tomcat. I ran my fingers down the length of Kayla’s back. “Hey,” I whispered, “It’s gonna be okay.”

Kayla shook her head, “I don’t know that,” she answered. “He’s so mad.”

Once the cops had taken the trash out, Drew got out of the car and looked around before escorting us into the theater. I’d never gotten to see Kayla work before, so I was excited. Her costars were all huddled around the stage, looking frightened after having Leon taken out. One young girl came over, her eyes wide, and, trying not to look at me, said, “You’re so brave, Kayla.”

Kayla only grunted and moved past her, disengaging from my grip on her arm, and dropped her bag into a seat on the front row before climbing on stage. The girl that had come over looked at me as soon as Kayla was gone and I felt her eyes travel my arm. “Are you and Kayla, you know, a thing?” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered flatly, watching Kayla on the stage as she stretched.

“Well, if you ever get bored,” she said with a smile, and I felt her slip a piece of paper into my shirt sleeve, lingering a little to long on my biceps, and then she walked away. I didn’t have to look to know she was shaking her booty as she walked. I heard the other two girls she’d been standing with start giggling hysterically. I reached to my shirt sleeve and took the paper out. On it was written “Lauren” and a phone number, but where the “-“ would be was a little girly heart. I crumpled it and shoved it in one of my butt pockets, intending to throw it away later.

Kayla was an amazing actress, but I couldn’t help but wonder what this play was gonna do for her musically. I mean it was supposedly a musical, but it was more like a regular dialogue play with some songs tossed in there, and they weren’t even all that well written. Kayla’s voice was unbelievable, just as it had been when she’d sung Beautiful Stranger in my driveway. She was taking a mediocre script and show tune and making them into brilliance. Leon’s understudy was crap, though.

“No, no, no,” cried the director, who was a flamboyant little guy, “No, this is all wrong,” he waved his arms over his head. “We’ve only got a few days left before opening night and this is all wrong, all wrong.” He tossed his copy of the script to the floor and stomped upon it in an overdone gesture, then picked it back up and sat back down. “We must, must improve!”

Drew grunted as he stepped up beside me. “This theater’s small,” he commented.

“Yeah it is.”

“There’s a closed in alley outback, other than that, she’s perfectly safe here,” he commented, then he shrugged, “But there’s no way into that alley except this back door behind the dressing rooms, which I doubt anyone would ever notice. Its not accessible to the street. Lord knows what the purpose of it is.” He wandered away and I heard the auditorium doors close behind him. Drew was thorough. I was sure he was going to look around the perimeter again, so he knew every nook and cranny of the place before we left.

When Kayla was done with the rehearsal – Leon’s understudy having greatly improved over the course of the work – she joined me, looking much happier than she had before we entered the theater. She, like me, cheered up while performing. It made me smile that we had yet another thing in common. “You did really well,” I praised her, putting my hands into the back pockets of her jeans and pulling her into me, “Your voice is beautiful, have I mentioned that?”

Kayla smiled, “Thank you.”

Lauren walked by and winked and mouthed ‘call me’ to me as she passed.

Kayla didn’t notice, and I didn’t react, I just held her, happy that she was happy.



Kayla came over my house after the rehearsal and she was making lunch – boxed mac and cheese – while I sat on the counter eating a celery stick I’d smothered with peanut butter. I waved the celery stick at her. “What else are you doing to jump start your music career?” I asked, “Do you have demos or headshots or anything?”

Kayla shook her head, “Not yet. I was going to buy some new headshots with the money I got from the play, but I don’t have the money to buy the recording studio time for a demo. Zoe was going to with the money she got from –“ Kayla laughed, “From you, actually.”

I crunched on the stick and thought for a moment, “Kayla you don’t have to pay for the studio, I’ve got a recording studio.”

“You do?” she asked, dropping the wooden spoon she was using to stir the macaroni around in a whirlpool motion while they cooked. The spoon spun around in the pan several times before slowing to a stop.

“Yeah,” I answered, “Right up stairs. I mean not all the equipment’s working, Krystal kind of had a field day with the soundboard. But we could hook up the computer and do a relatively decent tape without the soundboard. And I’ve got a soundboard coming next week – the fellas and I are gonna be taping soon and I wanted the studio ready for the takes we’ll be doing here.”

“You’d help me do that?” she asked, eyes wide and excited.

I laughed, “Baby, I love doing that stuff, its my passion, remember?”

“Oh my God, I’d love it if we could do that.” She rushed over and stood between my knees, her hands on my thighs, “Seriously.”

I smiled, “Okay. After lunch.”

“Today?” she gasped.

“Sure. We can play with it anyways, I mean we don’t have to cut a really great thing today, we can just mess around. It’ll be fun.”