Act Natural - Ch. 4 (5k words)

Author's Note:

Crappy Christmaswieners everyone! Thanks so much for your support. I really appreciate your kind (or critical!) comments, and of course your kind money.

Chapter 4: Meisner Technique

THOMAS

“Can we take a break? I feel kinda ridiculous,” said Grover.

“Dogs don’t talk,” I said. 

“Ugh,” he groaned. I raised my eyebrows and he sighed and corrected himself, “Woof woof.” 

I stifled a laugh and nodded approvingly. He made a very cute little puppy.

“Good,” I said, “Now keep moving around the space, just like a dog would.” 

Grover grumbled under his breath, but he put his head down and kept crawling around the rehearsal room floor, occasionally stopping to sniff something or stretch his back.

“Ooh,” I cooed, “Biiiiig stretch.”

Honestly, I was very impressed with Grover’s commitment over the past few lessons. I thought he was going to call it quits when I got him to wear a dress, but after one little hiccup, he had really surprised me. He kept showing up, and made a genuine effort with every exercise I threw at him, no matter how silly they might seem to someone uneducated in the theatrical arts. 

I was still annoyed at him for lying to me about why he wanted lessons. In retrospect, it should’ve been obvious that he didn’t actually care about doing justice to the role. Trying to impress a girl made way more sense. Especially a girl like Ruby. Now there was someone who didn’t need to be onstage to get attention. Although it did help that she was also an incredible actor. 

“Woof woof,” said Grover, “Ruff ruff arf.”

He sat up in a doggy pose and tilted his head at me questioningly. He was getting good at this. 

“Sorry,” I said, “I got lost in thought. Okay, let’s bring it down to… 30% dog.”

Grover sighed with relief and stood up, retaining a bit of the bouncy canine energy as he walked around the space. We were just wearing our regular clothes this time. I didn’t want to ruin Grover’s costume with all the crawling around. 

“Tommy, remind me again why I’m a dog,” he said, a trace of bark in his voice. 

“It wouldn’t be a theater class without animal work,” I smirked, “One time at theater camp, I had to be an owl for two full hours. By fully embodying an animal, you can use that energy to inform your character’s movement and body language.”

“But we already did a bunch of work on my movement and body language,” he growled, “I feel like I have a pretty good grip on it.”

“You do,” I admitted.

“And I don’t think Serena would even move like a dog,” he pointed out, “She’s more of a cat vibe.”

“That’s true.”

“So why are we doing this?” 

I shrugged, “I just thought it would be funny to make you crawl around like a dog.” 

Grover’s jaw dropped, “Thomas Macaday! Are you pranking me?”

I giggled, “What can I say? You’re a bad influence.”

Grover shook his head ruefully, straightening up as he returned to his default level of 0% dog. Okay, maybe more like 2% or 3% dog. 

“I guess we’re both teaching each other,” he said. 

We got started on the real exercises I had planned. Despite my betrayal, Grover was still willing to trust my advice. If anything, he actually seemed to respect me a little more. 

We kept up our private lessons for the rest of the semester, and Grover kept getting better and better. He was becoming a genuinely good actor. His line delivery evolved from over-the-top caricature, to earnest but stilted, to something much more naturalistic and emotional. I could tell he was practicing outside of our lessons, too. After a few weeks, he knew his lines by heart, and his feminine voice was developing nicely. Eventually I decided it was time to reintroduce costumes. 

“Hey!” Grover cheered, “Maude’s back!” 

I blushed. I really wasn’t a fan of method acting (at least, not the way that Hollywood actors used the term) but something about being called Maude while in costume was strangely appealing. I didn’t mind being Maude. She was a lot cooler than Thomas. Besides, it was a good reminder to keep practicing my voice and movements, so they would be second nature by the time of the show.

I had put a bit more effort into my costume today. It still wasn’t possible to put together something completely authentic, not for a student show with no budget, but I figured every little bit helped. I had accessorised my maid uniform with stockings and character shoes, and Ruby loaned me a petticoat she had worn for a high school production of Lolita: The Musical (Teen Edition). I had purchased more appropriate underwear, and blushingly suggested to Grover that he might want to do the same, to reduce the lines under his dress. I had spent more time on my hair and makeup as well, and the overall effect was… striking. 

“You’re such a babe,” Grover purred. He leant on my shoulder, checking me out in the mirror, “Maybe we need to rewrite the play. Why would Duncan settle for Serena when a hottie like Maude is right there?”

I shrugged him off with a glare, “Don’t be ridiculous. We will be performing the play exactly as written, thank you very much. You better not go rogue on opening night!”

Grover held up his hands, “Yes ma’am. Whatever you say, ma’am. I don’t wanna die getting choked out by a beautiful woman in a maid costume. Well, not today.”

I huffed and turned back to the mirror, struggling to hide the dumb little smile that kept trying to creep onto my lips. I was starting to understand why Ruby put up with Grover’s stupid flirting. Even though I knew he was just kidding around (when was he ever not?), his compliments made me feel all warm and fluttery in my tummy in a way that I didn’t totally hate. I really was quite pretty as Maude. Which was good. For the performance, I mean. 

“Meanwhile I look totally insane,” said Grover, tugging at his sleeves as he eyed himself in the mirror.

“Oh, hush,” I said, “You look fine. Besides, you haven’t even done your makeup yet.”

“True, that’ll help,” he nodded, “I’m thinking we go all white foundation… nice big smile… red nose that honks when you squeeze it…”

“Come on,” I grabbed his wrist and dragged him over to the vanity, “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

I had bought new makeup specifically for Grover, to match the warm tan of his skin. I talked him through my process as I applied foundation and concealer, then paused. 

“Hmm,” I mused.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was gonna add some blush,” I said, “But your cheeks are already pretty blushy.”

Grover’s cheeks went even blushier, “That’s not my fault! You keep, like, softly touching my face!”

“I mean, yes?” I said, “This doesn’t really work at a distance.”

“God, Maude,” he sighed, “Just.. just do the blush, okay? I’m just… it’s warm in here, is all.”

I frowned. It didn’t feel very warm to me. But then Grover’s dress covered a little more than mine. I shrugged and continued on with the makeup. He didn’t really need all that much. He had a round face, with cute chubby cheeks and a sweet little button nose, and it wasn’t hard to see the potential for beauty. I studied him carefully, trying to picture what Serena would wear. Based on Grover’s interpretation of her, she would go for something bold, to enhance her image and distract people from noticing the emptiness inside her. Yeah, I could make that work, with some dramatic darkness around her soulful brown eyes, and a deep red lipstick to match her dress. I worked away, watching Serena come to life before me. 

“There,” I said with satisfaction, “That’s better.” 

“Do you have the wig?” Grover asked, his voice shattering the illusion. “I probably look ridiculous right now.”

“I mean, not really,” I said. With the makeup and dress, plus the voice and movement I knew Grover had been practicing, I could tell everything was going to come together very nicely, even if he kept his short spiky hair. “You’re actually very pretty, in a butch way.”

“Excuse me?” Grover grinned.

“Oh, whatever,” I blushed, “You know what I mean. You’re the one who said Serena was a lesbian.”

“And you’re the one who said I was a pretty butch,” Grover laughed, “Well, well, well. Looks like Maude has a little crush.”

“Wishful thinking,” I huffed, “And yes, I have your stupid wig. Wait here.”

I fetched the wig and spent some time fixing and styling it on Grover’s head, making sure he knew how to achieve the same look on his own. I was not planning to be his personal hair and makeup artist for the actual show. I noticed Grover was getting blushy again as I leaned over him to fiddle with his hair. He also, strangely, kept looking at my chest. Ugh. If he was hoping for tips, he was out of luck. I drew the line at showing Grover Lee how to stuff his bra. 

“Alright,” I said, “I think that works.”

“I still think we should have gone with the clown nose,” Grover joked as he got up from his chair, “But I guess you’re the…”

His voice trailed off as he caught sight of himself in the mirror. 

“Oh, wow,” he murmured softly, “That’s… wow…”

“Remember, floating movements,” I said softly. 

Grover nodded mutely, and I watched with pride as I saw his back straighten, his shoulders soften as he rose into Serena’s elegant posture. He waved slowly, gracefully, watching his reflection do the same. 

I was pleased to see my prediction was correct. With the addition of the wig, Grover Lee the irritating college boy had all but disappeared, to be replaced by a refined, attractive young woman with rivers of silky black hair running down her shoulders. She twirled side to side, watching her red dress flare out as she turned. 

“I told you,” I said, “Very pretty. How’s your voice coming along?”

The young woman hesitated, “What should I say?”

“Try your first line from the play.”

She nodded and raised her chin, “With all the fuss those sailors make, you would… crap. You would think… crap!”

Her shoulders fell and her red lips began to tremble. 

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay!” I said quickly, “That was good!”

“No it’s not!” Grover said, back to his normal boy voice, “I sound stupid. I look stupid.”

“No, you don’t,” I said firmly, “You’re just in your head again.”

“Well, how am I meant to not be?” he pouted, “Boys dressing up as girls is supposed to be funny, Maude. But this…” he gestured at the mirror, “This isn’t funny, this is just… weird. It’s, I don’t know! It’s taking it too seriously!”

I shook my head. I kind of understood what he was saying. Part of me still felt awkward about wearing a dress, until I reminded myself it was just a character I was playing and it didn’t mean anything about me as a person. Maude was not Thomas. And Serena was not Grover. 

“Look at me,” I said. Grover shook his head, still in a panic. I took him gently by the shoulders and he stiffened, but then slowly raised his eyes to mine. He looked like he was on the verge of tears. I felt a pang in my stomach. It was very unsettling to see him so upset, instead of cracking his usual stupid jokes. 

“It’s going to be okay,” I said, “This is just a little stage fright, you know? It happens to everyone. But you don’t need to be self-conscious, okay? Don’t focus on how you feel. Just focus on me. Can you do that?”

Grover nodded shakily, and his breathing steadied as he gazed into my eyes. 

“That’s good,” I said softly, “Okay. Let’s try something. Do you have any training in Meisner Technique?”

Grover’s painted lips quirked into a smile. 

“Maude,” he said, “Come on.”

“I had to ask,” I smiled back, “Alright, so. Meisner Technique is a school of acting developed by Sanford Meisner, building on the teachings of Konstantin Stanslavsky.”

“Given circumstances,” Grover said.

“That’s right!” I beamed. Gosh, it was satisfying when he remembered stuff like that. “The main thing that distinguishes Meisner Technique from other acting styles is that it heavily prioritises focusing on your scene partner. For a Meisner actor, all your prepwork, all your lines and everything else, it should be tucked away in the back of your brain, not consciously being thought about. Your main focus should be on paying attention to the other characters, and reacting to their actions and emotions.”

“That sounds… complicated,” said Grover, “How do I learn to do that?”

“Three words,” I grinned, “Repetition, repetition, repetition.”

Repetition exercises were one of the most fundamental (and most notorious) parts of Meisner training. I talked Grover through the exercise I wanted to try, making sure he was turned away from the mirrored wall so he didn’t get self-conscious again. It was deceptively simple. Two actors would stand face to face, in a neutral position. They would gaze into each other’s eyes, and when one of them noticed something about the other, they would just say it out loud. The other actor would repeat it, and the first actor would repeat it again, and they would keep going back and forth like that until one of them noticed an emotional change in their partner, and said something about that instead. 

The exercise could seem kind of pointless (especially when your ninth grade drama teacher made you do it for forty minutes straight at the start of every lesson) but it was a great way to learn to pick up on your scene partner’s emotions. And, I hoped, it would help Grover get used to performing without fixating on his own voice and appearance. 

“I’m going to get you to try something a little advanced, okay?” I said, “I want you to try and hold on to that Serena voice and body language while we’re doing this. Stay as neutral as possible, but just… neutral for Serena. Can you do that?”

“I’ll try,” said Grover. 

“Great,” I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, then took up position facing him. I studied him carefully. He really did look pretty. He also looked extremely nervous, but neither of those seemed like they would be a particularly helpful starting point. 

I straightened my back, making sure to embody Maude in my posture. Grover followed suit, settling into a more Serena-esque stance. We locked eyes.

“You’re frowning,” I said.

“I’m frowning,” Grover repeated, attempting a feminine voice. It wasn’t bad. A bit low, and a bit husky, but definitely with a girlish resonance to it.

“You’re frowning.”

“I’m frowning.”

“You’re frowning.”

“I’m frowning.”

“You’re frowning.”

“I’m frowning,” Grover pouted.

“You’re pouting.”

“I’m pouting?” Grover said, looking scandalised. 

“You’re scandalised,” I giggled.

“I’m scandalised,” Grover said begrudgingly, “You’re giggling.”

“I’m giggling,” I admitted.

“You’re giggling.”

“I’m giggling.”

“You’re giggling.”

“I’m giggling. You’re smirking.”

“I’m smirking.”

“You’re smirking.”

“I’m smirking.”

“You’re cocky.”

Grover grinned, shrugging nonchalantly, “I’m cocky.”

I grinned back. There was definitely more Serena in his voice now, that haughty bravado he had been working on. 

“You’re cocky,” I said again.

“I’m cocky,” and that grin widened, becoming sly and wicked, and suddenly there she was. Serena. I felt my heart quicken as she looked over me with that mischievous smile. Her voice came out as a low, smooth purr, “You’re impressed.”

“I’m impressed,” I whispered.

“You’re impressed.”

“I’m impressed.”

“You’re impressed.”

The more she said it, the more I felt my heart pounding in my chest. Oh, gosh. What was going on? Usually Grover’s smug superiority just irritated me, but coming from Serena… it was intoxicating. 

“I’m.. I’m impressed,” I stammered. Oh no!

“You’re blushingggg,” Serena teased.

“I’m blushing,” I whimpered. She was right. I could feel my cheeks burning. 

“You’re blushing,” she purred. That did not help with the blushing thing. 

“I’m blushing.”

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m blushing. You’re amused,” I tossed it at her like an accusation.

Serena just grinned, “I am amused. You’re shy.”

“I’m shy,” I said quietly. 

“You’re shy!”

“I’m shy!”

“You’re oh so shy,” Serena smirked.

 I certainly felt that way. I could feel the heat rising through my body, staining my cheeks and chest with pink. Serena had been right before, actually. It was way too warm in this room. I tried to ignore my pounding heart, my trembling knees, and just focus on the exercise. But that didn’t help at all, because that just meant focusing on Serena, and with every repetition she just got more and more cocky and smug as she saw the effect she was having on me, and trying to avoid her eager, hungry eyes just meant looking at her glossy red lips, or her long silky hair, or the tight red velvet clinging to her chest, and it all just made me feel like I was about to melt into a hot little puddle. 

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered. 

I regretted the words as soon as I said them, and gritted my teeth, waiting for Serena to start cackling and making fun of me. But instead she just smiled, lifted an arm theatrically, and bowed in gracious acknowledgement.

“I’m beautiful,” she agreed. 

From then on, Serena was pretty much insufferable. And, no, I was not going to call her Grover, not when she kept acting like that. She became more and more confident in her voice and movement, and eagerly picked up the skills to do her own hair and makeup. She also, evidently, figured the bra thing out on her own. We started wearing our costumes every lesson. It wasn’t typical for rehearsals, but Serena insisted she needed as much practice as possible, just in case her self-consciousness came back. That didn’t seem likely, though. As the weeks went by, I didn’t see her have a single freak out in the mirror, although I caught her admiring her reflection many times. 

I really couldn’t blame her. Not when she was that gorgeous. I tried to hide it as best I could, and I was pretty sure Serena didn’t realise it, but something broke in me during that Meisner exercise. I didn’t want to admit it, but when I woke up the next morning and realised I had dreamed of Serena all night long, I had to face facts. Serena was extremely attractive, and witty, and when she listened to my lessons, so attentively, like I was the most important person in the world, it made my heart race. 

I had a crush. 

Not on Grover, obviously. I didn’t like men, of that I was certain. This was just a silly, meaningless crush on his seductive, smoky-voiced female character. Grover himself continued to bug the heck out of me. He still dressed like a guy for our Theater 107 classes, and he still made a whole bunch of irritating little quips all the time. Admittedly, he was much better at knuckling down and doing the work when it came time to rehearse. Obviously impressing Ruby was still priority number one. 

It was really starting to annoy me, the way Grover kept flirting with Ruby. I mean, it had always been annoying, the way everything about him was annoying, but now it was much worse. When I saw him talking to her, consoling her after an unsuccessful audition or hyping her up for her next one, I felt a sick heavy jealousy in my stomach. It made sense, obviously. Ruby was my go-to scene partner, my one kindred spirit in this class. I didn’t want Grover stealing her away. That was why I felt so protective. 

I had my own issues to worry about, though. While Grover’s acting was improving in leaps and bounds, I still had no idea how to implement Professor Lennox’s feedback into my own performance. She had told me I needed to bring something unique into my performance as Maude, to show her “the real Thomas Macaday”. But I couldn’t think of anything about me that seemed worth showing off. If anything, the more time I spent as Maude, the more I wished I could bring some of her into my real life. I liked being Maude, liked getting to be brash and flirty instead of withdrawn and anxious. I liked feeling pretty, too. And Serena was good at making me feel that way. 

“Okay, gorgeous girl,” she purred, “How do I look?”

She primped and preened, smiling up at me from her seat at the vanity. 

I blushed, “You look good, Serena. You always look good.”

“Thank you, darling,” she cooed, “I had a great teacher, you know.”

I smiled, “Thanks.”

“Her name was Professor Euclidia Lennox,” Serena finished airily, “And she was completely insane. There was also a cute little maid who helped out a bit, I suppose.”

I pouted at her and she cackled as she hopped to her feet, smoothing her dress as she stood. 

“I’m just kidding, Maude,” she said, “You’ll always be my number one teacher when it comes to girl stuff. You and the Seattle Voice Lab tiktok account.”

“I’ll treasure that compliment,” I said drily.

Serena giggled, “I like when you make jokes, Maude. You didn’t used to do that.”

“You corrupted me,” I sighed, “Okay, seeing as opening night is tomorrow, I was thinking we would just do a couple run-throughs–”

“Actually,” Serena interrupted, a trace of nervousness in her voice, “There was one scene in particular I’m a little worried about.”

“Oh,” I said, “The confession scene?”

“The confession scene,” Serena confessed. 

The scene where Serena confessed her love to Duncan had been a major sticking point throughout our lessons. It had come up a few times in rehearsal, too. It was a major scene, arguably the pivotal scene of the play, and the climactic moment was when Serena confessed her love to Duncan and the two of them passionately kissed. 

Grover had added an extra layer to the scene, with his assertion that Serena was actually a repressed lesbian, and her confession was rooted in denial, just another reckless decision that she was throwing herself into to avoid facing her real feelings. It still worked (in fact, I had come to believe it made her arc a whole lot more interesting) but it definitely made the moment more complicated. 

“I think I have the monologue pretty good. But…” Serena blushed, “I’m worried about the kiss.”

I nodded solemnly. I was worried about the kiss too. I had actually been thinking about it a lot, every time I saw Ruby and Grover flirting in class, and it always made me feel a heavy sense of dread. Because I knew it was a big moment, and it was important for them to get it right. 

“Ruby said she was okay if I actually kissed her onstage,” said Serena, turning a little redder as she said it, “But I’ve never kissed anyone onstage. And I’ve never kissed anyone, y’know,” she gestured at herself, “As a girl. I’m really worried it’ll be awkward. I don’t want to ruin the moment.”

Despite the seriousness in her voice, I found myself smiling. I liked that she was taking this seriously. I liked that she didn’t want to ruin the moment. Heck, I just liked Serena. 

Ugh. It would be a relief when this play was over and I could put all this confusion aside. 

“It probably will be awkward,” I said, “It’s hard to make a moment feel natural if you’re doing something you’ve never done before. So…”

“So I just need to practice it!” Serena said eagerly, “Yes, that totally works.” 

“Perfect!” I said, “So we’ll just run through the confession scene, and any moment that doesn’t feel real, we’ll skip back to the previous line and repeat it.”

This was an exercise we had done a few times before, and was basically an advanced variation on the Meisner repetition exercise. The idea was similar, all about getting in tune with your scene partner and out of your own head. But instead of repeating observations about each other, we would just repeat the line until we could feel the emotion shine through. 

We started running through the scene, with Serena playing herself (you know what I mean) and me standing in for Duncan. I definitely wasn’t looking very Duncany, but I took off my maid’s cap and apron, so I was at least in a neutral black dress instead of a full uniform. It was gonna have to do. No way was I taking all my makeup off. 

We bounced back and forth, rising in intensity, until Serena reached the end of her monologue. 

“...perhaps we shall clash,” she finished, “Like the mighty waves where two oceans touch. But I know that I love you. That is enough.”

It was a fantastic performance, brimming with desperation, longing, and an undercurrent of self-denial that would be noticeable to anyone who had picked up the subtext. To anyone who hadn’t, it would still look like Serena was emotionally confessing her love, although they might subconsciously notice the (intentionally) hollow feeling. 

I took a step toward Serena, and she took a shaky breath and approached me.

“Again,” I said. 

Serena blushed but nodded, acknowledging how hesitant her approach had been. 

“I know that I love you. That is enough,” she said, and stepped towards me more decisively. I wrapped my arms around her waist and she shivered, then frowned, annoyed at her own reaction.  

“Again,” she said.

I released her and she tried a third time, her voice still brimming with passion. 

“That is enough,” she said, and she rushed to me, and this time, with no hesitation, she brought her lips to mine. 

I froze. 

Serena’s lips felt so soft, plush and sweet and full, and I could feel the glossy texture of her red lipstick against my own pink lips. My hands fumbled desperately at her waist, not able to find a place to rest. 

Serena pulled back, and I was relieved to see that she was blushing furiously. Clearly her first stage kiss felt as awkward to her as it did to me.

“Again?” I offered, and she nodded. 

She didn’t say the line this time, just stepped back, nodded to herself, and then locked eyes with me and rushed to me again, once again pressing her sweet lips against my own. My heart fluttered, but this time my arms wrapped tight around her waist. She placed her hands against my chest, then my shoulders, then broke the kiss and sighed with frustration. 

“Again,” she said firmly. 

The next kiss, we were misaligned, and her lips landed wild against my cheeks. The kiss after that, she came in too fast, and nearly knocked me over. We kissed again and again, and each time my heart raced in my chest, and my head felt light and giddy. I tried desperately to keep my composure. We were just acting, for goodness' sake. This was just Grover…

“Again,” Serena whispered, and then strode towards me with confidence and grace, placed a soft hand against my cheek, and kissed me, slowly, softly, deeply, as her other hand clung tightly to my shoulder. She hummed greedily against my lips, and I felt my pounding heart melt. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close, feeling her warm, trembling body against mine, feeling our skirts swirl together between our legs, feeling her silky black hair brush against my cheek. Her lips were so soft but her kiss was firm, fierce, decisive, and it made me feel soft and weak and feminine, like I was her girl, hers to take and hold and kiss as much as she wanted. 

I had kissed girls before, if only ever onstage, but it had never felt like this. It had never felt as warm and wonderful as it felt to be a girl kissing another girl, to surrender softly instead of taking the lead, to feel her padded breasts press against my own as her gentle hand caressed my cheek. It had never felt so right. 

Serena pulled back slowly, sighing gently as her lips left mine. She smiled up at me, eyes full of wonder and desire, and softly spoke, “I’d like nothing more than to be your wife.” 

“Yeah,” I murmured dreamily, “That would be nice…”

Serena’s brow furrowed, “Huh?”

I froze, “What?”

“That was my next line. You said we had to perform the scenes exactly as written,” she pointed out. Her eyes widened, “Wait. Maude, did you…”

Oh, fuck! That was her next line! Her next line in the play! The play where we were both playing fictional characters, fictional girls, whose feelings very much did not and should not and could not overlap with what the two boys playing them were feeling. 

I staggered back from Serena – from Grover – in a horrified sweat. His eyes were wide and plaintive and concerned. 

“That.. was that acting?” he asked, still with that same beautiful smoky voice, now tinged with concern, “Is this an exercise I don’t know about?”

“Uh-huh! Yep!” I said desperately, “Just testing you! You gotta be ready to improvise if something goes wrong! Um! Okay! Consider your lessons complete! I have nothing more to teach you! Break a leg tomorrow!” 

I scrambled for my bag, stuffing my makeup and books into it. No time to change. I had to get out of this rehearsal room immediately. 

“Wait, Maude…” Serena – Grover! – started. 

“Thomas is fine!” I said, forcing myself to use my regular voice, even though it felt icky when I was all dressed up, “And seriously! Great work! A very naturalistic performance! Potentially, maybe, almost a little too natural! Haha! Just kidding! I love to make jokes, you know me!”

“Thomas, you’re being so weird right now,” Grover frowned, “Even for you.”

That was me, alright. Classic weird Thomas, always making other people uncomfortable. I finished packing my bag and rushed out the door, leaving Grover standing confused and alone in the rehearsal room behind me.