Twenty-One Roses

Twenty-One RosesThe Memphis Players Book 1Brooke St. JamesParkside Press Copyright © 2023 Brooke St. JamesAll rights reservedThe characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. Contents Title PageCopyrightChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20EpilogueAbout The AuthorBooks By This Author Chapter 1Bailey Collins***Memphis, TennesseeSpring BreakAprilWithin minutes, I would come face-to-face with five of my best friends from back home in Memphis. It had been years since this happened. I moved away for college three years ago, and since then, my visits had been so sporadic and so oddly timed that it was the first time the entire group of us had gotten together since I left town. I had been in touch with all of them individually and seen them all when I had come home on different visits, but it had been far too long since we had all been together, sitting around the same table at a restaurant.They were five of my closest friends, and I knew them through acting. I had been into musical theater since I was ten years old, and we had spent countless hours in each other's presence at rehearsals and shows. I currently lived in California where I had a whole new group of theater friends, but there was nothing like getting the old gang back together.I could see my friends as I walked into the Italian restaurant. They were already in our regular booth—one of the two big, round ones in the back."Hello, welcome to Al Forno." The hostess smiled at me when she spoke, and I gestured toward my friends."Thank you. I see my friends. They're already here.""Oh, are you sitting at Owen and Malcolm's table?" She straightened her hair.I glanced her way when she said that. I tried to place her, but I had never seen her before. "Yes," I said, smiling even though everything about the encounter made me feel out-of-the-loop.I could see the faces of Owen, Gina, and August when I glanced at the table. Sasha and Shep were there too, but they had their backs turned to me. August whistled when he saw me. We were in a crowded restaurant, and he shamelessly whistled a cat-call that made me shake my head and squint at him."Don't even," I mumbled, mouthing the words and looking straight at him, smiling as I walked that way to the table."You look hot," August said, once I made it there."Smokin' hot," Shep agreed, turning to look at me as he stood.They were both lying, teasing me. They all moved as I came to stand at the side of the table. Shep and August were at the edges of the booth, and they both stood up to offer me a spot. The others moved and shifted in a brief moment of chaos as I greeted them.I made eye contact with Sasha, who was August's sister and also my neighbor growing up. They were the ones who had gotten me into musical theater in the first place. Their parents had moved to a different house when we were in high school, so I didn't see them around the neighborhood anymore when I went home. I smiled at Sasha, and then I turned, staring into Shep's big, dark brown eyes. "The girl at the hostess stand called you Malcolm," I said to him.He didn't have time to respond because August was standing right there, waiting for a hug. I leaned that way and embraced him. He was tall and bony, and felt nothing like Shep or Owen, but it was a nice, warm hug. I loved August. I loved all of these people. It was amazing to be back home. I sat down and got settled on Shep's side."That hostess comes to our shows," Shep explained."Yeah, she goes to all of them," Gina added. "I know her, I've seen her there. Her dad owns this place, and they're customers at the print shop."Sasha nodded. "She calls Shep 'Malcolm' because he's using that name with his cast bio now. She only knows him from the shows, so she called him Malcolm right when she saw him."I looked at Shep for an explanation, and he shrugged. "I'm not writing Shep Shepherd in the bio anymore," he said. "I get too many questions about it… why would your parents name you Shep if your last name is Shepherd?""People ask that?""Yes. Constantly.""That's hilarious. They don't know it's a nickname because of your last name?""No. They don't," he said, dryly."It's funny that she only knows you as Malcolm. I had to think about it for a second when she first said that name. It sounded so impressive.""Are you saying Shep's not impressive?" he asked, raising his eyebrow in a joking manner and making fun of his own nickname."Where have you been?" Gina asked, looking me over curiously.She was the blonde-haired blue eyed version of me. She had a slightly higher vocal range to match her lighter hair and eyes.She smiled, looking me over. "You only wear your hair in French braids if you're doing heavy labor."I laughed and sat back in the booth so that I could flex my muscles. Gina was a year older than me, and we had always been supportive of each other yet still competitive. We had vied for some of the same roles over the years, but she was nothing but encouraging when I started getting scholarship offers. These five were my support system while I was in high school. Owen and I had even dated for a while.We were all part of a large community theater company called the Memphis Players. It was an all-ages theater company, and we