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Mr. Danya
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Nate found himself smiling bashfully as Irene sung praises of his improv skills. ‘Legendary’ was probably overstating it, and it’s not like he did it deliberately or anything; it was just a coping tool for him, after all. Still, he didn’t mind the praise.

“I mean, Jane’s thing does sound fun and all.” He didn’t lie as debate over which scene passed between the club members, since he actually had a few ideas on how to spin the four words already. It wasn’t as if he could only use improv to save face when he tripped on a line and nothing else.

“And it’s not that I don’t think it’d be a great soliloquy,” he turned to Coleen “but it’s a soliloquy after all. Maybe we could do it later?” He was trying to be diplomatic, but truthfully it sounded a little heavy, particularly without the scene’s whole context. Maybe if he’d seen the movie it’d come across as more appealing, but listening to a dying soldier just seemed like it might be a bit of a downer to start off on.

He looked down at the script in his hand again. It’s not like they couldn’t do his scene later too, and it wouldn’t be fair to ask Coleen to wait and then insist on doing what he wanted. Besides, he still needed to read the intro over a few more times before he could claim to be ready to do it in front of the rest of the club.

“I’d be alright to do Jane’s first.” Nate half-shrugged, still keeping an eye on Coleen in the hope that she didn't look too disappointed. “We could always start now and then start again if someone shows up.” He found himself glancing at the door as he spoke, as if someone would respond to the cue and enter the scene.
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The Theatrics Formula · West Wing