to: @casillasdante​
where/when: outside of the nederlander / 10p
She’d been doing this long enough now but Alma still cringed any time she saw her own face on an enormous billboard, staring back at her. She was stood outside of the Nederlander theatre, sporting a gray sweater and dark jacket - the Manhattan air a little chillier that night. Her face had been puffy from not having slept the previous night and her hair had been in slight disarray after the show she’d just had - Judy Boone, the role of a mother she was frankly tired of playing.
It was dark out and around her had been a buzz of people, actors, fans of the show and even members of the orchestra conversing about who knew what and all Alma could do was stare blankly at her own face across West 41st. It was honestly the strangest sensation seeing yourself everywhere - haunted by your own face on buses, bus stops, billboards tacked against skyscrapers and she had this unrelenting desire to just rip them all down.
“Alma?” called the woman who played Mrs. Shears. “Did you wanna come with us? We’re going for drinks.”
Alma shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. It was always the same question and she always had the same answer. Truth was, as much as she enjoyed drinking, she really wasn’t very good with other people. And that was a funny thing to think then; considering the fact that when everyone began sauntering away, her eyes landed on someone she thought looked familiar. Her eyes narrowed and...she could’ve sworn she’s seen him before, there was something about his eyes she felt she couldn’t quite place until she took a step forward and; “Dante??”
Of all the people she could’ve met in New York, outside of the Nederlander, no less. “Dante? W-what are you doing here?? Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in -” she paused, “did you - did you come to see my show??”