Signs Of Love–A Short Story (or something)

This happened to me last night. It’s a true story.

It was completely pitch black, save for the lone spotlight illuminating the stage. I chose a seat on the far end of the theater. I had hoped that picking the worst seat in the house would obscure my view of the play. After all, it was a play I’ve seen countless times before.

Everyone in the theater–every actor, every stagehand, every person sitting in the audience–was someone I knew. They would probably understand why I wasn’t interested.

But even in the complete darkness of the theater, I could clearly see the look on everyone’s faces. It’s as if they were impatiently waiting for something to happen. And for some reason, they were all looking at me.

“Dude, they’re waiting for you to get up onstage,” the girl next to me said. It was a girl I haven’t seen in ten years.

“You’re the famous award-winning songstress here, not me!” I replied. “Shouldn’t you be the one going up onstage?”

“They’re looking for a male lead,” she pointed out.

“Uh, no they aren’t.” Each of the actresses already had their very own male lead.

“Or maybe you just need a leading lady.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to go up there.”

I knew that the audience enjoyed seeing me squirm onstage. Every time I watch Top Chef or any of those game shows with that jerk Willie Revillame, I always inadvertently imagine myself in the place of those poor contestants. And every time I get up onstage–on that specific stage, no less–I feel like I’m being grilled awkwardly by those game show hosts. Except now, I had a bunch of sadists watching me perform live. And these were all people I knew, no less.

“Well, do you want me to go with you?”

I looked up at her. I was stunned, of course. It was what I always wanted to hear, but not what I expected from someone I hadn’t seen in ten years. “Seriously? Are you kidding? Well, I–okay, sure. All right. Yeah, fine. I’d like that. I’d love it. I want you to be my leading lady.”

She smiled at me, and held my hand. We walked towards the stage, and everyone cheered.

And then I woke up.

I cursed myself for having such a sappy dream, and wrote about it on my blog to get it out of my system.

(But I secretly enjoyed it.)

Advertisement