Chapter 143: the last line

Chapter 143 — The Last Line

Liam held the pages out with both hands, the way someone offers a cup that might be too hot. Roxanne took them and read.

In the original version, the royal siblings slipped out of the palace together before the ceremony began, laughing as they ran. In Liam’s new ending, they stopped at the gates. His character admitted that running away would not solve everything. Hers replied that staying should not mean surrendering every choice she had. They agreed to go back, but on their own terms.

She liked the idea. She did not like how it sounded.

"You’ve turned a comedy into a royal philosophical debate."

"It’s called character development."

"It’s called making people regret buying tickets."

Liam grinned, but he did not defend the pages. He sat on the edge of the stage and said, "What would you change?"

It was the question she had been hoping for, and it took her a moment to answer. They tried two versions. In the first, Liam dropped a joke straight after the serious exchange, something about the horses developing opinions. It earned a laugh from the empty room, but Roxanne felt the ending go slack, as though someone had let the air out of it. In the second, they kept every serious line and cut the humour entirely. The scene stiffened. Neither of them sounded like their characters.

"It should end on a laugh," Liam said. "People want to leave happy."

"People should understand why the siblings finally stand together."

"They can do both."

"Then show me how."

They stared at each other, stubborn and amused, until the coordinator appeared in the doorway with her whistle swinging from one finger.

"Stop arguing about the last line," she said. "Perform the whole scene from the top. Endings get clearer when the characters have somewhere to come from."

Roxanne sighed. Liam looked relieved to have been spared a verdict.

They began again. This time Roxanne let her character’s exhaustion show, the weariness of being told by everyone what she ought to do, and her lines came out lower and less sharp. Liam answered with humour at first, bright and quick, but as the scene went on, the brightness thinned. His character’s worry showed through it like a lamp through paper.

When Roxanne’s character asked why he kept following her, Liam paused. It was a long, genuine pause.

"Because I don’t want you to face it alone."

Roxanne stopped breathing for a half second. The line was not in the script.

Liam looked at her, and she could see him waiting, wondering whether she would break the scene or stay inside it. It was her choice, and he had left it entirely hers.

She stayed.

"Then stop following me," she said, "and walk beside me."

Neither of them spoke. The room held the silence like a cupped hand. Then the coordinator said, very quietly, "Keep that."

During the break, Roxanne found him by the window, drinking water from a chipped mug. "Why did you add it?"

He turned the mug in his hands. "The old version made my character seem like he was protecting her by stopping her from making mistakes. I wanted him to understand the difference between helping someone and controlling them."

She recognised the distinction at once. It sat too close to things she had lived. "It works," she said. "But only if he earns it. If he’s been fussing over her for the whole scene, the line is a cheat."

"Agreed." He nodded slowly. "So he needs to back off earlier. Let her make one mistake on stage before the end."

"A small one."

"A ridiculous one."

"Not too ridiculous."

They spent the rest of the break reworking the dialogue that led to the exchange, trading pages and pencils. He stopped his character from finishing her sentences. She let hers lie about the hidden horses and get caught. They did not talk about themselves, and the conversation stayed thoughtful without turning personal. Still, Roxanne appreciated that he understood something simple and important: caring about someone gave you no right to make their choices for them.

They performed it once more, properly, from the top. The siblings argued about the ceremony and tried to escape, stalling at the gates with a series of increasingly poor excuses. At last they realised that neither wanted to leave the other alone with the family’s expectations.

"Then stop following me and walk beside me," Roxanne said.

Liam’s character sighed, as though the request were a great personal sacrifice. "Fine. But if we get caught, I’m telling everyone this was your idea."

Roxanne’s character smiled. "It was your idea."

"Then we’re both doomed."

They walked off the edge of the stage together, shoulder to shoulder.

The coordinator applauded from the bench. "That’s your ending. Keep every word."

Roxanne exhaled, and discovered she was grinning. There was a joke at the close, and the moment before it still stood whole. She felt, for the first time, genuinely ready to do it in front of other people.

As they packed up, Liam hovered by the door, hands in his pockets. "Are you still comfortable with this?"

"I am."

He looked pleased, but he did not celebrate as though he had talked her into something. "Another run tomorrow?"

"If you don’t rewrite the ending overnight."

"I make no promises."

"Then I’ll bring a red pen."

He looked genuinely alarmed. "You wouldn’t."

"Try me."

They went down the corridor together, arguing about whether a red pen amounted to artistic oppression, and Roxanne let him have the last word because she was enjoying it too much to win.

That evening, a message from the showcase organisers arrived. The performance was confirmed. Below the running order, a short paragraph announced a question-and-answer session following selected acts.

Roxanne read it twice. She could handle performing a scene. Answering questions about it before the whole academy was another matter.

She scrolled down to the final line.

Performers may be asked about the inspiration behind their work.

She stared at the screen. She had only wanted to try something new. She had not expected to be asked to explain herself afterwards.