“I’m bored.” Dante rested his elbows on the table in his dressing room at the theater Friday night, staring into the mirror. He looked like an old man, thanks to the makeup he was wearing. It was a part of his character for the last act of the play in which he was the star.
“Bored? You’re kidding. We had the best opening night for a show in, hell, forever, according to Martin. You got more standing ovations—” Kade grinned “—than you deserved. How can you be bored?”
“Easy,” Dante replied, looking at his partner in the mirror. “No matter what, it’s the same old same old. Learn lines until I can say them in my sleep—”
“Which is the idea,” Kade pointed out as he spun Dante around to face him so he could remove the latex prosthetics that altered his appearance and store them in their contain
