The Critic (2 page)

Scott and I left the theater and grabbed a cab to the train station. While seeing a show was entertaining, my night was far from over. I needed to write a review that would most likely piss people off, especially a certain Ms. Andrea Jordan.

When my review was submitted, I wondered if the proofreader would question my abrasiveness. I knew Scott wouldn’t. I figured he’d be happy I hadn’t titled my review, “Andrea Jordan Looked Totally Fuckable.” Scott had told me to write with my brain and not my dick, so I did. All I could do was write the truth.

“
Love Entirely
Wasn’t Entirely Loved” ended up being my title, and what sucked was that I knew once Andrea Jordan had read the review, she’d hate me. That wasn’t exactly the way I’d wanted to start my career or make my first impression on her, but being an honest critic was important.

Over time, that review, and several others that were referred to as “spot-on,” won me critical acclaim, and thus the critic was born. I was no longer just Bentley Chambers, theater critic for the
Edge.
I was
the one
producers, actors, and theater patrons looked to. To me, my words were just an opinion, but to them, my opinion was so much more. Some hated me, while others praised me, but through it all, I wanted to see one person flourish and succeed: the woman who often starred in my dreams, both awake and asleep
—Andrea Jordan.
All I could do was hope that I’d witness it and be able to write about it.

Five Years Later

I stood center stage and stared at the empty theater. The burgundy seats, which would soon be filled with theater-goers, made my heart race. The Xs and lines for blocking and positioning were laid down on the shiny wood floor, and everything was ready for tonight’s preview show. But was I? Being front and center as a lead was all I’d dreamt of, and the time had come for that dream to become reality. My nerves spiked, and my palms grew sweaty as I walked from spot to spot, practicing my lines in my head.

If my prayers were answered, this small production would turn into the biggest chance of my life. I hadn’t had an opportunity this big in half a decade thanks to the scathing reviews I’d received. Thankfully, not all my reviews had been horrible, but I had the lead now, and I wouldn’t fuck it up. Nope, no way would I blow it. When I’d auditioned, our director, Mack, told me I’d only edged out my understudy by a few lines. I needed to be as good as I could be. No, I needed to be spectacular, or funding would be pulled.

As my lines swirled through my brain and my feet traveled from mark to mark, I swung my right hand and hit a muscular chest. I looked up to see Seth, one of my closest friends and our set designer.

“Sorry, Andi. I didn’t know you were rehearsing. I hope I didn’t interrupt. Mack wanted me to check the sets.” Seth’s calm voice soothed me.

“I’m just taking it all in, ya know? You guys did an amazing job. If I didn’t know we were in Jersey, I’d believe we were on North Michigan Avenue in Chicago.” I nudged Seth with my shoulder.

“Thanks, that means a lot to me. I’ll say this crew is top notch. They really outdid themselves.” A prideful smile grew across his handsome face.

“Yes, they did, but they had you to lead them. That says a lot too.”

He blushed, which made me laugh. Seth was about my age and very easy on the eyes. His deep brown eyes lit up at my compliment even though he should have been used to them by now. I was his biggest fan.

“You look nervous. Are you okay?” His voice was laden with concern.

I stopped fidgeting with the hem of my shirt and half-smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

His brows rose.

“Really, I am,” I said.

Seth put his hands on my shoulders. “You’re a wonderful actress. I don’t know what it’s like being in the spotlight, but I’ve watched you there before, and you make it look effortless and believable. Don’t doubt your talent. I love ya, and you got this.” He kissed my cheek.

I was comforted knowing that he’d be in the wings as I was center stage. “Thank you. That means the world to me. It’s just this show depends on us being spot-on. If the reviews aren’t good, we won’t get the backing to leave Jersey. I need this . . . we all do.” My heart constricted with the pressure riding on me. The thought of a show progressing to Broadway or not solely because of my work weighed on me, but I knew I could do it. I was a good actress, and I needed to remember that. If my confidence wavered, it would show.

“I have faith in you, and remember, you aren’t the only one on the stage. Don’t put all the stress on your shoulders,” he said. “But if I don’t check all these props, the Sears Tower may fall, and that wouldn’t be good for the show, now would it?” He winked and walked off the stage.

I took one last look around at the empty seats, wondering where the critics would be. In a way, it was good I didn’t know, because I didn’t want to direct anything toward them. Once I was comfortable, I went to my dressing room to get ready for one of the biggest nights of my life.

Applause continued as we took our final bow, and the curtain lowered. I let out a deep breath that I was unaware I’d been holding. My fellow cast members hugged each other, and the cheers seeping through the thick blue velvet curtain were palpable. I stood stock-still, staring at the stage floor, wondering if I’d finally have my break. Could I make it to Broadway? Was I closer to having my dream come true? I saw Seth high-fiving his team, and he gave me a thumbs-up. I nodded and closed my eyes. I thought of bright lights and my name in theater programs, and a sense of joy enveloped me.

My best friend’s shriek brought me out of my fantasy. “Andi, you were fantastic.”

I smiled wide. The adrenaline of being on the big stage still coursed through my veins

“Do you really think so?”

She swatted my arm. “The audience loved you! Couldn’t you hear them? That standing ovation should be a clue that you nailed it. You need to enjoy this. I’ll meet ya outside. I’m so excited for you!”

Gina’s enthusiasm was contagious, and I loved her for it. She wasn’t a stranger to the business. Although she was a makeup artist, she got critiqued in reviews as well.

“I’ll be just a few minutes. I need to scrape off this pancake batter you artists paint our faces with.”

“Can’t blame me for this one.” Gina rolled her eyes and smiled.

I returned her smile, but I was still uneasy about the show. Deep down, I knew I’d performed well, but art, no matter what form, was always subjective. There was one critic who needed to love it. He had made and ruined careers with his printed words, and that was Bentley Chambers. He wrote critiques for the
Edge,
a critically acclaimed newspaper that was like the Bible to the theater world.

Mr. Chambers had critiqued a couple shows I’d performed in, and his reviews weren’t glowing. He’d once written that he “didn’t connect with Andrea Jordan’s performance.” He wrote
as if I’d done something personal to him. You need thick skin to be an actress, and although I felt as if mine should have the density of rawhide after all the shit reviews I’d received, it still bruised easily.

Thankfully, with this performance just being a preview, the only critics in attendance had been drama students from the local university, a few critics from local papers, and patrons with deep pockets. Our true opening night was over a week away. That was when I’d really worry about what Mr. Chambers would write—if he showed.

Mack waited for us offstage. He pulled my co-star, Justin, and me aside. His voice was as deep as the wrinkles on his forehead. “Great performance, you two. Let’s hope it was enough.”

He seemed to direct the last part of that comment toward me. I was probably just being paranoid, but it didn’t resonate well.

“I’m sure they loved it.” Justin rubbed my back.

“What’s wrong, Mack? Don’t you think they liked it?” I asked when I saw the worried look on my director’s face. I could practically hear the gears turning in his skull. My heart raced, and I suddenly felt ill.

Mack swallowed hard and ran his hand back and forth over his shaved head as if a genie would emerge from his ears. “There was a critic from the city in the audience. I didn’t see him, but one of the stagehands heard he was in attendance.”

My eyes closed, and I wrapped my arms around my stomach. “Who?” My voice trembled.

“The one who matters: Bentley Chambers.” Mack’s voice was laced with uneasiness, which didn’t help my current state.

“Oh my God, you have got to be kidding me.” I’d have sworn that man was following me around just to destroy me. My voice became louder as I grew more irritated. “He hardly ever attends shows in Jersey!” If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought that asshole had it in for me. I stared at Mack, trying to get some sense of reassurance that the show was good enough, but his tense smile spoke volumes.

“Like I said, I thought you both did fine, so let’s assume he did as well,” Mack said before he walked away.

Fine? We did fine? That word made my nausea worse. I needed to get out of there. Justin was new to the scene and four years my junior. Age in our industry was different for women. I knew that if something didn’t happen for me soon, my time would dissipate. I looked as though I was in my early twenties, but I wasn’t, and my resume said so. Why the hell would Mr. Chambers review our show? It was nothing in comparison to the ones in the city.

My heart thundered as I wondered what he’d thought about it. Could he finally like a show I was in? I needed to calm down and hope for the best.

Justin and I walked toward our dressing rooms. Gina was waiting for me out front, so I wanted to hurry and get cleaned up. The costumes were heavy, and my body was craving my jeans and T-shirt.

“So this Bentley guy sounds like a douche.” Justin had an easy way about him, but he didn’t seem very pleased by the news either.

“I think douche is too much of a compliment. He’s horrid, wretched, and I hope that whoever saw him was wrong and he wasn’t here.” I pushed open my dressing room door as I turned to Justin. “I’m sure he loved your performance, so don’t worry.” As the door clicked shut behind me, I was greeted by my mirror. My reflection stated, “You’re fucked. Pack your shit up now because you’re done.”

I wanted to find Seth to see who on his crew knew who the asshole was, but they were in a post-production meeting. I wanted to stick around to talk to him, but Gina was waiting for me. Due to the fact that Bentley Chambers spent a large amount of time ruining careers and trashing lives, his picture had never been attached to his reviews. I’d never seen the image of the man who seemed to have it in for me.

I made my way outside, into the crisp air, and saw Gina on the sidewalk with a bouquet of daisies, my favorite. My lips curled into a smile that I knew didn’t touch my eyes. “Thank you for the flowers.” I hugged her for longer than I should have, but she was more like a sister than a friend. At times, she seemed like the only family I had.

She pulled back and looked at me with worry in her eyes. “Okay, what’s wrong? You were so happy a few minutes ago.”