The First Musical: Chapter Six: Johnathan, Part 1

I should have tucked her hair behind her ear, or touched her hand, or kissed her. I should have held her close, or said something more than gorgeous. I should have done any number of things, but I hadn’t.

I sat in the practice room for a good hour or so before I finally stopped kicking myself long enough to head to my apartment. There, the kicking recommenced, but less cruelly. My mind was dazed with thoughts of her; my ears were filled with the sound of her voice. If I closed my eyes, I could see her, and when I reached out, she didn’t run away. I imagined what her skin felt like, or her chocolate hair, or her lips against mine.

Between my imaginings, I scolded myself. Someone had hurt her, and I wouldn’t prove I wasn’t the same by trying to romance her. But was it so wrong to think, for a moment, she had the same thoughts running through her mind?

“Bastard!” Carmen screeched, her hand flying across my vision and stinging my cheek in the process. I hadn’t expected the violence, but her reaction was expected.

Tact had never been a strong suit of mine. So when I had told her she couldn’t have the lead, that she wasn’t talented enough for it, I had anticipated anger and resentment.

“I don’t have the talent for it?” Her voice grated, hurting my ears and seeming to hit just the right nerve to set a headache blooming. “But you give it to Gisele? Who doesn’t even perform? Asshole!”

“You have the second best role,” I said, expecting another slap across the face. She didn’t disappoint. This time, the promise ring on her hand left a small scratch across my cheek.

“I want the lead,” she hissed before storming off.

“But I can’t give you that.”

“Sucks for you,” she snapped over her shoulder.

“Can you at least not take it out on Gisele?”

Carmen turned on her heel and marched up to me, granting me a third smack. “I’ll do whatever the hell I want to.”

Then she was gone. I ran my hand through my hair, reminded how much I despised girls like her. They were too hotheaded. It made me really grateful she hadn’t been the one. Gisele’s anger I could handle, because it could be broken down and worn away. She didn’t harbor it because her energy was better spent elsewhere. Carmen’s fury wasn’t so simple. Hers had to be cooled off over time, and even then there was no guarantee she wouldn’t hold a grudge.

I caught sight of Gisele exiting a building across the way. I didn’t go to her, but was surprised to see her head wasn’t bowed today. In the past week, some of her confidence had returned. It was a small victory, but there was still a long way to go yet.

Baron didn’t join her, as I watched. He waved as they passed, but didn’t stop to chat at all. Either Carmen had guilted him into not talking with her, or perhaps it was something I didn’t understand. Maybe he thought she had persuaded me to give her the lead. If he really did know her, though, shouldn’t he have known that was unlike her?