Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
That meant handing the job of running the show to the ready and perfectly capable Tamika, who was familiar with the order of events inside and out, knew every cue, and had lots of experience as an assistant director and stage manager from her high school theatre days. She wasn’t the least bit nervous or overwhelmed at the idea of taking over for Malcolm. In fact, she’s on top of it.
But right now, she’s on top of me. “Tamika, hey,” I greet her distractedly back. “Sorry. Are we at five minutes ‘til?”
She blinks. “Cole, we were at five minutes, five minutes ago. It’s time to start the show. Frankie’s about to introduce you guys. Are you ready to join Anthony and Dean in the wing?”
I shit my lungs straight out of my ass and have to shove them right back in to say: “Y-Yes, I’m ready, totally ready.”
“Alright. You’ve got this.” Tamika gives me a wink, pats me on my arm, then guides me over to the left wing of the stage, where I am met by a surprisingly calm Dean and a toe-tapping Anthony.
I don’t even have the space to take a breath before at once, music bursts from the speakers above us, the crowd explodes into a literally booming eruption of cheers and screams, and the young and handsome emcee Frankie Lopez, who also did theatre with Tamika back in high school and was cast in nearly every leading role, marches onto the stage with the microphone. “Good evening, good evening! Dios mío, we have got ourselves a lively and amazing crowd tonight! Look at your beautiful faces! Welcome, welcome! Oh, what an amazing night we’re about to have together!”
Anthony grabs hold of my hand suddenly.
I turn to him. “Anthony?”
“I can’t do this,” he hisses, his eyes reflecting sheer terror as he stares at the stage. His hand quivers uncontrollably within mine.
My own issues are forgotten in an instant. “Hey, relax. Think about the outcome, alright? By the end of this, you’ll have tons of women vying for your heart. Won’t be able to bat them away.”
“I don’t want those women,” he says, and even his voice is shaking as badly as his hand. “I just want to be with you guys. I want us to be at that mansion kickin’ back and doin’ none of this shit. I want—I want—” He’s nearly in tears. “I want to leave.”
I let go of his hand and grab his shoulders, facing him to me. “We’re all in this together, remember? We’re a team. You, me, and Dean, a power team. I’ve got your back. Dean’s got it, too. There’s nothing to worry about, alright?”
Frankie says something else, and the crowd screams with joy, the applause so loud, the very stage beneath our feet seems to tremble. It does not help my case.
Anthony’s eyes grow double as he looks at me. “Cole …”
Frankie spreads an arm. “Are you ready to meet your special men? Yes? Is that a hell yes? Alright! Let’s bring them out here!”
Music blasts from the speakers over our heads.
That’s the cue.
Dean sets the example by heading confidently onto the stage, smiling broadly and waving at the crowd with grace. After a brief and unintended game of tug-of-war using my wrist as a rope with a seriously-freaked-out Anthony, both of us end up stumbling out onto the stage together behind the calm, poised, and studly Dean. Anthony straightens up next to me when he realizes he doesn’t have a choice anymore, then proceeds to stiffly walk on ahead, waving rigidly at the crowd like a rusted tin man, eyes wide with terror. I follow behind them and put a casual smile on my face as I wave at the crowd.
Honestly, it isn’t as terrifying as it seemed from backstage. I hit my mark and stand in my spotlight, waving at everyone. The stage lights are so bright that I can’t hope to make out a single face in the vague semidarkness of the audience, broken only here and there by a flickering candle among the table centerpieces.
I also realize it was never coming out onto the stage that had me feeling any sort of way. It’s Noah. Wondering about his state of mind. Hoping he’s okay. Wanting him by my side or else out there in the audience somewhere to cheer me on.
A sudden thought occurs to me: what if he is out there?
“Dean King!” cries out Frankie after making an introduction, to the tune of cheers, whistles, and rampant applause. Dean gives a handsome smile and bows at the audience, bringing his hands together to show his appreciation. “Anthony Myers!” The crowd continues to roar while Anthony, a literal lead pipe in the shape of a human being, stares out at the blurry nothingness where all the cheering comes from, and does absolutely nothing at all. “And last but certainly not least: Cole Harding!”