The Show MUST Go On

Originally poster on Tumblr: Jan 1st 2024 

 

Broadway consists of theatrical performances presented in 41 professional theaters, each with 500 or more seats. People flock from all across the country and even the world to go see once in a lifetime shows. Shows that are filled with drama, comedy, action, dancing, singing or a winning combination of all of them. It’s hard not to find at least one musical that wasn’t appealing to the masses. Then again, for Elijah Jones he would never believe there wasn’t at least one musical that spoke to someone.

At least before today.

Slouched in his chair, Elijah rested his head on his fist. He was a wrestler in his hometown. A really bad one, way too skinny and the only black kid on the team, but still a jock, nonetheless. His hometown being the ‘real world’. A trip to New York City was more like traveling to a fantasy land, minus all the traffic.

Currently the teen sat in a middle row with his parents. Luckily, he was in the chair next the aisle which provided a great escape. Normally he wouldn’t even dream of leaving a musical but drastic times and all that. The dancing was great but the music, uninspired, and the plot was dull as heck. 

Elijah knew the irony in this all starting because one year he told his parents he wanted to see a musical.  Back then, he thought they’d probably have a good laugh, BUT NO his parents were so kind and supportive of it. They took him to go see Hamilton that year, which was stellar! Then Chicago…the movie was better, and one or two others. Elijah hated to admit it, but he was hooked on day one. Broadway was like crack to him now. Tell him about an old musical you love or a new one coming out he’d snort it right up. And sure, he didn’t LOVE every musical and maybe some early Sondheim he didn’t gel either. But Elijah didn’t care there was still joy to be found in just going. 

However, this show was terrible, and they were already 45 mins in.  From the synopsis the story was a merger of The Nutcracker and Disney’s Hercules, that no one asked for. There was a reason the Nutcracker was just a ballet and should have stayed that way. A big part of it was that the lead didn’t have charisma and actually kept going flat. He had a big bombastic ‘I Want Song’ at the beginning of the play and the music drowned his tiny voice out. 

Elijah’s eyelids began to droop. A loud crash rang from the stage and Elijah snapped his eyes open.  The whole audience was gasping. “Dad, what just happened?” His parents both looked confused, but his father tried to answer.

“The Prince just did a spin and fell into an opening in the stage, and it doesn’t look like it was part of the show.”

All eyes fell onto the other actors left on the stage. 

“There’s no one…. there?” One actor dressed as a Soldier exclaimed as he peered into the hole where the actor should have landed. However, his delivery started off not in character yet went over the top as if he changed his line with the last word. 

“That is right!” Suddenly a platform descended onto the stage, carrying a witch character from a previous scene, “The dark god has taken The Prince and hidden him away.” 

Elijah was cringing from the 2nd hand embarrassment; the actors were struggling up on that stage to continue. Where was the story going? The witch character had only one scene, but out of the blue she’s back?  Elijah glanced at his playbill. The story was supposed to be about the story of the lost prince who’s cursed, and the spell has to be broken so he can return home and reclaim his rightful place. 

“No, our prince is out there!” The Soldier moved towards center stage, a light following him. Unsheathing his sword the man gestured out into the audience. The light left The Soldier slowly scanning over audience members. People laughed and even let out a few giggles as it passed them by. Eventually the wandering spotlight came to a halt upon landing on Elijah. 

“Ah ha, there is our prince!”

“God no,” Elijah whispered to himself, placing a hand over his eyes to block the blinding light. The audience erupted into laughter and of course they would. Elijah would have too if the light hadn’t claimed him to be The Prince. The abrupt audience participation was so out of left field what else could they do?

“Prince, please hurry!”  The Soldier begged. 

Elijah was confused as hell that the actors kept running with it and looked over to his parents. “Our son is not The Prince.” His parents chuckled saying multiple times, even shaking their heads, but the witch’s actress utilized her mike to get the audience to encourage Elijah up on stage. Everyone began chanting ‘prince’. Elijah watched his parents get confused as to why people were chanting. The three of them exchanged quick glances that boiled down to one thing: they were all too nice to ruin the actors’ attempt at salvaging the show. Elijah made a ‘Welp’ face to his parents before standing up, playbill scrunched in his right hand.  He entered the aisle and began his trek towards the stage, the spotlight following all the way. 

No one made a sound as he went up on stage. Elijah walked on the stage but way in back of the stage behind the actors. He had spotted the musicians in the orchestra pit in front of them and had no desire to fall in. The lights were so bright on stage all Elijah could see beyond the pit was a sea of darkness. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to run now; he was a spectator; he had no business on stage. 

“Our prince ladies and gentlemen,” The Soldier put one hand out gesturing towards Elijah. “Now back to our story.”  The Soldier jogged to the back of the stage beside Elijah, then dropped to his knees. “Prince, we’ve found you, what a glorious day?”

Elijah held a tight smile whispering to his teeth, “How long do you need me up here?”

“The Prince is confused.” the Soldier hopped to his legs recoiling. “Thanks, lil dude you’re really saving our asses here.” The Soldier covered his mike to speak to Elijah while the witch proclaimed:

“Worry, not. All you must do is return The Prince to his original form. Our hero shall emerge and all will be saved.” The witch sauntered back to her platform as she raised back up into the ceiling disappearing

Of course, The Soldier clapped his hands, smiling, back into character. “Of course, our prince is still here, there just happens to be some ‘boy’ trapped around him.” The audience let out a chuckle. “If we want to get you back, we need to work on freeing you of those… underwhelming confines.” The music began to swell. “All we gotta do is build you back up to The Prince you used to be!” Off tune piano music that sounded eerily close to ‘One Last Hope’ began to play. Thankfully the music shifted into a new unknown tune.

“What’d you say?” The Soldier asked.

“🎜What do I sAYYY? 🎜” Elijah clasped his hands over his mouth.  He had meant to speak, instead he sung out the words and his voice even cracked at the end. Freaking puberty even at a time like this. 

“🎜You are the hero, my prince, my friend.
 Take up your sword and crown to save your people once again🎜.”

“🎜What do I sAYYY? 🎜🎜What CAN I SAYYY? 🎜” Eljah had made an earnest attempt to speak those lines. He truly wanted to know if he could say anything. And neither had come out in response to his wishes.

 “🎜Just say ‘YES’ And we’ll BE-GINNNNN.🎜.” The actor playing The Soldier was now bellowing, fully living in his character.

“🎜If I do will all this singing end? 🎜” Elijah felt lucky his voice hadn’t cracked again. 

The Soldier didn’t respond to the question, simply pulled out his sword and held it out by the hilt. Elijah grabbed it hoping that was the right choice. The audience cheered and the lights went off. Elijah thought he’d have a moment of reprieve as the stagehands did their work, but the lights immediately came back on, and a new scene had been established. There was a tree stump with an axe logged in it, and wooden dummies on the sides.  Drumbeats were added to the music.  

Elijah’s hands were now gripped firmly around a wooden training sword. Somehow the Soldier’s sword had returned to its sheath. The actor had his own training sword and was singing at Elijah. Even if the actor was projecting perfectly, the words muddled in Elijah’s head due to his extreme nervousness. 

“🎜You must strike strong 🎜” The Soldier swung softly at Elijah. The teen, however, barely managed to dodge it being underprepared. “🎜Strike fast. 🎜” The tempo of the song increased as he swung again. Elijah managed to lift his sword, dropping his playbill, and catching The Soldier’s sword in an awkward clash. 

“🎜I don’t know If I can last. 🎜” Elijah sung, then managed to knock The Soldier’s sword off his own. He looked at his hands, shocked he did that. Sure, The Soldier was ‘acting’, but there had been some weight behind the man’s thrust, yet Elijah parried it off himself. 

The audience let out an audible gasp. For Elijah it was a reminder people were out there, in the dark. The stage lights couldn’t hide a true and honest confession of the audience’s feelings. Elijah was glad the audience had vocalized his emotions; it was validating in a sense. Either this was all the luck he’d ever had in his life, or it was about to turn on him in some way. For all his time loving Broadway, he never thought he should be on it.

Why would he be? Here he was wearing old white sneakers, baggy blue jeans, and a long sleeve green polo on a Broadway show. Then there was the problem with his voice cracking all over the place, staying on pitch, and keeping in tune were just not in his repertoire. More importantly, more than a few minutes must have passed. Why was no one in the audience or a part of the production asking why the teenager was still on stage?

The Soldier began singing again and Elijah’s heart dropped as he raised his practice sword again. The two began feigning a fight.  It was only on the fourth swing he noticed how fluid they were moving. There was a pattern here, the two were in sync and Elijah was catching on. This whole fight was a dance. Choreographed movements set to the music, and swords that clashed right on beat. Elijah wanted to face palm on stage at how stupid he was for not seeing how obvious that was? Then again, it wasn’t as if he had ever learned these moves before, so how were his movements so graceful?

When their swords met, Elijah got a tingling sensation that would originate from his hands and fingers, then pulse through his body down to his legs. Twice it happened, fading away completely until the third time. On that third strike, the sensation stayed on his feet.  A draft came by and rolled over his shins. Elijah briefly looked down, the cooler air foreign on his skin.  A sliver of his dark skin out in the open and the long white socks he wore left bunched at his ankles. His jeans were way higher than they should have been.  People at school were definitely going to get him for his ‘highwaters’. 

The jeans kept climbing up his legs, his shins seemed determined to greet the stage. The Soldier’s sword came down again, but this time when Elijah raised his sword, his arms thrusted it out and lengthened, causing him to stop the other blade prematurely.  A look of surprise flashed on The Soldier’s face for an instance, before he went right back into swinging and singing. Some in the audience cheered and Elijah had a small smile grow on his face.  

Elijah thought someone would definitely make a statement on how his sleeves’ openings were now gradually inching closer to his elbow. Elijah would have gladly asked the actor to stop if he wasn’t afraid, choosing not to swing would get him a wooden sword to the face. Or worse If he broke back out into song. A pretend fight was hard enough to do on its own, but now with gangly limbs. Elijah awkwardly tried to reconcile his increasing height and sword, whereas The Soldier had easily adapted his swings, no longer striking down. As their swords crossed again and again, Elijah’s shirt rode up exposing his flat stomach. The tingling sensation that had stopped in his feet was gone, replaced with an aching. Elijah’s toes were pressed against the confines of his shoes. His feet were trying to find room, but there was none to give. Elijah had his tennis shoes for the past few years and hadn’t grown in that time. So, he hadn’t seen the need to get rid of them if his growth spurt would come later in school. Also walking around New York with fresh tennis? No way. 

Turns out none of his reservations mattered as his feet began to tear open the shoes, creating mouths. His toes ripped through them along with the rest of his foot and his shoes finally came apart. His feet, more akin to an ogre’s now slammed down onto the stage, crushing and burying the soles and bottoms of his former footwear.

The Soldier stopped singing and the lights went off. 

“What the? Did we just do a whole song and scene?” Elijah’s worried thoughts were interrupted by the soldier’s actor. 

“You’re a natural at this Evijah.”

Elijah knew that the actor said his name wrong but was surprised how close he got since Elijah never introduced himself. No time to ask, as the training sword got pulled from his hand by a shadow and replaced with something heavier. The stagehands were doing their thing.  The music picked back up the same theme as before, but more intense. Evijah took a deep breath; he just had to make it through this and not embarrass himself on this stage.

The lights came back on. 

The pause had given enough time for Evijah to take in what he was experiencing once his vision was back.  He was on Broadway onstage, standing at 6 ‘4, dressed in undersized clothes. Was it possible he had fallen asleep, and the musical was influencing his dream? Hopefully his parents will wake him up soon. 

The Soldier came at him and this time Evijah was ready. Evijah noticed he wasn’t bringing his sword above his head to defend anymore. He had grown past The Soldier’s height; The Soldier now had to raise his arms higher to strike Evijah.  When their swords met, they exerted a bit of force against the other. Evijah’s eyes flew to his biceps, pressing out from underneath his constrictive green polo shirt. Made even more odd as Evijah wasn’t even flexing. The little force he used was to make a good show for the audience, but his biceps were showing off. They only seemed to get bigger the longer the sword clash went. Evijah watched as his forearms expanded, choking out his sleeves’ openings. He was already too big for the shirt but now it was being stretched tight. Their swords came apart, then reconnected. Evijah heard the rips before he saw his biceps peeking through his sleeves. Holes had torn right over the firm hills of muscles that were forming. The holes only grew wider as his upper arms claimed more size.  Evijah wondered if he’d have more arms than a boy at this point.  There was no need to worry however as the growth flew into his shoulder forcing them farther apart as it moved down into his back. 

The swords came apart and Evijah dropped to his knees. He hunched over on stage, “Too much,” he said through gritted teeth.  A tear came down the back of his polo. His shoulders and increasing size of his lats were pushing everything apart. Slowly black skin emerged from under the shirt, and into the stage light. Evijah’s back rose as if it were a butterfly breaking free of its cocoon. 

“🎜 Now it time for the Curse to reverse. 🎜” The Soldier sang. The lights went down until there was nothing but darkness, pierced by a single light shone directly on Evijah. Suddenly everything happening to Evijah stopped.  Evijah lifted an arm and reached out into the darkness. The audience was deadly silent, and the music had gone low. Nothing was out there and only Evijah existed, right then right there. The music slowly transitioned into a softer piano-only melody. Evijah’s ears perked up. He recognized it from earlier in the musical, it was The Prince’s’ I want song.’  Was he being asked to sing a reprise? With his voice? That was not going to happen. Evijah got up onto his knees.  The light’s intensity had heat beaming down on him. 

Evijah looked to his left, to his right. No stage. If he tried to run there was a good chance he would fall right off and injure himself. “No, my parents are out there they can help me!” he thought.

“🎜 Mother, Father, can you hear me? 🎜” the words left his mouth as he sung sweetly. 

“🎜 It’s time for this boy to leave the Stageeee.

A man will take his place,
 The curse will end

And all will mend 🎜”

“What did I just sing?!” Evijah simply wanted to plead with his parents to take them off the stage, but it came out all wrong. At least the first half did, the second half sort of just forced its way out of his mouth.  Alright If he couldn’t just say it perhaps, he would just walk off. He began to walk Down Left; however, his walk had changed. Not because of the jeans now mimicking capris, no there was a certain air, a performance in it.  Then his body stopped and refused to go further. 

“🎜 They sAY the whole world’s a STage  

and MAybe that’s truE
 But IF I’m just anoTHER  actor,

WHaT shall I DOOOOOO? 🎜”

Evijah was trying to say, ‘Help me get off the stage.” I’m not an actor.’ However, none of that came across and his voice cracked at every line he managed to get out. Evijah noticed they weren’t completely nonsense either. It’s as if his words and body movements were confined to only things The Prince would do on stage. So, If Evjiah finished the reprise could he leave? He needed to think in the original version, the unknowingly cursed prince sings about how he feels he’s meant to do more. Now this reprise is about how he’s on the precipice of greatness all he has to do is shake off the curse.

 His mouth was still going, however, the more he sang and the longer notes he held, his throat grew. His vocal cords thickened, bringing higher notes into a deep baritone. The audience let out a cheer as if Evijah had done it on purpose, masterfully switching between ranges. The top button on his polo shirt went flying off as Evijah’s neck pried it open with ease.

Then, everyone either heard the tear or spotted the ramifications of it.  Evijah’s glutes had just popped out of his jeans with no warning. Even worse they were still swelling, gathering as much muscle as possible as it seemed. If that wasn’t bad enough, he had put on SpongeBob boxer-briefs as a joke to himself, now everyone could see them. Then his quads shredded the side of his jeans’ sides, leaving him looking reminiscent of the Hulk in daisy dukes.  His calves pulsed and grew, then kept going until they were powerful enough to challenge a horse.

Dwelling on that was impossible because his diaphragm needed a stronger core. Abs bulldozed their way to the surface, cutting and burning any fat that got in their way. 4 became 6, became 8 as a thickness overtook his torso. It rose along with whatever note he was about to belt. His chest pushed against the front of his shirt, Evijah’s back hadn’t separated it entirely. Time for that job to be completed. Evijah’s pecs came into existence under the spotlight and seemed to revel in growing more prominent.  To the point even his nipples were visible. Gone were the other two polo buttons having vanished with no fanfare. Now Evijah’s pecs forced the shirt open more by sheer force of will. Or rather there was no way a shirt built for a boy could contain the magnificent body of a man.

oohs and ahhs came from the crowd. 

Evijah got a smirk on his face that refused to go away. His chest was a scene stealer. Along with his arms they were usually the first thing people noticed about him. How could they not when he would strut through the hallways of his school and other students would make way for him. How odd was it to see a member of the wrestling team dominate the theater department?  Elijah eyebrows scrunched as he continued to sing out. Theater Department?  No one at school knew he was into musicals, and he certainly hadn’t tried out for any play. That’d be a direct town to bullying and embarrassment.  So why was it he could easily recall leading several plays? He could even envision dominating wrestlers on the mat. Evijah panicked, his mind was being filled with foreign memories, and he couldn’t stop it. Memories of being on stage and having sung for years, while staying athletic in his spare time. People talking to him as they rehearsed countless plays and musicals. “Everjah,” they’d say, “let’s duet,” “Belt it for us,” or his favorite “ENCORE!”  Everjah pondered what was false in that? It was all too real for him. 

The loss of his former memories coincided with the sudden bulge in his pants. Everjah solidified and became stronger the longer his cock grew, and balls inflated. His voice projected further as his bulge took up all the space in the front of his jeans. His shaft crawled further down his leg pulling on the underwear, until its constricted form could be seen hanging out, where the left jean leg had come off. There was new conundrum now with his bodybuilder thighs and horse-like appendage there was an extreme tightness on him.  

Everjah wouldn’t let it show of course. He was a professional. His song continues uninterrupted.  A wardrobe malfunction was a dime a dozen. Then again, this wasn’t a wardrobe malfunction… he remembered.  When the ‘curse’ breaks, he was to rip off his clothes and reveal The Prince’s wear underneath. Although Everjah’s clothes were strangely tattered. ignoring that fact he began to move down stage right. The spotlight began to change fading between colors, first to a serene teal, to a royal blue, then finally into Imperial purple. 

The clothes on Everjah’s body began to lose form when the colors shifted. The shirt was first losing color as it draped across only one shoulder and reconnected to the remaining back half. Everjah’s shorts were swallowed up, connecting to the shirt and flowing more freely. Everjah’s underwear though, soaked in the purple lighting, staining and overtaking its previous color design. The ‘Imperial’ underwear was hidden away as the shifting shorts covered it up with white fabric. As for his shoes tattered remains, they mended themselves anew with wide gaps, only forming straps as the laces faded. A toga and sandals set: The Prince’s Costume.

Everjah clasped both his hands over his head. The reprise had come to an end, and the audience was cheering. The production let the moment linger. They had to, Everjah had just fucking killed it.  He was walking sex with a killer voice to boot.  In the early days any production starring him had to reconsider their age ratings or work hard to find well-fitted costumes. These days Everjah only wore well-tailored clothes both on and off Broadway. He had too. He was always going to be the center of attention wherever he went. If not for his voice around a musical audience, it’d be his body. The least he could do was use his clothes to give people more of something to stare at.

That’s what the toga was doing for him now, One pec was left perfectly out on display, nipple vulnerable and ready for sucking. The other was hidden, yet the draping conformed so well to his body, it was basically a second skin.  The toga came down to his mid-thigh, just before the knees; short enough to have the audience salivating, long enough to provide the play willful deniability.  Though Everjah’s ass stuck out so much it made the toga a few inches shorter.  As Everjah reveled in this and the applause his body pulsed bigger.  Something got thrown onto the stage.  Everjah tried to look yet he couldn’t see past his chest. Girls with double ds and higher were going to be jealous of the rack he was sporting. Bending down he picked up the single rose that had landed at his feet. 

Standing back up, he twirled the rose in one hand taking a dramatic sniff. With that his face cracked.  The bones in his jaw began to lengthen, stretching into a much stronger shape. The once round face lost all vestiges of youth becoming sturdier and boxer.  The entire face elongated, while his cheeks sunk in, dropping fat, all exposing his sharp jawline to the crowd. Everjah’s own features turned up to eleven; his nose widened, fuller eyebrows, and his lips got thicker. Lastly, the crew cut he had disappeared, his hair burst into shimmering black coils, and a high-top fade took place. On his cheeks a faint image of a five o’clock shadow appeared before fading behind a layer of makeup. A transformation more stunning than the end of ‘Beauty and the Beast’. Truly a man in both mind and body now fit to play the role of The Prince.

God, he loved Musicals. He loved acting, singing, and dancing. He loved the people being the curtains the audience would never see. He loved the orchestra who made all the actors sound 1000 times better. He loved the theater.  And when you look like him, who would contest that. Not everyone could be a bodybuilder built for the stage, but Everjah was. Someone who truly had the muscularity for the athletic ‘lead’ roles productions wanted. A modern-day Hercules with the face of a saint, or mischievous devil, depending on the role he was playing.  

Everjah kissed the rose and threw it back out into the darkness.

Curtains pulled in across the stage hiding Everjah from the audience’s view; end of act 1. Everjah began walking backstage when he spotted a playbill right in the open. He’d bent down to pick it up wondering how long the audience had noticed it there. He had an inkling in the back of his mind to peek at the cast sheet.  There first on the sheet at the top was his head shot. A strong visage of his smiling face sure to make any man or woman swoon. Under that impeccable image sat his name in bold letters:

EVERETT CUNNINGHAM

Everett smirked he’d never get tired of seeing that. He was a man for the people. He juggled masculinity, toyed with it, and made others question just what it meant to be walking testosterone prancing on stage and wooing the audience. People would always be waiting to see what he’d do next.

Lucky for them, Act 2 was coming up.