Queen of Beasts: The Fallen Book One

Too much Drama

It's a new day and I'm really excited about it. From the research that I did on Tuesday, I can tell that the school has a drama club that meets up on Thursday afternoons, I'm hoping that they're still accepting new members. The only thing I used to really enjoy back at school in L.A. was being part of the old drama club and putting on plays, singing in front of crowds and designing costumes that were fun to not only parade around and wear, but to actually design from scratch. I walk up to the big double doors which must lead towards some sort of entertainment hall. Taking a big breath, I knock and I walk in. There's a lot of students in here, at least thirty, and one who I can tell is a teacher.

"Hello," The teacher says, ", who might you be?" I take a few close steps I can see that he is quite a bit older than most of the students, tall and a tad plump, although he has been dyeing his hair black.

"I'm Amelia. I'm not sure if you're still accepting people into the drama club, but if you are, is there a chance that I might be able to audition?" The students in the room start to look around each other. Oh great, these guys have been together for ages. You can just tell, and I've somehow missed out. I just really wanted something else to distract me.

"We're always happy to accept people that have a love for the flair."

"So I don't even have to audition?"

"No, my dear. You see, the theatre has a place for everyone. Whether or not you can sing or dance or sew. At the very least, someone has to be there to draw the curtains." That's true, I suppose. "But since you are here, can you do any of those things?"

"Well, I love doing all those things and I was asked to do all those things in my last drama club. So I think I'm okay."

"Just okay? Or are you great?" One of the girls perks up and questions me. I feel like I've seen her before, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

"I've been singing for a while, so maybe somewhere in between." She raises an eyebrow at me and smirks, but then goes back to having the conversation she was originally having before I got into the room.

"Alright, listen up then." The teacher calls out to everyone. "Since there are quite a few new members this term, I think it's only fair that we give everyone a chance to audition for the role that they want to have in the upcoming play. And in case you're wondering, it's a new-age edition of Snow White." It's been a long time since I've seen Snow White, but I get the gist. Evil Queen hates fair maiden, tries to kill her. Speaking from personal experience, I know how terrible it is to know that somebody wants to kill you. "Now, before our new addition to the club arrived, we were discussing our Prince Charming."

"Not doing it." I hear the voice and my eyes begin to dart around the members of the club. As faces turn in his direction, I see him sitting there with his legs up on another chair, more occupied with his phone.

"Oliver, please, you're perfect for the role." The teacher pleads, which is met with agreement amongst the others in the room.

"I told you I'm not performing anymore. I'm here to help you with sound setup and even designing and writing music, but I am not getting up on stage."

"Voices and faces like yours do not belong behind the curtain. If you don't agree, it will take even longer for all of us to get together and actually put this play together. We only have a few weeks until the performance. Please Oliver, do it for the team." The others around the room start to urge him on as well. Asking and pleading with him to do it. What was so special about Oliver and his performances in the past, I wonder? I can understand why people think he's cute, hot even, but I haven't heard his voice, especially not in a singing way.

"Shut up." He exclaims, getting everyone in the room to remain quiet. "I'll do it on two conditions." Even the teacher leans forward in anticipation to hear what Oliver's terms are. "I will write the ending duet, and if she plays Snow White." He states matter of factly, while pointing directly at me. My jaw drops open. Why the hell would he want me to play his Snow White?

"Done." The teacher claps his hands together, but his decision is met by a bunch of dismay. Clearly the students don't like the idea of me playing Snow White when they haven't even heard me sing and I don't blame them.

"Why does she get to be Snow White? We don't even know if she can actually sing or not."

"You all agreed before Oliver even walked into this room that he should be our Prince Charming. You've all heard him sing, you've all heard him perform and you enjoy it. The fact is, if he therefore thinks that she would be the perfect Snow White for him, then who are we're to disagree?" Now my jaw is not the only one that's dropped to the floor. Our teacher, who I learn is named Peter Fasoli, then asks the others to decide which parts that they want to play and whether or not they want to be onstage or behind the curtain. He requests that Oliver and I go off into a separate area of the hall in order to discuss what we should do as part of the final duet. As I sit down next to Oliver, I start flipping through the script. It's definitely not a traditional version of Snow White, more like a modern take. It's even based in a high school. I look up at Oliver, who's just sitting there quietly and reading over his parts of the script. I can't decide right now if I should be annoyed at him for suggesting that I should play this part, or if I should perhaps be grateful for the opportunity. As I read through the script, I stop towards the end and realize the reason why he might have asked me to play this part.

"Did you insist I play Snow White just because they touch a lot?" I question him.

He still reads as he answers, "Yeah. And kiss, apparently."

"What?" After I glance at which page number he is looking at, I flip for that page myself. He's right, there is a glaringly obvious kiss scene.

"Seriously, have you never read Snow White before? I mean, the kiss is pretty much the only reason she wakes up at the end."

"No, I know. I just thought this was meant to be a modern version. You know, perhaps where the girl doesn't need the guy?"

"I think you were hoping for too much. Mr. Fasoli is quite a romantic."

"You're telling me, it says here that 'she wakes up and continues to kiss him passionately'? I also thought Snow White was meant to be a kids fairy tale."

"The original Snow White was never for kids. In fact, in the original, I don't even think they kiss."

"Well, why don't we tell Mr. Fasoli that?"

"I couldn't even get out of being Prince Charming. Do you really think I want to try and make that adjustment to the script?"

"This is kind of unfair. Why did you want me to do this?"

"Unlike everyone else, you know what I am. It's not like any other girl who took this part would be able to understand why I would need to practice touching them so often."

"I'm sorry, 'often'?"

"Squeamish, are we?"

"No, I mean, I just... I don't even know how to start with this. I thought Nolan told you I was afraid of vampires."

"He did. I just don't care." Wow, that was blunt. "The fact is, at the moment when you look at me, all you see is a vampire. And although I'm not encouraging you to see otherwise, because as a matter of fact, vampires are deadly, it would be nicer to know that you dislike me for me and not because of what I am. So can you try and do me a favor and stop picking at your cuticles while you're around me and fidgeting so aggressively?" I look down on my hands and realize that not only am I picking my cuticles, I'm also starting to tear the edges of the paper. What is wrong with me?

"Sorry, I didn't realize I was doing it." He looks out towards everybody else just to make sure that they're not too close before he leans in towards me.

"Look, I'm not trying to be a dick here. But the fact is, I just can't touch anyone. It's been a long time since I've attempted to perform on stage, but I remember enjoying it. I really don't want to hurt anyone, and I need your help. So please will you just help me?" I'm a little bit stunned by the proposal, but I suppose there is nothing much I can do about saying 'no'. I do my best to give him a small smile and nod. If I think about it, he's just one guy asking for help. In turn, it might also help me to get over my irrational fear. Then again, as I can see the side of his eyes sparkling brighter in green than they are in their brown, I wonder if that's actually the right decision.