Maybe I just needed to confess my sins.
As I started to tell him about my time in New York, my aunt's warning drifted through my head. And maybe she was right. Maybe I was crazy to trust him. But then again, maybe not.
"My mom moved us to New York when I was twelve," I told him. "First upstate and then down to the city. My father ran off when I was young, and she spent way too many years waiting around for him to come back. When she finally realized that wasn't going to happen, she decided to leave the south and start new somewhere else."
"But you had family here," he'd said. "I would imagine that would be helpful when you are a single mom on your own."
"Not really. The only family she allowed me to see was my aunt. Of course, I didn't know that. I only recently discovered I have a slew of cousins I'd never known about." My soft laughter was hurt and awkward.
"Why didn't she let you see your family?"
"At the time, I had no idea about them so it didn't matter. Now, I know it was because they're all fucking crazy."
He laughed, the sound rich and warm, heating my insides much more efficiently than the wine. "I can understand that." There was a thread of familiarity in his tone. But before I could explore that further, he brought the conversation back around to my life growing up. "So, you grew up in New York City."
I nodded.
"What made you decide you wanted to be on Broadway?"
"Oh, well, that one's easy," I told him. "Shortly after we got to the city, my mom took me to see The Phantom of the Opera." I remembered every minute detail like it was yesterday. "And from the very first opening notes, when the chandelier lights exploded and the music started, I was in love. The stage, the sets, the music...it all gave me chills." I paused as I remembered. "It was completely overwhelming and yet, I'd never seen or heard anything more beautiful. I decided right then and there I wanted to be one of those people who could create this feeling in people. So, I begged my mom to put me into dance lessons. And she did. I eventually added voice training and acting lessons. I worked my ass off all through high school and into my twenties."
"So you've always been a student of the arts."
"Yes and no. I also got a degree in business because that's what my mother wanted me to do. She was an executive, and assumed I would do the same once I'd burned out this crazy idea. She always told me getting her degree was the one smart thing she'd done in her life. I landed an entry level job at a tech company, gradually working my way up through the company. And, in the meantime, I started auditioning. I landed some very minor roles here and there on a few of the smaller shows. Nothing to brag about." I stopped for a sip of my wine. "Up until she died, my mom never supported that part of my life. She told me I didn't have 'it'. Told me I was too old. That if I hadn't gotten a part yet, no one was going to give me a chance, and blah, blah, blah. I was starting to believe her." I looked up to find I had Killian's complete attention. "And then I landed a major role in a new musical."
I sat there lost to my thoughts for a while as I remembered the thrill of getting the callback. I must have sat there for a long time, because he nudged me on with a soft, "Go on."
"My best friend had gotten a part, too," I told him. "I was so excited we were going to share the stage. Debbie, not so much. We'd both auditioned for the main part. And for the first time, I was the one who got it, and she was placed in a role with less stage time. When they finished casting, a bunch of us went out to celebrate. Me, Debbie, and five of the other actors. We hit the town hard. We drank. We danced. We dined. We drank some more, and danced some more. And somewhere in all of that, I had the bright idea to share something with Debbie, something I'd kept hidden from everyone but my mom, who had told me my entire life I would get locked up if I started running around showing people my true self."
"What's so wrong with being yourself?"
My heart ached as my mother's face, twisted in disgust and fear, flashed through my mind. "Everything, apparently." I finished my wine and held my glass out for more. "But I was tired of hiding. So, in the middle of the dance floor of a crowded New York City club, I, in my drunken state of mind, stopped dancing and did the one trick I'd figured out how to control. I opened my fist to reveal a flame dancing on my palm."
"But it wasn't a trick."
I shook my head. "No."
Something flickered behind his eyes. There and gone so fast I wondered if I'd imagined it. "What did your friend do?" he asked.
"At first, she laughed. When I showed her another flame in my other hand, she stopped dancing. Then her blue eyes bugged out and she grabbed my wrist and dragged me over to the rest of the group. 'Show them,' she demanded. 'Show them what you just showed me.' Five sets of bloodshot eyes turned my way as I tried not to fall in the heels that I'd had no problems dancing in a minute ago." I laughed self-consciously and held my hands out, palms up. "I held my hands like this so they could see nothing was there."
I closed my fists and thought about fire. First just a spark. Then the way the flames flickered. I felt a flare of heat dance across my palms and focused it into the center. Then I opened them again.
In the centers of both of my palms were little, flickering flames.
Killian glanced down at the fires briefly, then back up to my face. He showed no shock, no fear, no reaction at all.
"They freaked out. The guy closest to me shoved his chair back and stood up. 'Holy shit,' he'd said. 'How the hell did you do that?' There were other things I could do, too. New things I discovered every day. But I didn't want them to think I was a complete freak. So, as Debbie laughed hysterically beside me and the rest of them stared in horror my palms, I closed my fists," I closed them tight and lowered my arms, "and put out the flames. I tried to play it off to them, realizing my mistake too late. Finally, I just offered to buy everyone drinks and Debbie and I headed off to the bar. Other than some odd looks here and there, the rest of the night was fairly uneventful."
"But that wasn't the end of it, was it, Lizzy?"
"No." I shook my head, then frowned when it took a few seconds for everything to come into focus again. "I'd thought it was. I thought nobody would remember. We were all so, so drunk. Or, if they did remember, they would just think it had been some kind of amazing trick I'd done and they'd been stupid to believe it. I really thought they would all forget about it. But I was wrong."
"What happened?"
I looked up to find Killian staring at me intently. "I guess I overestimated their loyalty to me," I told him. "Two days later when we started rehearsals, no one would talk to me. The group I'd gone out with—people I'd known for years as we all auditioned for the same shows—acted like I was some sort of pariah. Even Debbie. Everywhere I went, I heard whispers behind my back." I laughed again, but this time it was ugly. "It was like being in high school again. Only worse, because this was my career. This was something I had fought for. Something I'd poured blood, sweat, and tears into. And sooo many blisters."
"What did you do?"
