cue: confusion [IT FANFICTION]

richie flashes a horde of theater kids

Okay, I was very dramatic in my last entry...

As I looked around the gathering of people outside the auditorium, I realized maybe my entire reputation wasn't about to be ruined by the crowd consisting mainly of theater kids who had no role to play in the social hierarchy of a high school.

All the same, I was still nervous about Stanley's presence at the audition. I was (regretfully) aware that he would be helping with the casting process, and would be for sure judging me the entire time I was reading lines. Richie assured me, "Sure he can be a bitch, but when it comes to theater, he's serious as fuck. That also means he can't cast based on bias."

This was surprisingly eloquent phrasing coming from Richie, but I still didn't have full faith in him when it came to Stanley. Of course, Richie had known him the longest, but I think that's because Richie cares way too much about others not being alone, no matter how bitchy and sarcastic they are, since he insists everybody does feel human emotion. (Except for some very specific people.)

Of course, I would nod and pretend to look sympathetic when it was Richie saying this, because Richie is Richie and I'm a good friend, but really I already knew Stanley very well.

A bit too well for comfort, in fact. Of course, I knew how his brain worked; I just didn't know how I fit into the equation.

Why would I care, anyway? I (mostly) knew perfectly well how he viewed me based on our interactions. So all in all, that's why I did NOT care about his opinion and I've never considered what he may think of me.

*mic drop.*

I was snapped out of this bubble on account of a loud, enthusiastic voice, saying, "Students, you may enter now!"

(In the stage direction for my epic one man show, this is where the orchestra starts playing ominous music.)

Richie had previously been talking endlessly, which I had mostly ignored until he suddenly went quiet, betraying some of his own nervousness. Unlike me, he was quite keen on being cast in the show.

As we trickled into the auditorium, the reckless confidence in my consciousness faded into a squeamish awareness of the actual situation I had found myself in; anticipating the event was one thing, but now it was nearer than ever, and all of my nervousness was soon surely going to mount.

I looked around with as much subtlety as I could muster, searching for a certain pair of judgemental hazel eyes in the crowd.

Thankfully, before I could find him and unwillingly elevate my own stress, Richie grabbed me by the shoulder and directed our group to a section of the bleachers.

Now is the bit I can't clearly recall in good memory; Instead, let me use an excerpt from "Story of My Miserable, Shitty, and Morbid Life."

Props needed: Theater kids, way too many theater kids.

[Voice offstage: We'll be going according to a first come first serve basis, so the first people who signed up will go first!]

[Richie, nervously biting his nails] Well, shit.

[Me] What?

[Richie] I forgot the monologue I'm doing.

[Me] You have a script.

[Richie] Oh. Right.

[Stage business: Chattering, insert some obnoxious singing somewhere.]

First person up: unmemorable.

Second person up: way too confident for the performance she gave.