The local theatre that Amalia Mavromichalis worked at as an actress was nothing fantastic. The costumes maybe, but the place itself not so much. It had once upon a time been a police station, but a petition from those who called the police station their headquarters requesting a better headquarters had since seen an end to the structure's days as an authorities' base. The seats were chairs that could have been acquired from anywhere, wooden chairs that would make a person run to get out of them once intermission came. The stage was literally non-existent, merely being the open space of floor before the seats where two unmoving curtains had been hung up. It was not something that Amalia liked but she hoped one day she'd make it to the National Theatre in Athens and leave the former police station behind her.
Sitting back stage, which was not as much glamorous as cramped to the point that there was only room for half of the cast, Amalia sat before a vanity, which females of the cast often had to take turns at as there was only the one and as for the chair it was more of a stool, an uncomfortable one but Amalia was ignored the discomfort quite well. Looking at her reflection in the mirror and sitting in her dancing girl costume, which was the breast band and loincloth, she could only think about how different George was from other foreigners who had spoken of Atlantis. He had no bald spot, he had no bad teeth, no beer gut and best of all he was young, teenaged like herself, not someone forty or older. Now if only she could get rid of the English Girl that George seemed to be sweet on, Angel or Angelique, or whatever it was. A few hours later and she couldn't even be bothered to remember her rival's appellation.
"Oh, George…" She said, her eyes closing as she imagined being in his arms. "Can you ever forgive me for the deception?"
"Not a chance."
Amalia opened her eyes in alarm. Looking into the mirror, she could see George and the English Girl standing behind her. Turning around, she opened her mouth to speak but could not find the voice to say anything. Things got worse for her when her brother showed up in the doorway behind them, now dressed as he usually was. Otto had no love for lounging around in costume like his sister did and so was wearing a white shirt and a brown pair of trousers once more.
She expected Otto to defend her, unfortunately all he said was: "You went off script, little sister. This is all on you." And with that, Otto left the scene.
"I hoped this wasn't the case." George said quietly. "Why would you deceive us like that?"
"How did you find out?" Amalia asked, looking to the floor.
"Our friend Lin took a picture of you and asked around about you after developing it." Angela answered.
"That little Japanese girl?" Amalia asked, looking Angela in the eye in shock. She had never been opposed to having her picture taken before, if someone with a camera took a picture of her it meant her comeliness would be spread. Amalia would have never expected that her lack of opposition to having her picture taken would be her downfall.
"She's Chinese!" George snapped. It was the usual response someone would call Lina Japanese and one of the other adolescent devisees would snap back that she was Chinese. Similarly, someone would dismissively call George British, New Yorker or German and one of the other adolescent devisees would snap back that he was Canadian.
"Right, Chinese…" Amalia muttered, not even caring about the difference.
"Now how about an answer on why you deceived us?" George inquired.
"My brother and I had been doing it for a while." Amalia answered, avoiding eye contact with George. Her tone didn't even seem to indicate she cared she had been deceiving people. "You and Angel here—"
"Angela! Her name is Angela!" yelled George, his voice filled to the brim with anger. This had never happened before but Amalia not even bothering to remember Angela's appellation was something that made his blood boil.
Wincing, Amalia continued to avoid eye contact. She felt her tears begin to fill her eyes upon realization that any hope for a romance with George, even a brief one, was impossible.
"T-The two of you were number thirteen… The thirteen group of foreigners talking about Atlantis that we tricked. We had found that air pocket some time before even the first one, out deception quickly evolved, the trident symbol was added later as was the backstory, the necklace… I was tired of them mostly being middle-aged men with bald spots, bad teeth and beer guts that only my brother could look at without feeling disgusted. Then you and your friends arrived and I wanted you, George. I—"
"You what? Love me? You haven't known for a day! I may believe love at first sight can happen but from what you are saying it sounds more like you are in love with the idea of being in love with a visitor to Crete than this having been love at first sight."
"You're right and there is more than that…" Amalia confessed. "I'm tired of being me. I'm tired of being the girl always in the dance scenes but never the main focus, I want to be the star, not the background and if I have to live a fantasy and deceive people so be it."
"Poor thing…" Angela uttered under her breath. She was not being sarcastic, she felt genuine sympathy for the girl.
George felt sympathetic as well. As much as he was angry and had been made uncomfortable by Amalia's kiss, he did not have a heart of stone and so he asked: "Would you like to show us around, you and your brother, or just you if you'd prefer to be the one to do all the talking."
"We're sure there is no one better to show us around than you, Amalia." Angela said with a warm voice.
Tears streaming down her cheeks, Amalia looked up at both of them. "A-Are you serious?"
"Of course, we are." George answered. "Just don't try to kiss me or deceive us and everything should be fine."
Amalia took a moment to think. Was the forgiveness of these two genuine? She had always expected harshness if she were to explain how she felt, tired of being the background, just one of the girls in the dance scenes… Maybe this was her chance to escape the fantasies, give up deception.
"How long will you all be here?" Amalia asked.
"The Thetis will be here for a week so once the time is up, we will leave Crete." Angela answered.
"The Thetis?" Amalia stood up. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. "As in Richard Hamilton's ship?"
"Uh, yes?" George asked, taking a small step back. Where was Amalia going with this?"
"I can't believe I just deceived people who travel with Richard Hamilton." Amalia once again sat down upon the stool, hands upon her head and eyes wider than an owl's. "Oh, I need to make up for this. I will show you two around, you two your friends, anyone from the Thetis."
"Please, you don't need to think of it as making up for something." Said George.
Alas, George's words fell on deaf ears. No matter how much George or Angela insisted that Amalia did not have to make up for what she had done, she would insist that she did.