Life on the Naughty List, or What the Elf!

12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

I stood at the front of the stage, getting ready to belt the eleven o’clock number. I looked up at the monitor hanging from the mezzanine. The conductor’s arms were flying as the tempo for the song grew faster. Beep! Her arms grew more chaotic and became a blur on the screen. I kept staring at the monitor, waiting for my cue. Beep! Finally, there was a pause in her movement. She looked straight into the camera mounted above her station so I could see when she held out her hand to me, which seemed to come right out of the monitor, beckoning me to sing. There was a moment when, I swear, she could see me through the monitor. She gave me a downbeat. Beep! I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. The conductor had a look of confusion cross her face. She led the orchestra back around to my cue and she gestured toward me again, giving me my cue. I tried to force something out. BEEP ! The sound of a foghorn burst forth from me. My arms flew to my open mouth, but covering my mouth with my hands couldn’t make the sound stop. BEEP ! A new sensation rolled over my body. It was as if a ghost was standing on my chest, trying to give me CPR. I wanted to panic, but it’s hard to hyperventilate when a foghorn is roaring from your chest. I closed my eyes, wishing it would all disappear. BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

My eyes flew open. A mound of white furry butt greeted me. A tail swished frantically in front of me as Bootsy slowly kneaded my left breast. What the…? BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! I slowly shook the brain fog out of my head as I nuzzled Bootsy off my chest, rolled over, and turned off my alarm clock. It was 6:30 a.m. Part of me just wanted to roll back over and sleep for another hour, but I had to get out of bed and head downstairs to the gym or I’d skip it again.

One would think all the crazy running around and dancing on stage would keep a Broadway actor in great shape. And it helps. But you need to be in pretty good shape if you’re going to sustain yourself eight shows a week during a long run of a Broadway musical. I threw my legs over the edge of my bed and grabbed the workout clothes I’d laid out on the dresser the night before. I put on my sports bra, which immediately squished my breasts firmly against my body. I then threw a tank top on which read, Divalicious ! in a bright red font. I slipped into a pair of black running leggings, socks, and a pair of tennis shoes. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, then pulled the ponytail through the back of a baseball cap emblazoned with the Wicked logo. With my hat in place, I was ready to work out. Well, ready to head downstairs.

Bootsy was already curled back up next to my pillow, probably enjoying the warmth from my body that had seeped into the bed while I slept. I grabbed my AirPods, iPhone, and keys and headed out of the apartment. I walked over to the elevator and pushed the button for the floor where the gym was located.

After I had finished laundry the previous afternoon, I’d lounged around the rest of the day doing a whole lot of nothing. I had wanted to have a chill evening without too much going on. Between six days of rehearsals and my disastrous date, I had wanted to lie on the couch, watch some Netflix, and veg out, so I had.

The elevator door opened, and someone else headed down to the gym nodded at me as I entered. She was wearing a similar outfit, but her ballcap was from the most recent revival of Company . What is her name? She was slightly older, and I knew she’d been in the latest revival, but I couldn’t remember what her name was off the top of my head. I really should get to know the people in my building better. Then again, this was New York City. We do a lot of nodding our heads to sort-of-strangers as we go throughout our daily lives when we’re not busy avoiding eye contact with people on the street.

After a couple more stops and a few more early risers joined us, our little group of morning gym-goers stepped out into the hallway before heading to the glass enclosure that was the building gym. For a Monday morning, the gym was already active. Thankfully, no one was on my favorite treadmill, so I went over and snagged it before doing a few light stretches. When I was ready, I hopped onto the treadmill and started moving at a nice slow jog. I ran the lines I’d learned the previous evening in my head. Once I was good to go with the lines, I put my AirPods in and pulled up my Broadway Mega Mix, which I’d created. The list of songs were all the ones that were upbeat and fun to run to.

Forty-five minutes later, I pulled myself off the machine and wiped it off quickly because no one wants to get on a machine coated in someone else’s sweaty mess. I did a few more stretches to ensure I wouldn’t get sore. Then, I headed back upstairs to the apartment. Before heading into the shower, I pulled out a protein shake from my fridge. I learned a long time ago that I am horrible at taking care of myself first thing in the morning, so a friend of mine from college who’s a dietician recommended protein shakes. I’d picked up some new pumpkin spice-flavored ones when I went grocery shopping a couple of weeks ago. But I grabbed the coffee-flavored protein shake because it had the same amount of caffeine as a cup of coffee.

I sat down at my small dining room table and looked through the news. Not too much was going on, so by the time I’d finished my protein shake, it was already 8:10, so I needed to get my butt in gear if I was going to make it to rehearsal by 9:00.

I showered quickly and then threw on a cream-colored cashmere sweater and a pair of black jeans. I said goodbye to Bootsy and headed out into the cold November morning. And it was downright chilly. I pulled my coat up around my throat as high as possible as I traipsed out into the morning air. Thankfully, most tourists aren’t blocking the sidewalks around the theater district early on a Monday morning, so I could make it to the theater in under ten minutes with no problem. One thing you learn about New Yorkers living in the city is we have two speeds, fast and get the heck out of my way—I have somewhere to be like ten minutes ago. Most New Yorkers avoid the places where tourists congregate because tourists gawk a lot and saunter down the sidewalk like they’re out for a Sunday stroll. I always joke there should be two different sidewalk lanes, one for tourists and one for people who live here.

The construction people were already streaming into the Maurer Theatre. Since I was early, I peeked into the main theater to see how things were progressing. The seats in the back part of the theater were already being installed, but there was still a ton of work that needed to be accomplished before the space was ready for audiences. I strolled into the orchestra level to see what it would look like. The interior was sleek and modern. Personally, I prefer the sense of history one gets when stepping foot into the older Broadway theaters. I continued walking down the center aisle until I emerged from the overhang of the flying circle, which was the level just above the orchestra. I looked up and could see both the flying circle and the mezzanine levels from that vantage point.

“Hey! This is a hardhat-only area, lady,” a voice yelled from somewhere in the theater. The acoustics of the hall made it difficult to see where the voice came from.

“Sorry,” I yelled back into the void. “I wanted to see how things looked.” I didn’t wait for a response. I headed out of the space and made my way to the Rose Theater, the small black-box theater we used as the rehearsal space.

I walked into the Rose Theater and found several cast members already sitting around the table at the front of the room. Guess we’re going to run the new script . I walked up and said hello to a handful of people. I found my name tag. Someone had already put out bottles of water on the table for all of us, which I was going to appreciate as the morning progressed. I looked at the names on either side of me and found that Katherine would be on my left and Peeter would be on my right. I guess they wanted to keep the ghosts together.

“Good morning,” Katherine said, sitting down next to me. “How was your Sunday?”

“Sunday was nice and relaxing. You?”

“Uneventful, like I wanted it to be.” Katherine looked around to make sure no one was within earshot before she asked, “How was the date?” Apparently, the facial expression I made instinctually answered the question. “That bad, huh?”

“The date was great. The finding out he was married part kind of killed the evening.”

“Doh!” Katherine said in her best Homer Simpson impersonation. “How’d you find out?”

I quickly told her the story. She guffawed at the right moment.

“Oh wow,” Katherine said. “That’s horrible. Men!”

“Men, indeed,” I groused. “Sometimes, I think it would be easier to be a lesbian or asexual.”

“Well, don’t give up yet,” Katherine said. “You know, I have a friend—“

“No more blind dates,” I said, crossing my arms in a big x in front of my body.

“He’s a hot lawyer,” Katherine said in response. She pulled out her phone and flipped through a few images. “Take a look.” She handed me the phone. I had to admit, he was hot.

“And he’s single?”

“Very.”

“And we’re sure that he’s single?”

Katherine chuckled. “I can guarantee you he’s single. He’s shy. And his law firm has him working crazy hours, so he really doesn’t have time to get out and socialize.”

“Let me think about it,” I said.

“Don’t think about it too long. I’m sure a hottie like him will eventually be snatched up.”

“Ahh…heck, why not?”

“Awesome,” Katherine sung in her falsetto, which garnered a few looks from people around the table. “Are you free any night this week?”

“Basically, I have rehearsals and vocal lessons. That’s about it,” I told her, wondering why I’d agreed to go on another blind date.

“Perfect! I’ll text him at our first break.”

There was a clearing of a throat. I pivoted my attention to Rebekka Eldridge, who now stood at the front of the table.

“Good morning, team,” she said. “I know the first week was wonky as we all got our sea legs. After thinking about the show and where it was headed this weekend, I had a brilliant spark of inspiration.” Something about how she said the last part made me queasy inside. “The show wasn’t…festive enough. It needs more Christmas spirit. Suppose you go back and watch the original movie. In that case, it’s only really considered a Christmas movie because of the first part of the movie. We need to rethink everything and make it considerably more joyful. I want this show to be the ultimate holiday musical.”

San Nicolás quickly burst into applause. The rest of the table joined in with polite applause.

Eldridge waited for the applause to wane before she continued. “After discussing the show with the artistic team over dinner,” she started. I looked over at the artistic team, and their stone-cold faces told me everything I needed to know. Clearly, the creative team looked blindsided. “I’ve heightened the holiday spirit of the show. I went through the scripts and did my best to make them jollier.” Eldridge said, looking around the room for the intern. “Aarya, please pass out the new scripts.”

Aarya appeared with a box of binders and started handing out the updated scripts. Part of me wanted to complain since I’d spent time yesterday memorizing the new lines I’d been given, but I kept my mouth shut. Aarya came over and they handed me the new binder. My name was printed on the top of the binder. The title had changed from Beyond Tomorrow to The Naughty List . I opened the binder and looked at the cast. I can only imagine what my face looked like when I read that my character’s name had changed. I was no longer Michael O’Brien. I was now listed as Tinsel Hollicane. We were now listed as The Elves. Katherine’s character was now called Icelyn Candywine, and Peeter’s character was Blitz Nightwish.

“As you can see,” Eldridge started. “I’ve updated the three tycoons and made them North Pole elves living in New York City.” She said this with such excitement. She clearly thought everyone else would be as enthusiastic about these changes as she was. Instead, the room sat there in stunned silence, unsure what they were supposed to do with the new information. She gave a broad smile and sat down.

San Nicolás stood to address the group. “I know these changes are complex and add new dimensions to your characters, but I think these changes will be beneficial for ensuring the long-term success of the show.”

I looked around the table and watched as everyone nodded. From what I could see, most people didn’t agree with the sentiment, but everyone was at least willing to see where this would take us.

“This morning,” San Nicolás started again, “we will read through the new script. We’ll also be looking for places where we think we can enhance the holiday vibes of the show, so don’t be surprised when we have more rewrites as the week goes on.” He turned his head and looked at the composer, lyricist, and book writer. “Our joyful team here,” he said, gesturing to the three, “have their work cut out for them this week. They’ll be updating the script and coming up with new musical numbers all week long, so be prepared for lots of changes.”

We sat there quietly until Peeter said what everyone was thinking. “What the f—“

“None of that,” Eldridge snapped. “We want to keep in the festive spirit of the show. Think like elves would think. Instead of using dirty words, say something like…I don’t know… what the fudge ?”

“Is she fudging kidding me?“ Peeter asked under his breath.

San Nicolás looked at the group and could tell they needed a moment, so he said politely, “Let’s take a break. When we get back, we’ll start working our way through the new script.”

As people got up from the table, I leaned back and sat there in stunned silence.

“Well, it looks like I need to update my vocabulary,” Peeter said. He paused for a second, clearly in deep thought. If I tried hard enough, I could almost see the steam coming from his ears. “Son of a nutcracker,” he said. “Or maybe, Mother Frosty the Snowman…or maybe Not Today Santa.”

I turned my head and looked at him. “What are you doing?”

“Well, the producer doesn’t want us to use bad words, so I’m festivizing my vocabulary.”

“Festivizing?” Katherine and I said in unison.

“Let’s face it, this show is turning into a real elf-ing mess,” Peeter grumbled.

“Go elf yourself,” Katherine responded before bursting into a giggle fit.

“What the elf is wrong with you two?” I asked. I couldn’t help myself.

“Well, Kiss My Artificial Tree,” Katherine said, using a southern twang that reminded me of Flo from the nineteen-seventies television show Alice .

“Holly Fudge,” Peeter said, “You two are a bunch of ice-holes.”

“Go stuff yourself in a stocking,” I responded. “Or better yet, eat coal.”

The three of us burst into a fit of giggles, which caught Eldridge’s unwanted attention, so we smiled and left the stage to take our break elsewhere.

I went to the bathroom quickly before heading back into the theater. Most of the cast had trickled back in when I got back inside. One person was visibly not there, Eldridge.

Once the last cast member was in her chair, San Nicolás addressed the group. “I know Eldridge’s announcement this morning was a bit of a shock for all of us.”

“Wait…you didn’t know about these changes?” Maeve McKenna asked.

“Umm…” San Nicolás said hesitantly. “Although Rebekka and I had discussed the need to think through the lighter Christmas elements of the show, we had not discussed her artistic vision.”

“What the elf!” Peeter whispered. It took all my control not to burst out laughing.