Logs:Humbling

Humbling
Dramatis Personae Lucien, Melinda
In Absentia	2021-10-10 "Is there a dark side to the acclaim I haven't seen yet?"
Location Practice Studios R Us - Theater District - Midtown - NYC
The room is unremarkable, given that there are likely hundreds if not thousands just like it all over Manhattan. The floors are a light colored wood, the walls, barely off white color. One wall has floor to ceiling windows that allows plenty of natural light in, when there is light, and draped with thin, gauzy curtains to obscure specific details from prying eyes outside. Two walls are lined with mirrors, small hooks in between the plates of glass that allow for the stowed barres to be attached when needed, and a set of metal double doors, painted that same not quite white color, adorn the remaining wall. Near the ceiling, acoustic panels mellow the harsh sounds and unruly echoes, giving the room more utility to musical theater customers. The blank wall generally has personal items scattered across the reaches of its baseboards with the requested number of folding chairs for directors, instructors, and observers use. It has been a LONG day. Melinda Chylds started out with the costume department, measuring her and pinning her into different pieces as they got an idea of what work they needed to do, then bounced to her first dance rehearsal, where she worked with a pair of choreographers and their assistants to learn the more physical parts of her new role as quickly as possible before they could even consider slipping her into the mass of actors who already had the steps down by heart. After that, a quick lunch -- who is she kidding -- she only had time to grab a few powerbars and bottles of water before she was walked through all of the maps the lighting department had for her scenes. She memorized the basic blocking so she had a general area to stand while delivering lines she barely had memorized (but they were memorized!), scribbling notes in her script and on the stage map that corresponded to each other. Then it was back to dance practice, drilled over and over on the moves she learned that morning. Someone else's PA was kind enough to give her a room temperature BLT for an early dinner, the potato chips helping her electrolyte balance while the basic chocolate chip cookie gave her life. After all of that, members of the cast started filtering in on their off time to run scenes and a few of the actual dances while the choreographers looked on and corrected her movements. The light at the end of the tunnel - the second wind she needed - came in the form of a familiar face, Lucien Tessier, the star of Captain America: the Musical! Melinda only had time for a few quick words in the beginning before their work started, but she reveled in the comfortable presence of her friend. They worked with the larger cast scenes first, allowing most actors to leave early when they were done, then focused on Steve and Peggy scenes to wrap up. The director and choreographers signed off on a successful practice with a bucket load of notes before releasing her into the night. Even as the doors clang closed following the last PA's departure, Melinda turns to Lucien and sticks her arms low, fingers splayed stiffly as she makes an excited noise in the back of her throat, staring at him in exhausted glee. "LUCI!" she states loudly, vibrating in place, her body catching up with the displaced greetings it wanted to give hours ago. "It's so good to see you! Holy shit, I'm exhausted. How have you been?" Sure, they had been in each other's arms several times during rehearsals, but when it came to Melinda greeting Lucien -- instead of Steve and Peggy -- she fell back into the habit of looking to him for permission before engaging with any physical contact. "I've missed you! Can you believe it? We're finally working together! AH! It's so exciting and not at the same time because Yay! Working together, but yay" her voice settles into a less exuberant, but warmer, friendlier tone, "It's you!" It has been a long day for Lucien as well; a morning performance on The View, an afternoon matinee, and now back to rehearsal. Perhaps it's this that accounts for his exceptional pallor or the additional drag in his steps, the slight delay in the smile that answers Mel's. For any hesitation it's warm all the same, clear enough in his (blue!) eyes even if habitually only small on his lips. "Delighted," he replies, soft and reserved over a loooong pull of water, "to have you here now and not my previous --" His lips compress, thin and tight. "Counterpart." When he drinks water, Mel is instantly reminded that she has been sweating all day (well, off and on) and definitely needs to be drinking more water to compensate. She snags her bottle from her pile of belongings. "Oh, was she dreadful? I think I heard somewhere that she was a fan of the presidential cheeto, but I tend to avoid actual politics in theater in case I do have to work with someone." She sips water a little bit at a time, clearing some of the dryness from her lips. "Did she bring that up constantly?" "She --" Lucien's fingers drum a quick beat against the side of his water bottle. "Very conspicuously insisted nobody talk about politics if anyone mentioned anything from a nice date they had to a fundraiser they attended. I think she is a big fan of Captain America in theory but I do not think she would have much love for Steve and certainly had very little for me. Trust me," he assures Mel, "we are trading up in more than just the talent department." "Wow. That's a special kind of nonsense. How dare anyone have a private life that might lead to a politically charged conversation?" Mel shakes her head and takes another sip, her expression softening as she lets Luci's praise sink in. "Enough about her. Thank you. I am so nervous to be jumping in and impressing the rest of the cast and crew with my ability to catch up to them -- when I'm very sure I'm going to fall on my face a few times." she leans over and grabs a small towel to dry her neck under her ponytail. "And there's no need to reassure me. I know I should be fine - but nerves are going to act up whether I want them to or not. How are you doing?" "I don't know how to tell you this," Lucien says solemnly to Mel, "but some people are gay." He pours a bit of water on a towel of his own, absently wiping his face clean. "I won't reassure you, then. I'll just quietly know deep in my own heart that you will be excellent. I also know how many times the rest of us have fallen flat on our faces so we have no stones to throw at anyone else." A small tug pulls his mouth upward at the question, only the briefest suggestion of a smile before it fades away again. "Oh, goodness. I certainly ought not have any cause to complain." His eyes dip towards the floor as he lowers his towel. "I never dreamed we would meet with such acclaim." Melinda's hand darts up to her neck, clutching her nonexistent pearls at the mere suggestion of homosexuals. She listens in companionable silence as he reassures her in a more indirect fashion, fingers working to loose her hair from up top to air out her scalp, rewrapping it in a loose bun afterwards. "That's an interesting response. A Broadway star humbled" her voice pauses, as if questioning the word choice, "by success? Or is there a dark side to the acclaim I haven't seen yet?" "Growing up, I didn't have much call to think the Tonys and Netflix series were in my future. There is good cause for it to be --" Lucien skips only a fraction of a beat, here, through another sip of water, a slight roll of his shoulder in not-quite a shrug. "Humbling. Is this," he wonders, suddenly looking at Mel with an acute interest, "what you always wanted? I suppose it did bring you here from Ohio -- but it does so many people. Did you think it would work?" "I don't know if I ever thought a Tony would be in my future either. I kind of still don't. I mean, I comprehend the show is doing well and it's exciting, but hasn't solidified yet. And since I haven't contributed yet, I feel more like I"m standing on the shoulders of others' accomplishments." Mel doesn't hold Luci's gaze for long, slipping more into a contemplative, unfocused expression as she digs through the thoughts in her head. "But being here. Working here. Being a part of something -- that was always the goal. Awards? Netflix? Wait... Netflix?? You've been approached by Netflix?" Her body shifts to face him head on. "It's early yet," Lucien demurs with a small shake of his head. "Perhaps nothing will come of those talks." He takes another mouthful of water. Recaps his bottle, starting to gather his things together. "Well. Expected or unexpected, I am glad to be on this journey with you. -- I will be gladder still when we are a bit less sticky. Do you have time for supper, after I grab a shower?" "Well, still. That's a lot." Mel shakes her head, moving to grab her things after Luci does. "Wow. Netflix." She speaks to her bag and takes a look at her cell for the first time in hours. "Oh, well, I do have time, but let's be honest. For you? I'd make time."