The first noise Dominic made as his eyes opened was a sort of guttural groan, the one you make when you were deeply asleep only a second ago but now you’ve been torn into the waking world and you just know that you won’t be able to go back. He didn’t move, just stared at the blank white of his ceiling and blinked slowly. The cloud of sleep was quickly retreating and the day, with its attendant worries, was rushing in. By his right arm there was a gentle mewing and he looked down to see Toretto, his cat, nuzzling his hand. He could only want attention, however, as Dominic was sure there was food left out for him.

The second noise Dominic made was a mixture of a gasp and a curse, his eyes having found the unforgiving hands of the clock pointing to [B]You Should Already Be Gone[/B] rather than [B]No Rush[/B]. He threw back the blankets, almost sending Toretto flying, and scrambled towards the shower. In and out in under three minutes, he tried to combine towelling himself with desperately spreading whatever he could get his hands on all over some bread. So less than ten minutes after waking, he waved goodbye to Toretto and stepped out onto the street, his hair still wet and his mouth full of improvised breakfast.

The third noise Dominic made was apologetic, a mumbled excuse as he quietly let himself in just before Art’s announcement. The bus journey had been surprisingly crowded and he’d realised as he ran to catch it that his head was horribly cold and that he might have forgotten to lock the door, so his mood was a little greyer than usual when he’s finally arrived at the theatre. He felt lucky that Art had been in the process of giving something of a rousing speech to the company when he let himself in though, as no one could draw the eye of a group of people away from him quite like the director.

When Art asked for suggestions, however, Dominic made no noise. He waited for someone else to talk and heard Lucas say his piece first. Then their gentle giant, Noa, laughed, wagged a finger at the young man and said [colour=F29700]“When was the last time we put on anything classic? Most of the stuff we do these days is practically pantomime, not exactly Greek tragedy. If you’re looking for suggestions though Art, I like Lucas’s point about risk. We could do worse than putting on something people know but promise to do it in a new way. At least that way we can be sure people will know what we’re putting on but then it had better be properly new, know what I mean?”[/colour]

The fourth noise Dominic made was the first set of proper words he’d spoken that day, a coherent sentence strung together properly that other people might actually be able to make sense of. [I]”Why not a musical? I know some people here don’t love them”[/I] he pointedly avoided looking at Lucas [I]”but it would be a risk, like Art’s asking for, a risk. They’re harder to stage, take more rehearsal and would mean pushing everyone that much further. It’s a risk but… maybe it would be brilliant.”[/I] It was an unusually long speech for Dominic, like the day’s words had been saved up until then. When he was done speaking, he looked down almost subconsciously, avoiding catching anyone’s eyes.