On The Sidelines

Chapter 1

Edited

The roar of applause echoed in the theater. I stood on the sidelines, just like I always do. Everyone adores the star of the show. And yet, more often than not, the ensemble is on stage the most. The fact of the matter is, the little people should get more credit. I know how it feels to not be praised or applauded for. In all of my years of performing, not once have I gotten the lead role. My friends chalk it up to be my lack of emotion or passion. If I were as bad as they claim, why would I waste my time auditioning? Why would I be cast in the first place? At least I was good enough to get in.

However, there were some people who didn't even get in. We should take a moment to appreciate them. They didn't get rejected because they weren't, per say, not good at all. Most likely, the director just ran out of space to squeeze them in. Rejection really hurts. My best friend got turned down so many times she became depressed. Luckily, she picked herself up and got into different hobbies. She told me that she'll be coming to the last show in three days, which made me delighted and nervous at the same time. I may be on the side lines, but that doesn't get me down anymore. I'm with the big guns now, and even though I'm in the ensemble, everyone gets equal treatment.

 After almost a decade of acting, I am finally considered an equal. Only twenty-three people got in the show. To give you a sense of scope, the small selection of dancers and singers that I auditioned with was about thirty people. I heard that around one hundred people didn't get cast. I felt bad for them, but nonetheless, I was proud of myself for getting in. Apparently, the audience was happy for me, too. Their thunderous clapping filled the air. Dammit, I got side tracked on stage, yet again.

Even though most of the audience's attention was fixed on the stars of the show, I could still feel eyes on me. This was only the first show. We had three more to go, and this was just the beginning. As the curtains fell, I still had adrenaline pumping through my veins. Everyone started to file through the hallways backstage, and I made my way back to the dressing room with the rest of the ensemble. I stole a glance at myself in the changing room mirror. The lemon chiffon dress I had on was laced delicately with a white bow, which slightly disheveled from dancing. I practically tore it off rather unceremoniously. Too tight for my taste. Wiping my makeup off post haste, I pulled on my gray blouse and black jeans and booked it outside. As soon as I left the room, a sea of fans rippled over the floor until you couldn't see any bare patches at all. I didn't have to worry about being swarmed by them, I was practically unrecognizable without my gaudy stage makeup on. After every show, I made an extra effort to blend in as much with the crowd as possible. Making conversation and taking countless pictures with fans wasn't really my style. Yet, somehow I was still stopped by someone. He looked around my age with scrappy auburn hair and speckled green eyes.

"Were you in the show? Or just an audience member?" he asked me. There shouldn't have been a reason for him to know either way, so I decided to lie.

"Neither. I'm here to pick up a friend."

"Oh, sorry," he said, "I thought I had seen you on the stage." I told him it was okay and turned away. I made my way out of the crowd, waving goodbye to some fellow cast members that had already changed out of costume. As I made my way to the auditorium, someone crashed into me. I fell to the floor with a thud.

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Word count: 671