Page 31 of Play Room Actor

“So what if I do? There’s something off about him. I saw it in his eyes. He …” I peered up at the ceiling and shook my head. “There’s something dark in him, something uncontrollable. He’s probably just trouble, and I’ve had enough of that these last few months.”

“From what you told me about last Friday, he seems like a nice young man.”

I glanced at Bachmann, feeling a surge of anger that surprised me. “Whose side are you on?”

Bachmann laughed again, then glanced at the clock. “I would have liked to talk to you longer, but it looks like we’ll have to continue our conversation next week.”

I stayed seated and watched him set his notepad aside as he got up from his chair.

“What?” I asked. “No advice like usual?”

“We’re sticking with the same one as last week. I want you to feel.”

“How’s that going to work without sex?”

“Well, my friend, that’s what we’re figuring out.”

I felt discouraged when I stepped out onto the street and buttoned my jacket—at least as far as Kilian was concerned. There was one thing I hadn’t told Dr. Bachmann. I liked having Kilian by my side.

When the lights changed during rehearsal or when I secretly watched him check the spotlights in the galleries, a slight tingling would erupt in my chest. Every time I saw him, I thought back to last Friday’s kiss and felt strangely aroused. But at the same time, it felt like someone was hitting me in the head with a baseball bat.

The kiss had been so erotic, and I could have kissed him in that alley for hours. Especially after he assured me he didn’t want to take me home right away. That took the pressure off, and I wanted more from him.

But when I felt his half-erect penis against my body, a dizziness hit me, spinning me around as if I’d been swept into a raging current. His hardness fueled my desire, but at the same time triggered all the negative emotions I’d been trying to process these past few months.

Yes, I could feel desire, but my cock stayed limp. Dead. Shame didn’t even come close to describing how I felt in that moment. And yet, I was so captivated by Kilian that I didn’t run away and let him escort me home.

Since then, he hadn’t made advances, even though I could see it in his dark gaze. I was sure that in his mind, he was tearing my clothes off.

When we talked, it was mostly about something related to the play. Nothing personal. Kilian kept things to himself, for which I was grateful, because even the stage manager Sebastian—who, I’d noticed, was close friends with Kilian—seemed completely unaware when he invited Vanja, Eliah, and me to his wedding party.

Today, we were rehearsing a scene from Act V. It was a dialogue between Hamlet and Horatio. Theo, the director, wasn’t exaggerating when he promised us a completely new Hamlet.

“Kil?” Theo said into the walkie-talkie. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go. Act V, Scene 1.”

Every time I heard Kilian’s voice through the radio, I looked up at the control room. Although I could only see a small part of his silhouette, just knowing he was up there did something to me.

I quickly focused on my role, took my position, and waited. The lights dimmed, then the spotlights flared up on stage, illuminating the fabric and wood panels that made up the set Sebastian and his team created.

Eliah and I ran through the scene, page by page. Scene by scene. Although I knew my lines, I was glad I still had the script in hand at that point. Eliah did the same.

Theo interrupted us repeatedly, suggesting ideas to try out. Sometimes he radioed to Kilian in the control room or spoke with the set designers.

I used these moments to mentally prepare for the one scene that gave me butterflies in my stomach: the moment when Hamlet and Horatio kissed.

Yes, Theo was serious about his reinterpretation.

So, what do I feel?, I remembered Dr. Bachmann’s words. Just feel.

Eliah and I had discussed how we wanted to approach the kiss. Theo had shared his ideas too, and we were ready.

When the moment came, I tried to focus on the kiss, on Eliah’s soft lips that barely touched mine—gentle like a breeze yet hot like the sun.

Eliah had a habit of constantly biting his lower lip. Was that why his lips felt so warm? Or was it because, as he’d told me, he’d never kissed a man before and was nervous?

“Imagine I’m a woman,” I’d told him.