Last Minute
"
Turn at ten paces.
"
The duelists split apart, each step marked by calling out a number.
"One."
"Two."
"Three."
"Four."
"Five."
David Green and Julian Cromwell continue forward, pistols in hand, counting in unison.
"Six."
"Seven."
"Eight."
"Nine."
They each raise their final foot, preparing to pivot on the final, critical number.
"WAIT!" a voice cries out.
But it was too late.
"TEN!"
David, as the quicker of the two, whirls around and fires.
Directly into Lady Grace Dyer.
"NO!" she cries, falling back.
"Grace!" Julian calls, rushing forward to catch her.
Dropping his pistol to the floor, David panics and sprints away.
Ignoring him, Julian clutches Grace, slowly laying her towards the floor.
"I am so terribly sorry..."
"As am I," she replies, voice hoarse and weak.
"I shall call a physicist," Julian says, moving to stand.
Grace stops him, gripping his coat to keep him there. ”I do not think a physician will get here in time."
At her words, Julian kneels down beside her. ”You saved me... I should have seen it from the beginning. You really did love me."
Grace chuckles slightly at that, but the pain it causes forces her to stop. ”No, you fool scholar. I never had the opportunity to love you."
"But then why-?"
"I did not do this out of love, I did this out of duty," she explains, interrupting him. ”I came here because it is expected of me. I saved you because that was my place, and because I am unquestionably a better lady than any you have chosen to entertain."
"I was never in control of my life; I was someone else’s daughter and meant to be someone else’s wife. I did the things that were laid out for me because they were the only things I was allowed to do- but my heart... My heart belongs to me."
"No one can make me love- that is for me. That is the choice I am afforded, so I will be judicious with it. I do not love you, Julian Cromwell. I do not love you, and you can never make this right, but there is something you can do."
Julian, with a wetness to his eyes, looks deep into her eyes. ”Anything. I will do anything."
"Tell my mother I loved her... I truly loved her."
"I will," he affirms, allowing her body to go slack.
Then the overhead lights dim.
“Alright, that’s a wrap,” Coral announces, coming out from backstage. “Mark; Vince, you two go over your lines for the next scene on your own. There isn’t much blocking, so that should be enough.”
Julian Cromwell, or Vince, makes his way off stage with Stuart Dyer, or Mark, while the rest of the crew resets the stage.
After nearly a month of rehearsal, only a single day stood between Stage Fright and their opening night.
Despite how late the play was- 7:30 PM- it was decided that no rehearsal would take place directly before it.
“Alright, all of you,” Coral says, getting everyone’s attention.
Nine faces turn towards her, each waiting for one specific phrase.
“You’re free to go.”
Cheers erupt from them as they disperse, leaving Coral with just her brother.
“You’re not going with Mark?” she asks, placing the light blue nightgown- her only costume piece- back onto the rack.
“Nah,” he responds, slumping onto the couch used for the Cromwell scenes. “He and Vince have football practice in an hour and I wouldn’t have a ride home.”
Coral laughs slightly at that, tossing her backpack onto him.
“Come on, Trevor. If you want a ride, bring that with you.”
With a sigh, Trevor stands up. After a moment to remove his own costume- a Victorian era coat, a bowler hat, and a crimson cravat- he grabs the bag.
“To tomorrow.”
