Flaming

Jonatho ignores him, squeezing Zakary’s hands. “It’s time to show what’s been hiding inside you all along. Blow their expectations out of town. You’re about to burst into awe-inspiring flames, Red. You’re made of the stuff of every dream you’ve ever had.”

Just then, Becky rushes into the greenroom and, with a dejected sigh, flings her clipboard onto the table with a loud clatter. “I guess the production’s toast. My last two contacts are busy or out of town this weekend. We’re screwed. I don’t know what they would do even if they were available. Is it too much to ask to turn our show into a staged reading? Have you run that idea past Jonatho? Or—” The tension in the room seems only now to occur to her. “Is something going on?”

“Our esteemed playwright,” announces Oliver in a flippant tone, “seems to think that our beloved stagehand Zakary, who hasn’t acted a day in his professional life, is fit to replace Hudson … based on the tiny fact that he knows the lines. Is that not the biggest insult to the hardworking and ever-so-devoted entertainment industry you’ve ever heard?”

Zakary isn’t sure whether it comes from the encouraging words of Jonatho, or the look of doubt on Becky’s face, or the questioning mockery of the director. But he finds a fire swelling inside him that has everything and nothing to do with the flaming red hair on his head. This is what he dreamed of for years. Between inviting a near-stranger into his apartment and baring his soul (and a whole lot more) to him, Zakary has already done a number of things he thought he’d never do in just a day.

What’s one more?

“I’ll do it.”

Everyone faces him. A different sort of silence settles over the room—a silence of disbelief.

“I’ll do it,” Zakary repeats. “The play. Hudson’s role. If he really doesn’t show up or return any calls, if he doesn’t arrive at the very last minute, then … I’ll do it. Though I … may need a different costume,” he adds as an afterthought. “I do have a good half a foot in height over Hudson.”

Jonatho cracks a smile of relief, then squeezes Zakary’s arms encouragingly. Oliver shakes his head and mutters, “What’s my life come to?” Becky seems to be caught between having a panic attack or bursting into laughter, yet neither happens.

Less than an hour later, Zakary is seated in the dressing room, stage makeup on, fully costumed, and staring at his bewildered face in the brightly-lit mirror—a face he barely recognizes. They got him dressed and ready in record time. The news was given to Emilio, and a very fast run-through of the first few scenes of the play commenced backstage where so much information was put into Zakary’s head that he worried he wouldn’t retain a bit of it. It all happened so fast.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember everything,” Jonatho tells him when Zakary stands in the wings five minutes before the curtain goes up, listening to the gathering audience. “The truth is, with the stage lights on you, you can’t even see the audience anyway. They’re not really there. It’s just you and Emilio. You and your lover. You and the story. And you know what? Even if something goes off-script, that’s theatre for you, right? Emilio is experienced. He had professional improv on his acting résumé, I’m pretty sure. He’ll go along with you for the ride. Just stay true to your heart and the audience won’t know the difference.”

Zakary turns to Jonatho. “The truth is, I have no idea how it will feel until I’m out there. Maybe I will be terrified. Maybe I will realize I don’t know the lines as well as I thought I did.”

“Or maybe you will realize the stage is where you belonged all along.”

Zakary gazes into Jonatho’s eyes. The warm spark of encouragement that lives in them puts him at ease. Just one night alone with him, and he feels like Jonatho’s stolen a piece of his soul. “Are you this passionate about everything in life?”

Jonatho chuckles. “Not really. Most things in my life disappoint me, to be honest. Most things let me down. Or dishearten me. Or make me question myself.” He takes hold of Zakary’s arms, squeezing. “You aren’t one of them.”

They only just became intimate yesterday, and it already feels like a whole era of ups and downs has passed between them.

“Places!” calls out Becky.

Just like that, it’s time.

Jonatho stands in the wings while Zakary heads into place on the stage behind the curtain. Emilio is already seated on the couch, ready. The pair of them face the back of the curtain as the lights in the house slowly dim and the audience quiets down to perfect silence. The music of the opening scene is cued to start.