The door to the studio opened and a breathtakingly beautiful man entered the room. He was dressed in period clothes as was Jocelyn: a black silk bag-sleeved shirt, green leggings and black leather boots that came up to the top of his thighs. His chestnut hair was gorgeous and rich, shot through with deep reds the color of fine wine, and falling in shining waves to the broad expanse of the middle of his back.
“This is Nikolai,” Madame Lina waved toward him, her usual façade of stone softening as she displayed him, “my son. You are to follow his lead as you act. He has a scenario to play out, and you are his partner. You are the same character from the monologue, but now the words are your own. Trust your instincts and act upon them; do not hesitate and do not judge yourself. Let th
