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Chapter 8 by zankoo zankoo

What's next?

Greg joins Abbie on stage

"Absolutely. Especially if you think it will help."

Greg walked up onto the stage. He faced Abbie, standing just a few feet from her. "Let's play like this, so the camera can see us. Now you begin facing away from me so that my first line gets your attention."

"Okay." Abbie turned away, and walked a bit to make space between them.

"Hey, Kim, how's college life?"

"Isaac!" She turned to see him, and this time, had a huge smile on her face. As she turned, her ponytail swung around. "Nice to see you. It's a lot of work, but I'm totally loving it." She walked toward Greg, and as she did, she looked him up and down, and then gazed at his face. More softly than before, she said, "Just a few more months before you go off to college. Are you excited?"

Abbie began to laugh.

"What happened?"

"Sorry, I found it funny that you're supposed to be, like, 18, but you have gray hair and a beard."

"Are you suggesting that I'm old?" teased Greg.

Abbie blushed. "No! Oh my god, no. I didn't mean that at all! Oh, I'm so embarrassed. Please, no, that wasn't it!"

Greg put up a hand. "It's totally fine. I'm 53 years old. I'm supposed to have gray hair and a beard. It's all good."

Abbie was heartbroken. "Oh boy. I can't believe I just did that. I feel so stupid!"

"Abbie, really, it's totally fine. I'm not bothered. Look at me. I'm not." Abbie looked up. Greg walked toward her. "Trust me, it's fine. Can you trust me?"

"Yes, I can," said Abbie.

Greg put his hands on Abbie's arms. She glanced at his hands. Her arms were bare, and his hands were large and warm. Greg took a breath. "Now it's my turn to feel stupid. I shouldn't have put my hands on you without asking first." He lifted his hands away.

"Um, it's okay if you put your hands on my arms."

"I should have asked. We try to build trust in the theater, and actors need to trust and know what each other are doing."

"You can't just, you know, put your arms on someone who's about to be upset to comfort her?" Abbie asked, looking at Greg. He couldn't tell if she was a beat away from crying or laughing.

Greg smiled. "We're not supposed to. But if I ask -- Abbie, can I put my hands on your shoulders? -- then it's up to you to agree."

"I see. Yes, Greg, you can put your hands on my shoulders."

Greg nodded. "Like that."

Abbie cocked her head to gesture at her own shoulders. Greg smiled, and brought his hands back to her. "There."

What's next?

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