Waiting in the Wings

By Tara Frejas

At twenty-three, theatre actress Erin Javier has yet to fall in love or kiss a boy offstage, away from the klieg lights. She is the perfect leading lady—whose heart men would fight for, win, and protect—unfortunately, only until the curtains fall and the lights go down. In real life, Erin is a certified NBSB whose heart has been hoping for a song to dance to.

But when two (two!) men enter from stage left and right, Erin is confused. Who deserves to take center stage in her heart—Mr. Theatre Royalty whose attention and displays of affection make her pulse race, or a good friend whose steady support has helped steer her to success and fulfill her dream?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tara Frejas
• Release date: Feb 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781717135001

Book preview

Waiting in the Wings

Contents

Before you proceed…

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Himig ng Pag-uwi

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Erin’s Waltz

Epilogue

First Date Fiasco

Special Thanks

Special Thanks

About the Author

Books by Filipino Authors #RomanceClass

Waiting in the Wings is a work of fiction. While inspired by real people and events, the story, characters, and incidents depicted in the book are fictitious.

Copyright © Tara Frejas, 2017 and 2024. All rights reserved.

Cover design and lettering by Miles Tan

Photography by Chi Yu Rodriguez

Models: Marynor Madamesila and Gio Gahol

Edited by Layla Tanjutco

Proofread by Rix Forto

With special thanks to Ines Bautista-Yao and Jay E. Tria

Before you proceed…

Hello and thank you for picking up a copy of the 2024 edition of Waiting in the Wings, originally released in February 2017.

While there are scenes which have been tweaked and/or added, no major changes have been made in the narrative. The story is still set in a pre-pandemic world, and our main characters still get their Happy Ever After in the end.

Please be warned that the book mentions the following:

Body/image insecurity and subtle bullying (backstory) because of an autoimmune disorder called alopecia areata

Alcohol-fueled sexual assault

This book follows the #RomanceClass guidelines requiring HEA/HFN for romance and is Heat Level 0 (no sex on or off the page).

To anyone who’s heard more noes than yeses

And anyone who’s become accustomed to waiting

I wish you only beautiful things

And for all the Erins, Ramons, and Pios of the world—

Thank you for letting me live vicariously through you.

Chapter One

Lord, me when?

So thought Erin Javier, mesmerized by the rock Hiraya Cosculluela wore on her finger. It was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. Not too huge, and definitely not tacky. Marquise cut in white gold, the simple elegance of the shiny little thing fit Hiraya’s bright, no-fuss-no-frills personality to a T. And while the newly engaged playwright didn’t deliberately flaunt the diamond, Erin thought its mere presence mocked her.

It was a her problem.

None of the other Teatro Lakambini company members inside the war room seemed to mind that a precious little symbol of a promised life together was in their midst. Everyone else was focused on the script for Hanggang Ulap, the new musical they were staging next. Some were reading silently, and others were huddled in small groups, already engaged in discussion.

She flipped a page on her script, closed her eyes, and sighed. Focus, Erin. Focus.

Anything the matter, babe?

Fire engine red highlights in Hiraya’s hair caught Erin’s eyes first when she looked up at the woman who eyed her curiously.

Erin shook her head. Nope, all good. Why?

Hiraya pouted and tilted her head to the side, eyes still fixed on Erin. She always seemed to be trying to figure people out, and Erin was one of her favorite subjects.

Script stressing you out? The playwright puckered her lips toward Erin’s hand, which was restlessly tapping a pen against the edge of the work table.

Erin stared at the pen as though it was an alien object and let it go. She didn’t even realize what she was doing.

You can be honest with me. That’s what workshopping this piece is for, after all.

Ate H, you know I love your work, and this is no exception. It’s just…kind of depressing? Erin bit her lip. She really had no problem with the script, but she knew her theatre big sister and confidante wasn’t going to let her off the hook if she didn’t give an appropriate response.

In this case, of course, the appropriate response didn’t necessarily mean the truth.

You’ve read through to the end, right?

I did, but…this part with the soldier is just really sad.

"Says the girl who pitched Chronicles of a Breakup. Do you know how difficult that was to write?"

Erin pursed her lips and nodded. Touché.

A Teatro Lakambini original musical, Chronicles of a Breakup told three intertwined stories of people who were on their way to break up with their significant others. Erin had pitched the idea during her first integration workshop three years ago, and the writing team eventually picked it up for development. The project paved the way for Erin and Hiraya’s friendship and launched Erin’s career as a full-fledged theatre actress as well.

Hiraya reached across the table to pat Erin’s hand. I’ll write a happier one next time, she said with a playful wink.

"Something like Karaoke Queen again please?"

They both giggled at the mention of the campy jukebox musical they staged last year. "Oh god, yes. That was so much fun, we have to do it again." Hiraya flashed her a thumb up, and Erin found herself staring at the diamond ring once more.

Hiraya’s boyfriend, Jericho Abueva, had proposed three nights ago during the final curtain call of Ang Mga Manghahabi. It hadn’t been as fancy as Erin had imagined, but perhaps that was just the grand-gesture-loving hopeless romantic in her speaking. The moment the musical director had gone up on stage and down on one knee, not even the complete lack of pomp had stopped Erin from swooning and crying and cheering with everyone else in the theatre.

Backstage, by her lonesome, she had cried a little more…but nobody had to know that.

Erin had long been feeling hyperaware of the couples around her, but that proposal lit a fire of longing in her heart.

How was she so unlucky in finding love? Her college friends—all taken. Even her closest friends in the theatre industry have either found romantic partners or are actively exploring the dating scene.

And then there was her: Erin Javier, the perfect leading lady.

She was someone whose heart you fought for, whose affection you won, whose love you protected—but only on stage. On average, her romances lasted two hours a day. Four, if she did both matinee and gala shows. But when the curtains fell and the lights shut down, her love affairs ended too.

Was there something wrong with her? Why did men only fall in love with her just because it said so in the script? Was she so unattractive that she only got kissed because a scene called for it?

Yes, babe?

Erin blinked, only then realizing she had been staring at Hiraya this whole time. Should she bare her thoughts to her Ate? Hiraya would surely drop anything for her if she SOS-ed somehow, but this wasn’t a real emergency. This was her being whiny at the world. And she wasn’t about to drag her friend down from cloud nine just because she was tired of her singlehood. That’s just wrong.

So instead, Erin left her seat and cozied up to Hiraya, perching her chin on the woman’s shoulder. It allowed her to peek at the playwright’s notes, gave her a glimpse at how her mind worked.

I like this song, Erin said, pointing to a page with Himig ng Pag-uwi written on top of it. On the margins were a couple of notes in red ink and pencil, Hiraya and Jericho’s handwriting. I think it’ll be the best song in this musical.

You think so?

Mm-hmm!

I have Jer’s preliminary arrangement. Do you want to listen to it?

Sure!

Sharing a pair of earphones, they listened to the song that spoke of longing to see your beloved, no matter the odds. Jericho’s piano arrangement was still raw, but Erin heard its potential. She could already imagine the musical director acquiring the help of a string quartet to lend a more desperate, haunting feel to the piece.

"I would love to hear you sing this," Hiraya said, smiling hopefully at her.

Erin returned a grateful smile. She was, by no means, the best singer in the company. Her voice wasn’t as powerful as Iris Sandoval’s, and Andrea Lopez had better technique than her. But she’d been told that whatever she lacked in vocal prowess, she made up for with stage presence. A newspaper critic once waxed poetic at how masterful she was in telling stories with her voice, her face, her body.

Which was why, even as she continued training to be as good as Iris and Andrea, Erin became a casting favorite.

Yes, she thrived on stage and lived for every moment she had to breathe life into a character, but she now felt apprehensive about playing another woman in love.

For five consecutive productions now, Erin had always played the leading lady—the girl who refused to break up with her high school sweetheart, the kolehiyala trapped in a love triangle, the working lady asked to choose between love and family, and so on.

She had fallen in and out of love so many times, and she was only twenty-three. How was it possible to feel exhausted with romances that were never even real?

We’ll see, Erin simply replied, unable to give a straightforward no. Hiraya would probe for sure, and Erin wasn’t certain she had a good enough reply.

The decision’s been made, though.

The next time Erin Javier falls in love, she isn’t going to be wearing someone else’s clothes, or answering to a name that isn’t hers. Her love story was going to be spontaneous and completely unscripted. There won’t be any musical scoring and dramatic lighting, no matter how enchanting they can be. No audience was going to watch with bated breath, waiting to applaud.

Because the next time Erin Javier falls in love, she will be herself. And all she’ll be needing was her and the special person on the receiving end of her first real kiss.

Chapter Two

"M r. Figueroa, you are aware we’re not as financially stable as the other theatre companies out there, aren’t you?"

Yes, ma’am.

Sometimes we put productions on pause or shelve them completely when we don’t get proper funding.

I understand, ma’am. Don’t worry—I know what I’m getting into.

Milagros Espeleta, also known as Mamu to her peers and protégés, adjusted her reading glasses, as though making sure she was reading his resume correctly. Interesting, she mused aloud, then got up on her feet. Your credentials could easily earn you an in-house artist post at Alistair Productions or Indigo Theatre, and yet you chose to come to Lakambini.

Thank you. That’s high praise, coming from you, ma’am.

Come and walk with me.

Ramon Figueroa nodded and followed the Teatro Lakambini director from her second-floor office to a flight of stairs that led to a spacious, almost-bare corridor. She kept walking, but Ramon couldn’t help but feel she was dragging her feet.

The fifty-something-year-old woman—the unwavering force behind Lakambini’s steady success despite numerous financial challenges as well the blossoming of new, better-funded theatre companies—was silently trying to get him to rethink his life choices.

Finally, they stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall. Taped to it was a piece of bond paper that had "Hanggang Ulap Workshop" scribbled across it.

A playful smile appeared on Mamu’s face when she turned to look at him. Something tells me you’re here not just for the love of the art.

Ramon’s lips parted as if to protest, but only nervous laughter came out.

The woman waved his resume in the air, as if telling him to stop racking his brain for a response. I would be very happy to consider you part of our little family, Ramon.

Thank you, ma’am.

You can call me Mamu, she said and held her hand out to him. Welcome to Teatro Lakambini.

An unbelievable feeling of triumph filled Ramon’s chest as he shook Mamu’s hand. Overwhelmed, he stumbled over his words as he reassured her that he would be doing his best for the theatre company. Mamu laughed and let his hand go.

I will hold you to that promise, Ramon. But for now, I need to announce something to the kids. Lifting a hand to the side of her lips, she whispered, We just received funding for the next Lakambini musical.

Oh, that’s great, ma’am! I mean M-mamu…

I know! The Alvez Foundation for the Arts is a godsend. They’re giving us a hundred percent! Mamu put her hand against her chest and let out a relieved sigh. You stay here. I’ll introduce you to the kids after this.

After Mamu stepped into the room, Ramon sat on a wooden bench near the door. Drumming his fingers against his knees, Ramon wondered where this new journey would take him.

Applying as Teatro Lakambini’s in-house choreographer wasn’t a decision made on impulse; he wasn’t wired that way. Every step he’d taken in his life so far had been a result of calculated choices, and this was no exception. When Mamu supposed he wasn’t here only for the love of the art, she wasn’t entirely off the mark.

Boisterous cheering from inside the room disrupted Ramon’s thoughts, making him grin. They sounded as if they just won a trophy from Gawad Lagablab, the most respected award-giving body in the local theatre scene. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to single out a voice he dearly missed from the mishmash of voices that now flooded the entire hall.

Hijo…

He looked up to see Mamu peeking out of the door, beckoning to him with a gentle nod. Taking a deep breath, Ramon sprung to his feet, thrilled and anxious to meet everyone.

To meet Erin again.

There’s someone I’d like you kids to meet…, he heard Mamu say. The chatter inside the room slowly died down when he stepped inside, cautious, as though expecting an attack in case they didn’t like him. His eyes scanned the room and the faces that looked up at him in anticipation, each of them unfamiliar.

Save for one.

Go ahead, hijo…introduce yourself.

Ramon clasped his hands together to tamp down his anxiety, his eyes trained on Erin Javier, seated at the back of the room. He recognized uncertainty in her eyes when their gazes met.

He couldn’t blame her.

Hi, everyone. I’m Ramon Elias Figueroa.

Oh my god, Ramoncito!

Relief flooded Ramon’s chest when his college moniker flew out of Erin’s lips. When everyone else in the room turned their heads to look at her, she let out an awkward laugh and fumbled for an explanation. Ramon found it difficult to hold back a grin.

Maka-Ramoncito! someone