“Sorry, I know I keep asking; but it always seems to be you shouldering all the work,” Gregory offered an apologetic smile. Leather ruffled through messy, brown hair, as Gregory applauded his efforts, “I appreciate it each time, Cyril.” His hands went over his own hair, dropping his hood (again), and around the perimeter of his face, as if to do last minute blending and tidying.
For a moment he was quiet, looking to where the audience would soon be seated and gave a nervous breath out.
Gregory wasn’t meant for the spotlight and it all felt strange up until showtime. And then it came naturally. He really wanted to be doodling something stupid instead or, perhaps, his next masterpiece.
But performance anxiety had to be put aside, and with an accidental smudge of his lipstick, Gregory’s eyes widened. Now he had to go backstage, again, a final time before curtain call, “I’ll come by after the show, Cyril.”
Cyril looked at Gregory as if he were the one who hung the stars up in his sky.
He would have voiced as such except that it would be really, really cheesy and embarrassing considering his group’s... theme. No, instead he’d make it so that others could see how well Gregory shined as well. He’d be a little jealous, but...
But he’d be helping him, and that’s all that really mattered in the end.
Cyril waved Gregory goodbye with an easy smile on his lips, his other hand rising to brush softly through the patch of hair the other hand mussed through. He definitely couldn’t disappoint after this, could he?
Maybe he could find some gels to tint the lights a different color... or better yet, find some star stencils!
“Good luck! I’ll be waiting!” He called out at last, turning on his heel back out to the stage. Being in production meant work, but it also meant the best seats. He was paid to watch them and be over analytical. It was the best. All that was left was for the actual stars to come out.
