#dont....

Rehearsal used to be a sacred block of time, meant for focus and contemplation. Now, it was little more than a farce. How was Jonah supposed to take this seriously? Hudson at center stage, Heidi in the audience, eyes flicking between the two of them, unsure of who he resented more – but now, Jonah couldn’t even do anything about the storm brewing in his chest. Teddy had made that abundantly clear.

They were rehearsing one of the Doctor’s only scenes with Macbeth – Act Five Scene Three – and Jonah felt his temper flaring as he stood behind Hudson, practically in shadow, eyes burning a hole into the back of the other’s head. There was no acting, when you had a part as small as this. There was just saying lines to prompt the lead – Hudson – forward. And Jonah fucking hated every second of it.

Before Hudson could finish his line, Jonah stepped forward, loud, bold, reclaiming the stage that he believed to be his, fixing his classmate with a cold, steely look. “Not so sick, my lord,” he said, full of a bravado he didn’t feel, voice hitting the back of the auditorium with ease.

A hand twisting in Hudson’s shirt as he got close, uncomfortably so, never wavering in the intensity of his gaze: “As she is troubled with thick coming fancies, That keep her from her rest.”

From the audience, Heidi cleared her throat. Jonah wasn’t exactly following the blocking that they’d been given, but he fixed Hudson with a challenging gaze, as if daring him to be the reason they went back to the beginning of the scene. This wasn’t cruelty, Jonah reasoned. This wasn’t that same meanness that had spurred on all those texts. This was just some friendly competition between two actors, jockeying for the spotlight.