Folie

Act I, Scene 6

Pete groaned as the phone's ringing plunged daggers into his eardrums. He looked at the clock - 10 am. Way too fucking early on a Saturday, he thought. The phone didn't seem to agree, though, so he debated whether or not he should answer, or simply mute it. After seeing the caller ID, he decided he had no choice.

"Where are you?" the voice shouted frantically, before Pete could even answer.

"At home, where else? It's Saturday, dude. Why are you calling so early."

"First of all, it's not early, and second of all, you're supposed to be here helping us get ready for auditions, which, if I may remind you, start in two fucking hours. Patrick got here early, but you're still in bed!"

"Of course he did," Pete muttered, while trying to verbally convey an eye roll, "I'll be there in a few minutes, Brendon," he said.

"And exactly what ti-click." Pete hung up and put the phone on mute. He was beginning to regret agreeing to work with Brendon. He always seemed so optimistic and easy-going, despite how ever many projects he was working on. Pete had never done a project with him before, though, so he hadn't seen this side of him until recently.

With an operatic groan, Pete rolled out of his half-bare mattress and stretched, tired bones crackling as he moved. He stumbled over a pile of dirty clothes on the floor, unable to see in the lack of sunlight. Reluctantly, he pulled back his black-out curtains, and the morning sun rushed in, drenching his naked body in unrelenting daylight. The fact that anyone could now see him nude didn't even occur to him.

Moving at sloth-like pace, he searched for wearable clothes in another heap on his desk. After a few minutes of sniff-searching, he began to wonder how much time had passed since he last did laundry. Finally, he discovered something decent, and made his way to his  shower.

---

"Just because I live with him doesn't mean I'm his caretaker," Pete could hear Patrick telling Brendon as he entered the audition room.

"Yeah, you're right. Speak of the devil!" he replied, visibly relaxing as he noticed Pete, "there you are! Well, we already finished setting up, now we're just waiting until people start getting here."

"So I didn't need to get up this early," Pete mumbled under his breath, still grumpy from waking up. He really needed some coffee. "So, where do you want me, guys?"

"Right here, between me and Brendon," Patrick said from his chair on one side of the makeshift judges' table the boys had set up in the back of the room.

"Want some coffee, dude?" Brendon asked.

"God, please," Pete said. He held back the temptation to ask how Brendon's mood could return to normal so quickly.

Pete took his seat next to Patrick while Brendon poured coffee at the refreshments table. Pete grimaced, knowing that Patrick would begin to lecture him as soon as he settled in his chair.

"What the hell took you so long," Patrick spat, "did you just completely forget about auditions, or what?"

"I don't know, I guess I forgot to set an alarm or something. I'm sorry, you don't have to jump down my fucking throat."

"I'm sorry, Pete, it's just you had us worried. Plus, it didn't help that Brendon was an anxious mess, making me anxious with him, and that he even tried blaming me for you not being here."

"I'm sorry, Patrick. You're right. I still don't see why I need to be here anyway, though, I'm not a theater person. I don't know what to look for in an audition."