The Cast List

Chapter 1

"Next!" barked Larry.

I watched Lacey hurry out of the room, clutching a piece of paper and wiping away stray tears. I heard her collapse on the landing right below us and break out into fresh tears. So when Larry called out "next" again, I walked in apprehensively, after giving myself a second to steel my nerves.

But waiting seemed like a bad idea: when I walked into the room, Larry was sitting in a chair with an absolutely foul expression on his face. I gulped. I'd never worked with Larry before, so I didn't know how harsh he was, how he worked, or anything about him. He was a new director here at The Thespian's Academy, an after school acting program for teens aspiring to acting futures.

"Name," he growled.

"Um...I'm Melanie Jacobs..." I said nervously, not meeting his eye.

"Oh, god, if you're gonna act, you've got to speak more loudly! What is with these kids?" He directed this last, exasperated bit to his stage manager, a nerdy girl with mousy brown hair, professional but not attractive glasses, and a prim disposition. I immediately didn't like her. Every bit of her, down to the smallest freckle, screamed "suck-up." She sat beside him holding a clipboard, pen, and the many objects Larry required.

My newfound dislike gave me confidence, so when I spoke again, it was loud and clear: "I'm Melanie Jacobs and I'm auditioning for the role of Julia." We were performing a modern, slightly more sensual Romeo and Juliet.

Larry raised his eyebrows in obvious doubt. The stage manger saw his gaze and tried to copy it.

"Okay, whatever. Ambition is...admirable. Sometimes. Proceed."

God, this guy was a prick. My anger gave me more energy, so I proceeded (as he said) to read the monologue he'd handed out to all the girls. He wanted to see how the actors worked with the original Shakespeare rather than his version. It was the speech Juliet gives when she has found Romeo dead and is about to kill herself:

"Go get thee hence, for I will not away. What's here? a cup clos'd in my true love's hand? Poison I see hath been his timeless end. O churl, drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips, haply some poison yet doth hang on them to make me die with a restorative. Thy lips are warm....Yea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger, this is thy sheath; there rust and let me die." (5.3.160-171)

Not to brag, but I read it with so much emotion that if there had been any more, I, Larry, and Stage-Manager-Whose-Name-Is-Currently-Unknown would all be weeping.

As it was, I gave a little bow and said, "Thank you," as modestly as possible, my head to the ground. When they did not respond, I looked up. I saw Stage-Manager-Whose-Name-Is-Currently-Unknown surreptitiously wipe away a tear. The corner of my mouth turned up.

Larry sat there, completely still, looking at me with an odd expression on his face for a full minute. I stared fearlessly back at him. Reading super emotional, intense monologues always made me confident and even a little smart-alecky.

Finally he said, "Next."

I was at the door, about to walk out, slightly disappointed, when he said, "Wait! Stick around. I may need you again."

I couldn't help it. I smirked. "Thank you, sir. I will." I walked out the door, closed it calmly beside me, and let the smirk envelope my face.