Guilford taps on my dressing room door that’s open a crack.

I turn around, curious why he’s coming to talk to me after the show.

I did my best out there, didn’t allow myself to run on automatic just because Ines wouldn’t look at me. The way I figure it, all I have is the integrity to my own standards.

Those people paid for tickets.

I’m not going to phone it in just because there’s drama in my personal life.

They deserve better than that.

When I step onstage, I give my all.

If she doesn’t want to do the same, that’s on her.

But her treatment did nothing to make me doubt our break up.

I’m sure our director has heard the gossip, so I’m preparing to tell him that I can still go on with the shows despite the fact our relationship is severed.

Guilford interrupts my planned launch into defensiveness. “Logan, we’ve lost Dieter. He’s quitting.” Gracefully touching one of my costumes that’s hanging from the rack by my door, he goes on to explain, “I wasn’t here when Asher left the production, as you know, but if I had been I would never have cast an outsider and started from scratch. Not when I had you.” He props himself on a stool, more leaning against it than on it, one of his feet up for balance on the rung. “I want you to take the lead.”

The contrast of being offered the lead role in one area of my life on the same day I quit another, makes me stare at him.

Proud at rendering me speechless, Guilford’s eyes sparkle. “You’re surprised. To tell you the truth, I don’t know why you haven’t asked for the opportunity. I have to think you’re used to settling for less than you deserve.” He tilts his head, curious. “Have you not noticed how much you shine during your understudy performances? How the level of applause is louder than when Dieter performs?”

“I don’t gauge things like that.” With a frown, I add, “I lose myself in what I’m doing, pretend I’m really there.”

“Didn’t Ines point it out, the applause?”

“No.”

He nods, thoughtful as he walks toward my door. “I think your time of being the best friend is over. Rise and take your position as the lead in my production.” He disappears.

His statement ricochets.

Not just in the room.

In my soul.

If he hadn’t said it exactly like that, it might not have struck this chord in me. But he did say it. And now I’m pulling down the postcards I taped as a frame around my mirror from all of the countries we’ve played at. My civilian clothes get shoved into my leather bag with them. I toss the makeup in the trash. Leave behind my costumes for the next guy.

Walking up the dark hallway backstage, I rap on the doors of my cast members, my friends, family away from home, hurriedly barking, “Guys, I’m leaving the show!”

Door after door is flung open by shocked hands.

Everyone is shouting, “Logan’s leaving?” “Why?” “You can’t be serious. Logan, is it true?”

Guilford spins around in his chair in the theater office, eyebrows rising as he sees the crowd with me, its ringleader. “What’s this?”

“I wanted to tell all of you at once, because you all mean so much to me. I can’t possibly scratch the surface of how grateful I am to know you. Guilford, thank you for offering me the lead.” This news sends titters throughout the other cast members. I raise my voice to regain their attention. “But I have to turn it down. I’m in love with a girl back in America. I can’t ignore that anymore. And I can’t let her ignore it, either.”

Guilford stands up, his stance indignant. “You are giving up the opportunity of a lifetime for love?”

I cock an eyebrow and smirk, “Love is the opportunity of a lifetime.”

My fellow cast breaks out in cheers and as I make my way through the throng, I hug every single fucking one of them. Tears aren’t held back. Smiles aren’t either. Even Guilford finally has one on his face as he shouts after me through cupped hands, “This is the exit of a star, Logan!”

I lock eyes with Ines as she hugs her robe to her, standing far back from the crowd.

She shakes her head.

I nod mine once, silently communicating that she was right all along. My heart belonged to someone else. “I’m sorry.”

She waves with sad eyes, and I read her lips saying, “Just go.”

Johan and Terrence walk out with me, both insisting I promise I’ll talk to them often. “You did it for her!”

I hug them before I jump into a cab that stops the second I raise my hand. “When I say I promise I’m going to keep in touch, you guys know I mean it.”

They grin as I close the door. The cab pulls away from the curb and my friends who’ve been through so much with me, hit its trunk, and start running on either side. Terrence does a split-leap and nearly runs into a lamp post. We all crackup as the cab increases its speed and merges with traffic, leaving them behind.

I dial Samantha, and after two rings she answers, “This is a surprise, Logan. It’s Sunday.”

“What are you doing right now?”

“Packing. You got me worried.”

“What are you packing for?”

“Logan, you’ve never called me on any day other than a Monday for almost two years.”

“Are you going on vacation? Just away for the weekend, or for a long time, or what?”

There’s an uncomfortably long pause before she says, “I told you Steven wanted me to move in with him.”

My chest explodes, and it gets worse as I hear Lexi in the background saying, “I didn’t realize how much stuff you had!”

Hoarse and urgent, I shout, “Samantha, don’t do anything until I get there. Just stay right where you are!”

“What? Wait, are you in Georgia?”

“I’m in Hong Kong.” Rubbing my forehead at how long these flights take to get me from here to her, I say, “Remember when you asked me to promise to call you every Monday? And I didn’t want to? But I did it.”

She’s confused and quiet. “Yes.”

“I’m asking something of you now. Don’t move in with this guy yet. I’m coming back to Atlanta because I want to say something to you. Wait for me.”

“You’re flying back here to say something to me?”

“Wait for me,” I repeat. “Samantha, promise me. Promise you’ll wait!”

Lexi begins to say something, but Sam hushes her and returns to the phone. “I’ll wait.”

My heart is pounding as I nod and realize she can’t see me nodding, but my throat feels strangled so it takes me a second to choke out, “I’ll see you Monday.”