• She wakes up one morning and wonders: “What is it I’m doing today?...Is it important?” She then looks at her calendar. “That’s right”, she remembers “opening night”. How could she have forgotten? She closes her eyes. If she wasn’t opening tonight, where would she be? Alone? With friends? Rehearsing? Wearily, she opens her eyes again. Where would she rather be? Here. Definitely. She would rather be here. This topped them all. This supposedly glamorous life that she was living. The fans, the fame, the fun, the Tonys. But above all, nights like this one. The passion with which she would perform tonight. The exhilaration of the songs and the music. The emotion, the longing and redemption that she will portray ever so convincingly, so that she deceives her audience into believing that she really feels it. That moment is fleeting, however, and she will not be that alive again until closing. When she must leave that play behind her and paint new ideas into the minds of spectators, young and old alike.

    Persephone was her name, after the famous girl in the play, kidnapped by Hades and tricked into staying with him. Her father had told her that story when she was a little girl. Over and over again she’d ask him to repeat it. He’d tell her about how the girl Persephone was fair and kind, like her mother. What was her mother like? Persephone had always wanted to know. She always got the same reply from her father as he kissed her goodnight and tucked her in, preparing her for the mythical world that lay ahead in her dreams. “Just like you.”

    That was all in the past, though. She had long ago grown out of those tales. Persephone didn’t speak to her father very often any more, not for years had she seen his face. Shameful, he had called her, just shameful. Well, if that’s the way he thought, so be it. She was above his level of thinking, open to new ideas.

    On opening night, Persephone often had reflections like these. She didn’t let them bother her. She supposed it was good to be emotional anyway. Adds to the feeling onstage.

    Humming, Persephone gently lifted herself out of bed. Today was the day, today was the day! Oh how she lived for days like this one! Opening night, the most exciting of them all. Also, the only show guaranteed to have an after party. Opening nights always have the most enthusiastic crowd. They are always theatre buffs, always anticipating the next big hit. As she put on her makeup, getting ready for the dress rehearsal that morning in her flat, she recalled the last opening night, when she had met Larissa, another Broadway actress that had come to see the play. After the show, Larissa had come to her and proposed another play. It was relatively new. Idina Menzel had won a Tony for it. The other main character was played by a Tony winner also, Kristin Chenoweth. The play was called Wicked and would be coming to Toronto. Persephone had never seen Wicked but she did know Kristin Chenoweth and Idina Menzel. She agreed to play Galinda/Glinda, Larissa would be playing Elphaba. After the show, Larissa and Persephone went to the after-show party together. They fell in love that night, and that was why her father kicked her out. He didn’t approve of his daughter being gay. He was short-sighted not to have seen it but he apparently hadn’t, and Persephone was shocked. That was why tonight was so important to her. The opening night of Wicked. She had given her father a ticket, but doubted he would be arriving.

    All through the rehearsal, Persephone felt the butterflies building up in her stomach. If Larissa hadn’t been there to calm her down, she might have had to bail out. This had never happened to her before, even thinking of bailing out. This, however, was the most monumental opening night she had ever encountered. This would test her father’s parenting, and his ability to accept. So many questions were whizzing through Persephone’s mind. Would he come? If he did, would he meet Larissa? Would Larissa be inclined to meet him? After all, Larissa had been outraged after Persephone was kicked out of her house. Thank goodness Larissa’s parents had been so understanding. Taking Persephone in like that. Until Persephone had saved enough money to get off on her own two feet, she had lived with them. Larissa’s apartment was too small for two people.

    Waiting in her bubble that would drop down and hang above the stage, Persephone looked down behind the curtains at Larissa.

    Looking up at her, Larissa mouthed “It’s ok, you’re gonna do great. If you get nervous just-” Larissa was cut short by the introductory song. No words of advice would be given tonight.

    When the curtain rose, Persephone could finally breathe. With all her worry about her father being there or not, she had temporarily forgotten that because the lights are so bright, you can’t see the audience. Her father would not be throwing her off tonight. She had been worried that she would see him and forget. Forget her lines; forget where she is supposed to be, forget what song is next, something like that. All in all, she was nervous that she would make a fool of herself while performing for an audience with Larissa for the first time. An attentive audience, an expectant crowd, and a booming silence waiting for her line. Persephone opens her mouth, takes a deep breath...and aces it.

    Arnold Blair sat peering over his spectacles watching his daughter sing and dance as she had many times before. He had not intended to come tonight, but it was looming over him the whole day. Why did this have to happen to him? Couldn’t it be somebody else’s daughter? She was just like her mother, in most ways. Not tonight. He couldn’t believe that his Persephone had gone through with this.

    He assumed that the green one was her girlfriend.

    After the show, Arnold would head straight home.

    The show was over. Persephone could breathe. They were amazing. Her father didn’t come to see her for all she knew. Persephone didn’t feel like going to an after party tonight, she had too much on her mind.

    Larissa walked up behind Persephone. “Don’t wait for him.” she whispered, “Why does it matter?”

    “You’re right, let’s go.” Together they walked through the backstage entrance.

    “I’m glad I didn’t stay.” muttered Arnold, walking home. He heard a door close somewhere to his right. He looked around. “s**t.” he thought, “Backstage entrance.” Arnold, Persephone and Larissa were all standing face to face.

    “You came.” said Persephone, without portraying any emotion.

    “You must be Arnold.” spat Larissa, glaring at him.

    “You must be Larissa.” He responded with equal distaste. “Good job tonight, both of you. You had very good...chemistry.” he sneered as he walked away.

    Persephone missed her father. They had been best of friends. She had no bad memories of him, even with him being the sole parent when she was growing up. All of that had fallen apart because of a stupid prejudice. Arnold missed her too. He was just afraid; he didn’t know what to think. What would her mother have done? Wasn’t this unexpected? Couldn’t he be entitled to shock? But did he handle it too rashly? Arnold was confused. He thought about all this. As he thought, Persephone and Larissa, hand-in-hand, walked in, ready to catch the same bus.

    “Oh joy.” said Larissa loudly and sarcastically when she entered the bus stop, “This will be fun.”

    Arnold just glared at her. He looked at Persephone and his expression softened a little, but not much.

    Was this fate? Persephone believed that it was. She hoped that this meant it would all end today. Persephone, at that moment as she was sitting on the bench near her father, missed her mother. Her mother had died soon after she was born, but she still missed her, or rather, felt her absence. How would this have been different if her mother was alive? Would she have been so small-minded? No, Persephone had always thought of her mother as a kind, understanding person, and not the kind who let small misunderstandings destroy years of happiness. Yes, she was confident that her mother would be on her side, and it comforted her.

    In the end, you remember crucial moments. You think of what you would have done differently. In the end, Arnold would be wishing that he never threw Persephone out. Persephone would recall this and wish that she ran over and hugged her father. Larissa would wonder what would have happened if she had walked up and shaken his hand. It sure would have shocked him and might have even worked. It didn’t go that way though, and everyone regretted it.

    When the bus came and everyone filed on, there were no empty seats so the trio had to stand. The bus ride was silent, save the chatter of two teenage girls which, frankly, was nerve-wracking. Larissa continued to glare, while Arnold had an unreadable expression on his face. Persephone looked melancholy. Finally, someone spoke.

    “This is stupid.” whispered Persephone to Larissa, “It makes no sense.”

    “I know that.” Larissa replied, “But I’m not the one you have to convince.” She nodded toward Arnold, who looked confused, as he had no idea what they were talking about.

    By the time Persephone and Larissa arrived back at their apartment it was dark. The two were tired from the stress on and off the stage. The joy of performing had long left Persephone and her body movements were now sad and slow. She was worn out.

    Larissa walked up behind her and kissed the back of her head. “Go to sleep.” she advised, “We have two shows tomorrow. Just don’t think about it right now.”

    Persephone nodded. She walked into the bathroom. Exhausted, Larissa sat down on the bed. What a night. Thank God she loved Persephone so much; she wouldn’t do that for everyone. Arnold infuriated her. The thought of a man so blind that years of love no longer made any difference. The whole situation just disgusted her. Larissa’s family had always been loving and accepting no matter what. The first thing Larissa did when she realized she was gay was ask her mother about it. She wasn’t used to this. It was hard for her to comprehend, even now, as she was stuck in the middle of it.

    The curtain rose and the other actors danced about on the stage below her. Her platform descended. This was her cue. Persephone looked up. Her father’s face was clearly visible in the audience, peering at her with those scrutinising eyes through his overly large spectacles. Looking down, Persephone attempted to say her line but drew a blank. Her father’s laughter began ringing in her ears. The laughing grew louder and more numerous. Her father’s laughter was everywhere, and so was he. In vain, Persephone called something out, but her voice was swallowed by the deafening roar of laughter. She looked down, and there, behind the curtain, was Larissa, facing the audience and motionless. Persephone called out to her, but she didn’t react. Her fathers started coming out of their seats and climbing onto the stage. Persephone watched, helpless, as they took Larissa, who went limp, somewhere out of sight. They advanced toward Persephone with terrifying looks on their faces. Persephone screamed and awoke with a start.

    Persephone lay there, shivering. Larissa, awoken by the scream, was there comforting her. Images of the dream vividly flashed through Persephone’s mind. She started to speak, but was hushed by Larissa. This had to stop, they both silently concluded.

    Persephone called in sick the next day. Larissa went to work though, and worried herself sick all day. At the end of the day, she came home to Persephone’s tear-stained face gazing out the window. Larissa tip-toed over to where she sat and wordlessly sat beside her. After a silence that seemed to last years, Persephone spoke.

    “I did it.” She whispered softly, “I called him.” Larissa waited for Persephone to continue. “We fought for the longest time.” She started, “then I just told him, “leave me alone or accept who I am.” He broke and started crying. He sounded like he really missed me. He says he’ll give it a shot and we’re invited to dinner next weekend after the show. Thank God.” She began sobbing at that point, and Larissa couldn’t get another word out of her.

    Happy, Larissa got up, and walked over to the calendar where “dinner at dad’s“ was scribbled in. She grabbed a marker and wrote “standing ovation” under opening night.