Acting On Love

I don't think I'd ever felt as tired as I felt that morning. I'd barely snatched up a wink of sleep all night. And even when I did, I only dreamed of him. I didn't bother with breakfast that morning, and instead went straight to my first class. Perhaps he'd still be there - maybe there was some rule about having to give a teacher a week's notice before they are fired from their job?

I told myself not to count on it, and I was glad I that I hadn't. When I reached the theatre, there was already a few other students there, but no Ville. Instead, there was a middle-aged man, who I faintly recognised from seeing him around the theatre area a few times before. He stood against the bottom of the stage with his arms folded, staring coldly at the chattering students before him.

I went to sit down on one of the theatre chairs, away from the other students. The theatre didn't look right without Ville. It didn't even look like the theatre to me anymore.

As soon as the rest of the students had turned up, the middle-aged man stepped away from the stage, and took a few steps towards us. He looked around a little before he began to talk.

"I'm afraid to say that your old acting teacher has been made redundant," his eyes stopped on me for a second as he said this. A few students sitting in the chairs around me groaned with disappointment. If only they could imagine how much it affected me! The man continued to talk. "A far as I am aware, I will be continuing your lessons with you, as long as it fits in with the rest of my time-table."

He stepped towards the chairs and began to ask something to some of the students. That was when I lost interest. I knew I couldn't wait for the end of the day to see Ville. I decided to wait for the end of the 'lesson' and just ditch the rest of the day. I was already in enough trouble - a little more wouldn't matter.

The lesson went by very slowly. He stood up at the front the whole time, asking what we'd covered and what we'd done. He wasn't very impressed with (as he put it) how "little" Ville had taught us. He left the room to go and retrieve something. He came back a few minutes later with a batch of printed sheets. As he handed them out to us, he explained that everything we would need to know to pass was on those sheets. I tried to read mine, but I couldn't concentrate enough to do so. My mind was diverted to thinking things such as 'Ville's lessons are so much better than this,' and 'Who the hell is this guy?'

Eventually, though, the lesson did end. I grabbed my bag as soon as I heard the bell ring, calling me away. The rest of the students began to leave in a similar fashion. He was still insistent in telling us things we would need to cover in the next few months for our first examinations, though. He even shouted out the work he wanted us to do that night as I was leaving the room.

As soon as I was outside in the winter air, and had left the other students behind me, I broke off into a run. I didn't stop running until I was out of the gates of the university. I caught my breath as I walked through the town, finally feeling like I could get to Ville's house blindfolded. It was as if the address had suddenly floated up to the surface of my mind - like my heart had somehow ordered it to.

But my eyes nearly scared me to death as soon as I reached the right block of apartments. Where the quiet pathway should have been, which I'd once walked up with him, there was instead a pathway bustling with men carrying furniture into the doorway, struggling with sofas, and heaving wardrobes. My heart couldn't take much more of this. . .

I quickly ran up to one of the men who was standing by a van of furniture, watching the other men carry things inside.

"What is this?" I gasped.

He turned to look at me and frowned, as if there was something wrong with my intelligence. I decided to continue.

"I mean. . . who's moving in?"

"Some couple that's been waiting for one of these apartments to be available for months. . ." he murmured, uninterested. He watched his men again as if I wasn't there.

"Which apartment?" I asked, hoping it was all just a misunderstanding.

"Top floor one."

No. I had to take a deep breath to steady myself from collapsing right there and then.

"Uh. . ." my voice shook. "What's happening to the old owner?"

"Owner? These are rented apartments. . . land lord says he's been struggling to pay his rent for a good while now. Was quite happy to get him out of there as soon as he found out he'd got no job. Gone off to somewhere in Europe. . . Good riddance, if you ask me. We already have enough immigrants as it is!"

"You didn't know him," I said quickly, defending him. But I could feel the tears in my eyes, and I could see that this man noticed it, too, as his face softened slightly as he turned to look at me again.

I turned away from him and began to walk slowly away from the apartment, begging myself not to turn around and look at it again. I felt like I was going to be sick. My throat as if it had been cut open - it hurt that much. And I could no longer control the tears which were streaming down my scolded cheeks.