[Yeah, if Bruno had been dragged on stage and Trish had to look him in the eye? It would be over. There is no elegant and graceful way to dance with a capo and there is absolutely no possibility anyway that Bruno Bucciarati would entertain the idea of improv OR dancing.

Trish would rather perish on the spot than entertain any variety of salvaging such a scenario. Hell, she'd walk off first and leave him there - make him deal with the awkwardness!

But fortunately for everyone, he shows up late, enough she only glances at him, unsurprised to see him leave after. Likely, he's checking up on where she had gone, and nothing more.

But when she's left alone on the stage, he's back, and she wrinkles her nose, rasping:]

They're too young to feel shame yet.

[She eyes the canteen, thinking, often, about how everything here is shared, but she's so thirsty and she finds it's even more embarrassing to sound like a frog trying to talk, so she takes it without complaint, downing half the thing. Once she's cleared her throat, she offers it back to him, admittedly curious that he returned. It wasn't like she was doing anything interesting...]

You and I both know that was terrible. I haven't been in a play since I was thirteen.

[WHICH WASN'T THAT LONG AGO? TRISH?]