War On Earth

Chapter 3: Audition for Hell

First period class comes and goes and so does the rest of the day. Mark was sitting in his desk, taking notes on what was on the whiteboard. He tried his best to write neatly but without his glasses, he was as blind as a bat. The final bell rings for the day, a voice rang out from the intercom, "We hope your first day at Granite Hills High School was joyful and full of learning! Please remember, theatre auditions will take place in 10 minutes in the auditorium. Break a leg!". The students hurried out of the classroom, eager to go home. Mark packed up his things in his backpack and quickly walked to the auditorium, not wanting to be late to auditions.

As he opened the double doors to the auditorium, he saw that a group of students and an elderly teacher with brown hair that was beginning to fade were up on the stage. The aging teacher was giving a speech to the group about the upcoming auditions, she finally noticed him and waved to him to come to her. "Mark Reed! Come here please!" her voice echoed through the empty auditorium.

"Coming, Miss. Bloom!" Mark runs up the stairs and joined his fellow thespians. "Thank god, you're here! I cannot find Deena anywhere. She knows how much she needs to be here for auditions, she's the president of our theatre troupe!" Miss. Bloom screams out to the group in rage. They all try to calm her down but that only results in the teacher getting more frustrated. "You all do not understand!" The elderly woman claimed, "Deena is in charge of judging the auditions today. Now, there's no one else that can do it."

"Miss. Bloom, I could be in charge, if you'll let me." Mark raised his hand, everyone else in the group dratted their eyes towards him. Everyone, including Mark, was waiting anxiously for the teacher's response. Miss. Bloom gazed at him and grinned widely, "Oh, yes! You're the stage manager! Will you please do this, Mark? It would be a big help."

"Anytime to help out the troupe." Mark had a relief tone in his voice.

"Thank you, Mark. Everyone, get ready. The auditions will start soon and every student has a job to do."

In less than 5 minutes, a line of students was waiting outside the auditorium. Half of them were nervously rehearsing lines from the scripts handed out to them. While the other half were hoping to get backstage for community services hours. It was a well-known fact among the theatre troupe that nobody willing does back stage work is serious about theatre. It was Mark's job as stage manager to make sure that everyone backstage was doing their job and not slacking off.

Mark was sitting down in an uncomfortable chair in one of the practice rooms backstage with a clipboard, ready to judge the auditions. There was a knock on the door, "Come in!" Mark stated. Tyson opened up the door and entered into the room, Mark smiles at the sight of his best friend and stands up, "Tyson, you know you don't have to audition. You're the best sound guy we ever had, you're always welcomed back stage."

"That's what I wanted to talk about..." Tyson closed the door behind him and looked at his friend straight in the eye, "I'm not gonna be backstage for this show or any show really.". He takes a deep breath, "What I mean is, I'm not going to do theatre anymore.".

"Wait, why?" Mark expression completely changed and Tyson's statement made him confused. "Well, Coach Vic asked me to be captain of the volleyball team. He said that I would have to devote all my time to this sport. So, he made me choose-" Tyson rubbed his neck, his habit for whenever he got nervous. "Volleyball or theatre. I chose volleyball." Tyson walked closer to Mark and stuttered out, "Mark, you know how much those two things mean to me but I really need a scholarship and the only way to do that is-".

"Tyson, I get it, ok?" Mark slumped into the chair, "It's just that, we have no classes together and theatre is basically the only time we get to hang out." He looked back at Tyson, "But it's whatever, you gotta do what you gotta do. I can't stop you from that but I just wished you would stay in theatre with me for our senior year."

"I wish so too, man" Tyson takes a seat next to Mark, "But, we're still cool, right?"

"Yea, we're still cool." Mark slightly smiled through the pain.

"Thanks, Mark." Tyson pat the thinner teen on his shoulder. He opened the door to leave but stood there a few seconds, he looked back, "Thanks for everything, Mark. Text me when you're home, ok?" With that, Tyson left.

Mark frowned and fought the urge to cry. Theatre was special to Mark and Tyson; it was where they met. It was in 6th grade, where they both did back stage for community services hours. It was their friendship that made them continue theatre through middle and high school. Mark reminisced all the fun moments that had together during theatre. How they played around with the soundboard, going away to theatre competitions, or wished each other good luck before a major performance. All of that was now gone. Mark felt like a knife stabbed him through his heart. His vision became even blurrier and a tear falls down his cheek.

There was another knock on the door followed by a voice, "Mark-" It was Miss. Bloom, "Are you ready to judge your first audition?".

"Yes, Miss. Bloom. Tell them to come in." Mark swiftly swiped his tear away and put on a fake smile on his face.

Judging auditions was more tiring than Mark thought. "How does Deena do this for every show?", he says to himself. There were only a few good auditions but the others ranging from terrible to decent at best. For this one audition, he had to listen to this freshmen girl sing off-key to the infamous musical number, "Popular". During that audition, his ear drums started to rage in pain. Mark looked at the clipboard and squinting his eyes to barely make out that only one student left was written on the audition list with the name, "Luke, 12th grade Senior". There was a knock on the door, before responding, Mark thought to himself, "Please God, let this audition not hurt my ears.", "Come in!".

A tall, tanned teenager walks in. His long messy pitch black hair was covering one of his eyes but the teen fixed it as soon as could. Mark noticed his brown eyes and fit physic. The teen wasn't a body builder but had some muscle to him. He had a grey and black varsity jacket that had a big red 'H' on the front and worn tattered jeans. Mark assumed the jacket was from his old school. Mark finally spoke to the teenager, "It says here that your name is Luke, is it short for Lucas?"

"No-"Luke smirked malevolently, his eyes turned from brown to a crimson red, "It's short for Lucifer."