Chapter 5: New Horizons
FULL TIME LEAD AND ENSEMBLE AUDITIONS: DECEMBER 18TH
Beth stares at the flier on the green room bulletin board for several minutes after she finishes her presets, her heart pounding. She’s been working for the Waterfront Hall Theatre for five years, and not once have they had full time lead auditions. Sub auditions, swing auditions, even full time ensemble, but never full time leads. She’s attended every audition in those five years, and despite getting through several callbacks, she remains in costuming as a dresser.
December eighteenth is over a month away. She has plenty of time to get a couple of contrasting songs together; maybe even to swing by a dance studio to brush up on her technique.
This could be her chance.
She’s still gaping at the audition notice when the green room door opens, and a familiar voice greets her.
“Hey, babe,” Josh says cheerfully, “how was—”
He stops short, and for a moment, Beth expects a knowing and teasing comment about her preoccupation with the flier. When he’s silent for several more seconds, though, she finally drags her eyes away from the audition notice to find him frowning at her.
“You smell different,” he finally says, after staring at her for what feels like another ten minutes, but can’t be longer than a few seconds.
Like that, Beth feels a horrible split between her rational brain— which would love to tell Josh to keep his nose to himself— and her designation, which instantly preens like a contented cat in the back of her mind. She knows exactly what he means; since she saw Sean, she hasn’t been able to get his scent off of her. Not that she’s done anything to even try— the thought of changing and washing her sheets put her halfway into a panic attack the day after he’d been there, and she spent the rest of the week avoiding laundry entirely.
“Thanks,” she chokes out, watching him toss his bag under the tech desk. “I changed my scent just for you.”
Josh hikes his brow up, clearly not as amused as she is by her sarcasm, and drops into the desk chair. “I’m just glad you finally got laid.” He gives her a blatant once over, probably looking for bite marks. He’s not going to find any. It’s been days— and she has a particular talent with concealer. “Are you less stressed out now?”
“Ha! No.” If anything, she’s more stressed, but that’s beside the point.
Josh laughs, but he doesn’t seem all that surprised. “I’m surprised getting some Alpha action didn’t mellow you out.”
Beth shoots him a glare. “You know, not all Omegas are instantly turned into silly putty just by getting some Alpha dick. No matter what our lizard hindbrains say.” With that, she settles onto the ancient leather couch and pulls out a sketchbook.
“Don’t I know it,” Josh laments. “Do I get to know who it was?”
“Absolutely not.” Not in a million years. Not on her dying breath. It’ll be bad enough when her performers get here. She’ll have to answer a million and a half interrogation questions anyway; she doesn’t need Josh feeding the rumor mill with a name.
“Fair enough,” Josh concedes, and falls silent.
It eats at her, though. Josh is a good friend, both at work and away from it. He’s a mousy sort of guy, beady eyes, glasses. Great hugs. Soft, but sturdy. The only male Omega Beth thinks she’s met. Except, in a rare trait they share, he’s as stubborn as she is. He may be letting her slide for now, but she’s sure she’ll get another round of twenty-questions soon enough.
Beth flips through her sketchbook and almost cringes at one of the first few pages, almost entirely clouded out with spirals and circles. All she can think of when she sees it is the day she met Sean. And the night a few weeks after, when they’d first hooked up. The memory alone sends a flash of warmth through her body, heat rising up her neck and into her cheeks.
It isn’t that she’s ashamed of having slept with Sean. Not at all. What she’s ashamed of is that she wants to do it again.
And again, and again, and—
When her phone buzzes in her pocket, Beth nearly leaps out of her seat. She frowns, pulling it out to see who would bother to text her while she’s at work.
It’s Sean.
Her heart starts to pound again.
[Sean: You free tonight?]
It’s a Sunday. Matinee show only. Which means, yes, she is free, except she really shouldn’t give into whatever he’s about to ask her. She needs to be way more responsible with herself, her time, and her body. She doesn’t have the time to stumble into some sort of friends-with-benefits arrangement.
She tells herself this, sternly insisting that she’s not going to cave.
[Beth: Yeah, why?]
She’s not going to cave. She’s not going to—
[Sean: Your place again?]
It was a good effort, she tells herself, as she types up and sends a yes. Her heart is practically ascending to a new physical plane in her chest, it’s beating so fast. She can barely believe she’s even doing this.
And, at the same time, she’s not even remotely surprised with herself. Stupid Omega hindbrain.
“So are you gonna audition for the show?”
Thank god for Josh, Beth thinks, latching onto the distraction. Anything not to think about what her night will now entail. She’s distracted enough without turning herself into a puddle of raging hormones— and at work, no less. “Of course I am. Don’t I always?”
“And you always get called back,” Josh agrees. “Maybe this time they’ll finally cast you, like you deserve.”
She gives him a grateful smile. “You’re biased.”
Josh barks a laugh. “Duh. That’s what friends are for: heavily biased support, and taco nights.”
“All hail taco nights,” Beth cheers.