I hadn't realized anyone was still reading this. Haha, thanks for the review! Voila.

Chapter Six: Stage Doll

"You don't really want to be a business major, do you?" Nick looked over his news paper at me the next morning as we sat eating muffins for breakfast. He'd been gracious enough to wake me before going to the Dunkin Doughnuts across the street so as to pick up what I wanted: a chocolate chip muffin. He'd said he wanted to make sure I had breakfast for a while when he came home bearing a whole dozen of them. I definitely loved this man.

"Well…I guess not." I admitted after swallowing a bit of muffin. "I mean I just need something to do while I'm there and trying to figure out what it is that I really want to do."

He sighed and folded up his news paper, "Kody, you shouldn't go to college until you have a clear cut idea of what you want to major in. You're just wasting time and money."

I looked at him, rather lost. I had been training to go to college my whole life, how could he speak like this? It was crazy-talk. It was blasphemy. If I wasn't in school, where was my footing? What was I doing? The answer to that question scared me to bits and pieces. I'd be doing life in the real world. The grown up world you see on tv.

'They can't do this to a person!' I thought, 'They can't hand you a stupid piece of paper and shove you out into the real world!' So, naturally, I protested.

I thought, So, naturally, I protested.

"I dunno, I mean I worked pretty hard towards college."

"I know, but trust me. I've been down that road. What you need is some hands on experience in the real world."

"Nick…" I said warily, "Just because it worked out for you doesn't mean it will for me, you have to understand things were different for you."

"Just trust me." he chuckled. "Is there anything you're really into?"

Feeling rather pathetic I shrugged. Nick had talent and passion with photography, I had neither with anything. My passion was sleeping in late on Sundays and my talents consisted of little more than getting good grades and growing jealous with record ease.

"Not really." I replied.

"What about…theatre?"

"I can't act." I sighed, crossing my arms and sitting back in my chair. If his plan was going down a list of artistic possibilities then I figured we had a long way to go.

"Who says you have to act? Look, there's this theatre downtown called the Phoenix Playhouse. I know the house manager and she's always looking for someone to help with sets and lighting, music and strikes, all that good stuff."

"Strikes?"

"Taking down the set after a show." he explained quickly, "Let me see if I can get you a position at the Phoenix. It'd be small and probably wouldn't pay much but it's perfect for your first job. Besides you'd meet a lot of great people, it'd give you a chance to make some friends in this city."

"Well, what about the money? I mean shouldn't I help out with rent and stuff"-

"Are you joking? Kody, I don't want a flat mate. I certainly don't need one. Just give me some good company, that's all I want from you."

I nodded reluctantly, grateful we'd given that subject at least a touch of discussion since the issue of rent had been bothering me for some time.

"Alright." I sighed, "Let's go check out this theatre."

Nick shot a grin my way, "You won't be disappointed, I promise you'll love it."

I really wanted him to be right.

---

After showering and dressing we drove across town only to pull into the back parking lot of a building that resembled an old, run down and closed version of Radio City Music Hall. I took in the large scale of the building as Nick led me through a side door. The hallway we traveled through wasn't lit well and I was scared for tripping because I could feel numerous wires and cords under every foot step we made. Finally the tight space opened up into a fluorescent corridor lined with props, mannequins, a ladder or two, tools and a few more wires. We walked down this corridor for quite some time, the void of silence not matching the odd way everything was strewn and left lying about.

As we neared a door to what looked like a janitor's closet Nick turned and silently laid a finger on his lips as way of telling me to keep quiet. I nodded and followed him through the door as a vast space emerged before us like a glass sphere being blown as the door allowed more and more of it to be seen. The ceiling was an array of gold border painted over with a tender image of heavenly clouds and cherubs. A choppy sea of red seats sprawled out from the stage, which rose above us like an altar doused in heavenly beams better known as stage lights. Well costumed characters read lines from thick scripts and tried to commit animation to the words they were reciting.

"More energy does not mean have an aneurism on stage Thomas!" a middle-aged female voice called at the stage, it's owner standing off from the stage a bit and surrounded by a few other costumed characters and one girl with a clipboard. Seeing us out of the corner of her eye, the woman turned and greeted us with a large grin. She was dressed in khaki pants and yellow t-shirt that advertised some Broadway show I'd never heard of. Her hair was a mess of light brown curls that were spiraling into gray. Her skin was pale, almost pinkish and lightly winkled. She struck me as a nice, straightforward woman who worked hard and hailed from a humble lifestyle.

"Nick! Everybody take five, keep rehearsing your lines! We open in two weeks people." Dismissing her troupe, the woman threw her arms around my cousin in such a way that it was blatantly clear how much she had missed him. I couldn't help but wonder how they knew one another; had Nick worked here at one time?

"Couldn't resist the theatre, huh? I knew you'd be back someday. With your passion, shoot, I'm surprised it took you this long!"

Nick chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck, "Thanks Amy, but actually, I've come with a recruit." I took that as my cue to step forward, "This is Kody, she's fresh out of high school and looking for work."

Amy sized me up and tilted her head, mulling over the looks of me and what little information Nick had provided her.

"You much of a theatre person?"

"Not really, I've never actually done anything in a the"-

"She's lost Ames," Nick jumped in for me, "Her parents were kinda overbearing on the school work front. She never got a chance to get in touch with her artsy side, I'm just trying to give her some exposure to the arts. Give her a chance to discover her forté."

"You mean she's not passionate about anything?" Amy looked back at me, then held out her hand for me to shake, "Honey, you have my assistance and my sympathy. We'll find out what you're good at, no doubt about that. And just between you and me, you got the best man possible if you're aimin' to foster creativity." she rattled off, a southern accent glaring through her speech the more excited she got.

I was given a tour of the theatre, it's backstage area and the technical studio in the back. After that Amy told me they were desperate for stage crew and understudies and if I could handle both I'd be paid for my trouble. And there it was, suddenly I was juggling tech work along with being the understudy for the part of the maid.

The play was called A Doll's House and I was suddenly feeling very much in over my head. I had never acted in my life, how could I memorize anything and be expected to perform in front of a packed theatre in two weeks? Like I mentioned earlier, I was no stage doll.

Nick assured me, if I really gave practicing my all, that he would help me get acclimated to the stage and to acting itself.

"It's not the lines that are hard, it's getting into character and staying there. I know it's called acting, but you're not supposed to act like your character, you're supposed to become her."

I stared at him in amazement as we drove back to the apartment. "When did I miss the part where you were in theatre?" I asked.

He smiled, "I've sort of always been into theatre. It's always been an on-the-side thing and when I first moved to Chicago I wasn't working as important of a job as I am now. I wasn't half as busy. So, naturally, I looked into the theatre scene. I only worked at The Phoenix Playhouse for one season, but the actors all sort of grow into a family. It sounds cliché, but it's true. You just wait and see, theatre is the fastest way to make friends…besides being a politician, but let's not get into that."

Yah, so I won't lie. That made me laugh.

"So, it's still pretty early in the day and I'm yours 'till tomorrow. Is there anything you want to do before we go back to the apartment?" Nick turned to me.

"Oh gosh, I dunno. I don't know anything about Chicago. My world here begins and ends in your studio." I smiled, realizing this only as I said it.

"Aw, Kody, that's pitiful." he chuckled, "You sound like you're trapped in a snow globe."

"I'm trapped in your snow globe. There's a difference. I'd love being trapped with you anywhere." We both shared a laugh at the way that sounded, "That came out wrong." I blushed, sinking a little lower into my seat.

Nick reached over and took my hand from my lap, lacing it with his. "No, it didn't." he assured me sweetly.

By the time we got back to the apartment a steady rain had set in and we had to run inside, laughing a little as we slipped on the stairs. Nick unlocked his apartment door and immediately set to making tea for the both of us, letting me change first. I wondered if he knew I was a sucker for gentlemen.

Some flannel pj pants and a zip up hoodie later I meandered out into the living room, crashing back on Nick's couch.

"Put down that remote." he called from the kitchen when he heard the sound of the television click on, "We have lines to rehearse."

Rolling my eyes I switched off his TV set and sat up, staring at him over the back of the couch.

"Niiick," I whined, "I'm just an understudy, can't I do this tomorrow?" The truth is, I was just scared to leap into this acting thing. I wanted to put it off for as long as possible. But somewhere, in the back of my head, I had a feeling Nick was going to make this painless for me.

"Nope, we have free time, we practice. That's the way it works. Now, I'm gunna go change while the kettle heats up. You get started reading over your part and getting a feel for your character. I'll be right back." Seeing my frown, he leaned down and kissed the top of my head before heading into his room and shutting the door. I sighed heavily and got up to retrieve my script from the kitchen counter. As I skimmed over the first page or two my resistance melted away and I suddenly found myself sucked into the story.

Nora Helmer was the name of the main character. She was the wife of a man named Torvald and the two seemed very much in love, despite having to struggle for money through out their marriage. Torvald had recently been promoted at work and the couple would be enjoying the best Christmas they'd ever had. Or at least, that's what they had hoped. Apparently Nora had taken out a loan from someone behind her husband's back and was still indebted to that person.

Her guilt was overwhelming her because she was so deeply in love with her husband and I had to admit I felt a deep sympathy for her situation. Nora loved her husband, she only wanted to make their marriage a happy one. For this she did not deserve persecution in my eyes, even if she was absurdly vain about her self-proclaimed good looks.

So engrossed in the script was I that I didn't even notice Nick come back through the bathroom door, go around the couch and fix our tea until he was sitting down beside me and setting my mug on the coffee table in front of us.

Looking up at him I nearly sighed. Beauty such as his was very difficult to grow used to.

"So, what do you think?" he asked, a hopeful smile tugging at his mouth.

I looked back at the script for a moment, trying to get a handle on my thoughts.

"It's interesting. Easy to follow, but easy to get lost in. I like it." I told him, glad to be able to offer positive feedback. Pleased with my attitude, his smile grew, seeping into his eyes.

"What's the title?" he asked, putting on a pair of copper-rimmed glasses and reaching for the script.

My eyebrows flew up, "You wear glasses?" The copper accented his dark blonde hair and light tan marvelously.

"Yah," he blushed the tiniest bit, his eyes staying down towards his script.

"I think they're hot." I told him plainly, hoping it would sound more like positive reinforcement than me coming on to him. No matter how cool I tried to play it, I could feel my cheeks begin to burn as soon as the words left my mouth.

Nick looked up at me and studied me carefully.

"They're hot, or they're hot on me?"

Damn it.

"On you." I fessed up, knowing there was no point in trying to hold back with this man.

But to my relief (as well as curiosity) my answer seamed to satisfy him and Nick began running lines with me. Naturally, the maid had trite lines such as introductions and apologies. Still, my heart pounded hard in my chest at the idea of doing this wrong, of embarrassing my impassionate self in front of someone so obviously talented. The man was even handling Nora's part with ease as he gave me lines to work off of.

"We're going to need to practice this standing." he observed after just two readings through. I immediately got to my feet and watched him expectantly. But he stayed anchored to his place on the couch. "Go to the door and walk towards the couch, then just pretend as though you're a housemaid. A woman submissive by force, timid because her job is forcing her to barge in on her employers while they share an embrace. Just put yourself in that situation. The rest should come naturally. I'll hold your script up for you so you can see the words, but for right now just work on your attitude for me, all right?"

Promptly, my nod came at once and I made haste towards the front door. I was so incredibly eager to please my cousin, to do well and earn my pat on the head- since that's all I would be getting tonight. I figured I should take what I could get. I waited, mentally attempting to thrust myself into someone else's shoes. I could understand her stress perfectly, remembering how hard it had been to appease my parents and my ex-boyfriend back home. How trapped they had made me feel. Subconsciously, I started wringing my hands. Then Nick began speaking, rushing through the stage directions and Nora's part.

"A bell rings, Nora speaks, and then her husband: If it is a caller, remember I am not at home." I could tell when he came to the real lines because of the change in his tone, the addition of a proper English accent.

With a quick, anxious pace I made my way to the couch, head down as I continued to wring my hands. I winced when I reached the couch, as though interrupting something I wished I didn't have to.

"A lady to see you, ma'am,--a stranger." I looked into Nick's eyes and the words simply flowed. There was a natural sounding feebleness to my voice, a softness and an apparent fear that I was going to be reprimanded.

Before any more lines could be said Nick had jumped from the couch, a fire alight in his eyes. He ripped his glasses from his face and flung his arms out wide as he stood facing me.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, throwing his head back for a moment. He took a deep breath and chuckled heartily before rushing around the couch toward me. "Yes! Yes! That's it! You're acting!" I nearly thought he was going to start crying, such was the amount of emotion pouring from his being. I couldn't help laughing lightly myself, overcome with excitement at actually doing something right. At making someone happy for the first time in so, so long.

Nick turned back to the script and read, "Ask her to come in." His light, mildly high-pitched and bright tone reflected Nora's voice. I was astounded at how easily he flew between parts, how perfectly he could slip into character at the drop of a hat. He held the script out for me and I read, my tone not as worried as before, though I had to force my smile to fall.

"The doctor came at the same time, sir."

"Did he go straight into my room?"

"Yes, sir."

Nick beamed at me and set the script down on the small table under his window, the table we'd eaten breakfast at this morning. The memory of my chocolate chip muffins caused me to smile appreciatively to myself. The smile only grew in intensity when Nick closed the few steps between us, wrapping his strong arms around me in a hug.

"That was very good." he complimented me, and I could hear deep sincerity strung along in his voice. I could feel it in his arms too. Arms I wanted to build a castle in, and felt as though I could. Unfortunately, the time came when he had to pull away and eventually I had to let him go.

"So, what do you think?" he asked eagerly.

I thought for a moment, wanting only to give him the rawest, most honest of answers.

"I think I like this. It's odd though, I mean, I'm not used to being good at something so abstract. I'm not used to being guided by something other than books, or teachers. I don't even know what I'm being guided by." I confessed.

He offered me a crooked smile, "Yourself. Your intuition. You're a natural at this, I can't believe you've never tapped into that." he seemed breathless at his discovery and I was only too elated to be able to please him.

The best part was, I was happy too. I kind of liked this acting thing, but I couldn't be too sure. After all, what if it was just making Nick so happy that was making me feel euphoric? Or maybe the fact that things were working out and my parents' plans had nothing to do with it. I decided I needed more of a taste in the way of script reading.

"I want to try something." I warned him, not sure if he'd be willing to help me go much farther.

"Good." he smirked, "What's that?"

"I want to try reading Nora's part…with you." My heart was beating hard in my chest simply from saying the words. From hinting that I wanted to get that close to him.

"That's great!" he seemed even more elated now and jumped on my enthusiasm, picking the script back up and handing it to me. "Where would you like to start?" he asked, brightly.

I stared at him, trying to hold back my giddy laughter at his unexpected, but very welcome, enthusiasm. Picking up the script, I began to flip through it and my face grew more serious as I tried to decide where I wanted to start.

The first bits involved just Nora and her husband, however there was quite a lot of stage action going on. Someone was always touching, moving or eating things and our lack of props scared me. I sure as hell didn't want to try miming anything…

"Um,…" I stalled, still searching.

"Take your time." He said softly, his smile still eager, if a bit less overwhelming now. I returned his smile briefly before looking down, where my eyes snagged on a stage direction for Nora's husband.

Puts his arm round her waist.

My eyes flickered up to meet his brilliant blue ones for just a moment and my stomach flipped. This was ridiculous. Having him do this with me just for my own sick indulgence. Pathetic and despicable and almost conniving.

Of course, it was also irresistible. I loved Nick more than I would be able to choke out in words. I was clinging so tightly to him as a lifeline and to be honest, I was scared to death every moment that something would happen to make me lose him.

He'd meet a woman. He'd send me on my way, force me to build my own living the way that he had. He'd get sick of me the way everyone always eventually did. I was terrified that he would wake up any moment out of whatever daze that made it tolerable for him to stand my company. And so, I quickly realized, that this fear of the future meant that the only thing for me to do was to take advantage of the present.

"Um, this one." I leaned toward him and pointed down at the script to indicate where I wanted to begin. Nora and her husband were discussing Christmas gifts in the bit I'd indicated. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he nodded, skimming the text rapidly. I could see the stage that sprang to life in his head. The characters, costumes, lighting, stage set, all of it. I could see the scene playing out perfectly for him. The red seats in the theatre hall completely filled and everyone breathless in the dark as they watched him. I could see it in my head and suddenly I was desperate to experience it first hand. All those people, the heat from the stage lights, the adrenaline rush from so many eyes on you.

For a moment I had confused myself. Did I want to see Nick act or did I want to act for myself? But it didn't matter. He'd already plunged into the scene and if I wanted this to work I had to keep up.

"But now tell me, you extravagant little person, what would you like for yourself?" His voice was so beautifully rich, his English accent proper and delicate. The smile on his face was teasing, the look in his eyes deeply affectionate. I barely remembered to look down and read my lines. However, when I did, I was surprised to hear them come out with stunning clarity, boasting an English accent of their own that wasn't half bad.

"For myself? Oh, I am sure I don't want anything." I told him with wide, honest eyes and a slight shake of my head.

"Yes, but you must." He insisted gently, taking my hand in a natural manner and stroking his thumb over the top. "Tell me something reasonable that you would particularly like to have."

'You.' My thoughts ran away with me as I struggled to speak my lines.

"No, I really can't think of anything…" I hesitated, throwing the shyness of what I really wanted behind Nora's lines. "Unless…Torvald?" Dipping my head instinctually I looked up at him from under my lashes.

Catching me off guard, he swallowed. His eyes seemed to come back to reality, slipping out of character for sheer milliseconds before-

"Well?" He encouraged me, staying so perfectly convincing that I wondered if I'd imaged the few moments previous. As he said his line I glanced down at my own and was suddenly filled with equal parts excitement and dread.

Nora: playing with his coat buttons, and without raising her eyes to his.

My stage directions were clear and precise and I couldn't be more terrified. Somehow I kept my hands from shaking as I lifted them to his chest. The only thing there to separate our skin was his thin white t-shirt and so I settled for letting my cold fingertips rest just above his pectoral muscles as I stepped closer to him and set my script down on the table beside us. Tracing invisible patterns just below his collar bone, my voice nearly hitched in the middle of my lines when Nick brought one arm around my waist and lightly pressed his warm fingertips into the small of my back.

My head swam with confusion and I nearly jumped away from him to check the script. I was so sure he wasn't supposed to do that for another ten lines or so. Still, I forced my lines out as I struggled to stay in character.

"If you really want to give me something, you might--you might--" The words my mind was finishing that sentence with where so despicable that I couldn't even look up at him. Thank goodness that was in the stage directions anyway.

"Well? Out with it." he looked down with cool amusement, speaking the lines in a much nicer tone of voice than I had imagined when reading over them earlier. His eyes seemed to be piercing me in the throat like an arrow. My breathe felt stuck fast there and I struggled to stay in character. I was glad for Nora's hesitancy in this scene, for her nervousness.

"You might give me money, Torvald. Only just as much as you can afford; and then one of these days I will buy something with it." I spoke quickly as the stage directions instructed, glancing down at the table a little to make sure I'd gotten the words right. I had. The ease with which I was remembering them was stunning me. They stuck to my brain, almost like sticky notes.

"But, Nora."-

I cut him off as was my job.

"Oh, do! Dear Torvald, please, please do!" I begged him with both my voice as well as my eyes. "Then I will wrap it up in beautiful gilt paper and hang it on the Christmas Tree. Wouldn't that be fun?" My voice was too hopeful, disgustingly enthusiastic. I closed my eyes, staying exactly where I was as a frown crossed my face.

"Wait, wait." I shook my head back and forth a little. "I can do that better. Shall I do it again?"

That time the English accent tumbled out on its own accord and my eyes went wide with embarrassment.

"You should speak like that all the time." Nick mused with a warm smile, his fingertips gently roving up and down the curve of my spine, sucking the breath right out of my lungs.

"Wh-why?" I asked. Internally I rolled my eyes. How was it that I could get words out so well when I was pretending to be Nora, when I was "acting", but when I tried to speak for myself I made a pitiful debauchery of the English language?

Nick took his arms from around me and paced backwards a step. He picked up my script and handed it to me as he spoke.

"Well for one, it'll help you stay in character, help you get into Nora's head better. But…it's also pretty sexy."

Leaving me speechless, I was thankful when he kept talking.

"That's probably enough for right now. Do you want to take a break?"

"Yes and no…" I answered without thinking, shrugging my shoulders out of indifference as I took a seat at the table beside us.

"Shall I spell out our options?" He smirked, donning his own English accent once more

I smiled at his silliness, his playful ease.

"Sure." I nodded.

"Well, we could keep doing these lines. We could start them over and do them again. We could practice your actual lines, the ones of the maid. Or we could forget about acting entirely and do something else."

"What would we do?" I asked, interested in any adventure he could offer me.

"We could do anything you like…besides go tanning. This is Chicago after all."

I giggled under my breath and leaned onto the table, glancing out of his windows. It was still raining.

"How about we just stay in and talk? It's still pretty messy outside."

"Hmm, if we talk it might get a little messy in here as well." He warned me.

"I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty." I told him calmly as I remembered his story about Christine from the other night.

Giving me an interested smirk that told me I'd just gotten myself way in over my head, Nick stood up without a word and made his way into the kitchen. Turning slowly around in my chair, I watched him with an interested sort of fear as he rummaged through his cabinets and fridge.

"Are you…hungry?" I asked, hoping he was just making some popcorn or something. In my gut I knew it was much, much worse.

"I think the question here, Kody, is: Are you?" Throwing me a cocked eyebrow over his shoulder, he turned back around just before disappearing entirely. A frown cut down through my face and I stood, coming around the counter and into his small kitchen. My cousin was down on his haunches and carefully pulling porcelain bowls from the depths of his lower cabinets.

"I'm never hungry enough to do what I think you want do."

A soft chuckle left his mouth before he looked up at me, still carefully balanced on the balls of his feet a good two feet below me. For a second, I lost control of my thoughts and indulged myself in the idea of him on his knees….on the floor…in front of me…

'Fuck.'

I always had hated cooking.