Those Who Stare Into the Sun

Chapter Eight: The Play

The following weeks I had a lot to do. If I didn' work, I was at acting school, and if I wasn't at acting school I was at home memorizing the script. I was getting tired. Crazy tired. And as the days passed on (far too quickly), it was like it got even harder to remember eveything about the play.

I took a trip out in the city one day, and searched my way to the theatre where the play was suppose to have its premiere. I felt my knees getting weak as I saw that it was a real ass theater. It was the Novello Theatre on Aldwych. It was... so big. How many people were actually going to see this play?

Maybe it was a big theatre but it had this smaller stage? Or maybe we would have a lot of seats but just a few spectators? Anyway, my stomach was starting to turn inside out. I had this feeling since I met Peter and this Donald, that I actually had no clue what I was getting myself into. Apparently I had underrestimated George Archer far more than anyone probably ever had. Peter had actually told me that he was a theatre director who liked to keep his work on the down-low. And yes, I had confirmed that Archer actually was the Geroge Archer that Peter and Donald had been talking about.

After I had checked out the Novello, I had to speak with Archer.

"Sir, excuse me?" I said on a coffeebreak at the actingschool premises. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"

Archer grunted something at me, but gave me his attention. "What, Anya?"

I cleared my throat. "I need some more information on how big this play actually is?"

"What do you mean? Can you use plain language?" He stared at me, and that didn't make me more confident.

"Well..." I started. "As you know... I don't have a lot of experience in this. And I actually didn't know who you were before all this. But then I met this old collegaue of yours who told be who you really are..."

"Who I really am?" His eyes had grown three sizes. "Excuse me, have I've been hiding who I am from you or something? Have I been lying to you?"

"That's not at all what I meant!" I said quickly. "I'm just so confused about why I am here."

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" He now screamed at me. The other actors stared at us, while they pretended to sip coffee from their mugs.

"Well, when I first met these people", I pointed at the group, who rapidly looked the other way, "they said that they're like... not real actors. And this is just an acting class. But now everything seems so... serious."

"Anya", Archer had calmed down. "Come with me."

He started walking and I ran after him. We walked backstage and we sat down at these two folding chairs. Facing each other. He took a deep breath, probably so he wouldn't be overwhelmed with rage and accidentally kill me.

"I have my own ways in this business. This time I wanted to make something not many directors have done before me... work with real amateurs."

"Oh..." I said, and somehow felt a little hurt.

"... but this doesn't mean that I've lost my authority. People will come and see this play, because I made it."

Well, the man was filled with confidence. He kept going:

"The reason you're still here is because I see potential in you. And sure: you're a little old to start acting now..."