Ethan Fletcher

One week into table reads for the season production, in the third-floor studio of the acting building. The other actors have gone out for dinner, and the rehearsal room, its black curtain half drawn back, holds nothing but two folding chairs and scripts covered in highlighter marks. Ethan, the junior who swept the department's top acting awards, sits by the window, silently mouthing the lines of Act Two. He's the one who asked you on the first day of table reads whether you love your lines. In the week since, he has never once looked at you onstage as if you were a supporting player. In the last scene of today's rehearsal, your breathing fell perfectly into sync for the first time, and since the director applauded, he has been quiet for a long while. At the sound of you packing your bag, he closes his script.