STAGESTRUCK - The Complete Series (6 page)

“Are you sure you don’t want another glass of wine?” Janette asked as she poured the remainder of our first bottle into her glass.

“I’m sure,” I replied. “Marion insisted that I be well rested and at the top of my game in the morning. A wine hangover is the last thing I need.”

“Alright, that just means there’s more for me.” She laughed. “Paul brought over some pretty strong bud while you were at work. We can smoke some if you want… it will help you relax and won’t make you feel like shit in the morning.”

“That sounds fantastic.” I agreed. The plan had been for me to arrive home from Orlando’s around nine o’clock and then run my lines and songs with Janette. The plan fell apart when the closing waitress called in sick; Steve insisted that I cover, since I’m the only waitress on the schedule not working day shifts.

“It’s only fair.” He’d argued. “Everyone else has to be here early tomorrow. You can cover tonight.”

It was almost midnight when I’d finally arrived home. Instead of running lines, Janette and I had polished off a bottle of Pinot Noir while I bitched about my job.

“You know, I think you’ve got tomorrow in the bag.” Janette said as she passed me a joint. “It’s probably a good thing that you don’t have time to rehearse. I find that the more I over think a gig, the worse I actually perform. It’s best to just relax, and then do your thing in the moment.”

I took a hit off the joint and felt my body relax; suddenly Janette’s advice seemed brilliant. “I think you’re exactly right.” I told her. “In fact, go ahead and pour me another glass.”

Janette beamed and uncorked a second bottle. She filled my glass and then lifted hers in a toast. “To all of your dreams coming true.” She said with a smile. We clinked our glasses together; I passed her the joint and chugged my wine. I finished the glass and lay back on Janette’s couch.

“Do you want to hear something crazy?” I asked her.

“Always,” she replied curiously.

“I think that I was wrong about Max.” I confessed. “I think he really might be a good guy…”

Janette sighed. “Do you know how much frustration you could have saved yourself if you’d just listened to me in the first place?”

“I know…”

“You’re starting to have feelings for him, aren’t you?” She asked knowingly.

“I think so… I can’t really explain it. He was such an ass at first, but now he’s being so nice. He goes out of his way to check on me, make me feel better… and sometimes… when he looks at me a certain way… my mind flashes back to the night we spent together.” I told her.

“The sex was that good was it?” She laughed.

I’m normally not the type of girl to kiss and tell, but the wine and marijuana loosened my lips. “It was fantastic. It was the best sex of all time… not just the best sex I’ve ever had, but the best sex in the entire history of sex… and I think I want some more of it.”

My confession made Janette laugh even harder. “That’s a pretty glowing review. I can’t wait to meet this guy… though every time I see him your last comment is going to pop into my head.” She warned.

“That’s totally fine.” I nodded seriously. “You should think about it… you should thank him for it… I should thank him for it! Where’s my phone?” I asked as I clumsily rolled off the couch. Janette went hysterical as I landed on the floor with a soft thud.

“Kate, you’re so fucked up!” She exclaimed. “You can’t call Max right now, you have to wait until you’re sober.”

“Oh no!” I cried. “You’re right, I am drunk! Marion is going to be so mad at me! How did this happen?” I sobbed.

My quick change of emotion amused Janette even further and she continued to laugh between offering me encouragement. “Don’t worry about tomorrow, Kate! You’ve got this, remember? What are you going to sing?”

“I know all of the songs, but I’ve been practicing ‘Angel of Music’ and ‘All I Ask of You’.” I told her. “Those are Christine’s best songs.”

“And you can hit all of the notes?” She asked; I nodded. “And you have all of the lines memorized? Not just Christine’s, but the whole cast's?" I nodded again. “So what are you so worried about?” She asked with a smile.

I thought about the question for a few minutes and came up with nothing. “I guess you’re right.” I sighed. “I can handle tomorrow. But I have to sober up. Do you have any bottled water?”

“Yeah, I’ll go grab you one from the fridge. Why don’t you stay here tonight? I’ll make sure that you get up on time in the morning and then we’ll go to your place and I’ll help you choose your outfit.” She offered.

I shook my head. “Thanks, but I’m a little superstitious when it comes to auditions.” I told her. “I have a routine that I go through… and I need to be alone to focus.”

“I completely understand.” Janette nodded. “I have a few superstitious routines myself. You go blow their minds in the morning, and we’ll meet up after to celebrate.”

“That sounds like a plan.” I told her as I struggled to get up from the floor. Janette offered me a helping hand and pulled me to my feet. “Thanks for the wine… and the smoke. I’m going to go sleep it off so I don’t disappoint Marion tomorrow.”

I stumbled towards the door, unsteady on my feet. Janette put an arm around me, helped me to my apartment, and tucked me into bed.

“Sleep well, Kate, and don’t worry about tomorrow.” She said as she backed out of the room. “I’m beyond confident that that role will be yours.”

Janette’s confidence turned out to be completely unfounded. I started Tuesday morning by sleeping through my alarm. I woke an hour late, giving me only thirty minutes to get ready and get out of the apartment. I arrived at the subway station just minutes before my train pulled away from the platform, and spent the entire ride trying not to vomit wine on the man sitting next to me.

By the time the train pulled in to the Manhattan station, I was shaky from the cold sweat pouring from my body; I wasn’t positive, but it seemed like the sweat smelled like wine. ‘This is just fucking perfect.’ I scolded myself as I slowly made my way to the theater. I arrived twenty minutes before the audition was scheduled to begin. As I stepped into the theater, I realized that in Broadway, twenty minutes early is actually an hour and a half late. Thirty other girls already stood on the stage, running lines, warming up their voices, and commiserating about the struggles of trying to make it in the industry. I deposited my things in an empty seat before ascending on to the stage. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was supposed to do, so I swallowed my pride and approached a woman who was standing off by herself. I’d assumed that, like me, the woman was a bit confused about the structure of the audition.

“This is a little overwhelming, isn’t it?” I asked with a smile as I neared her. She swung her head in my direction and shot me a harsh, critical look.

“I guess it would be, for an amateur.” She said smugly.

“Yeah, that’s me I guess.” I agreed sheepishly. “I’m sorry to bother you, I’m just nervous. Would you mind running a few lines with me? I’m Kate Harper, by the way.” I added, extending my hand. The woman looked at it as if I was offering her spoiled fish.

“Some of us are professionals and don’t have time to hold the hands of scared little newbies. Why don’t you go find someone else who’s just walked out of a cornfield? I don’t speak farmer.” She spat before turning and moving several yards away from me.

‘A cornfield?’ I thought. ‘Was that comment just a coincidence, or did the woman somehow know that I’m from Iowa? Surely there’s no way she knows who I am, or where I’m from.’ I assured myself. I didn’t feel like having any more encounters with my fellow actresses, so I sat down on the stage and pulled my legs up in a meditation pose. I closed my eyes and did some relaxation breathing exercises; in what seemed like a matter of seconds, a sharp voice broke my concentration.

“Alright, this audition is for the Christine understudy.” I opened my eyes and saw a short, balding, incredibly round little man standing on one of the seats in the front row. “My name is Stewart, and I’ll be running the audition. When I call your name, please respond with ‘present’.”

He went through the call sheet and I learned that the rude woman I’d encountered was named Shelia Morris. She stood with a group of women whose expressions were as sour as hers, and I decided that I was flattered that a woman like that didn’t want to be my friend. I glanced her direction; she caught me looking at her and began whispering to the women in her group. Suddenly all eyes were on me.

“Alright,” Stewart called out again. “We’re going to do vocal’s first. Everyone line up side by side; Sherman will play through ‘All I Ask of You’, and you will each sing eight bars. Keep track of where we are in the song; if your turn rolls around and you sing the wrong lyrics, you’ll be cut.” He warned.

We lined up as he directed, everyone vying for the first spot in line; Shelia elbowed everyone out of her way and claimed the coveted, easy spot; she’d sing the first line and not have to worry about keeping up with the lyrics. I cleared my mind of everything but the music and managed to pass through the first round of cuts.

“Alright ladies, if your still here it means that I like the tone of your voice and the way you look on stage. For the next round, you’ll each perform the song in full, with accompaniment.” Marcus Blackstone, the actor who plays Raoul, stepped out of the shadows of stage left. The women around me gasped in excitement; my stomach churned nervously.

“Alright, we’ll go in the order you’re lined up in.” Stewart directed. “Those of you waiting for your turn can take a seat. Number one, you’re up.”

I sat silently while the women ahead of me performed. They were all talented, but I was confident that I could out-sing everyone on the stage. When my turn came, I stood, looked Marcus in the eye with a smile, and signaled to Sherman that I was ready.

It happened halfway through the song. The cold sweats started again, but I tried to sing through them. I belted out “Say you’ll love me every waking moment,” and then promptly threw up all over Marcus’s soft suede shoes. A look of revulsion spread across his face as he backed away from me, and everyone around us broke into laughter.

“Calm down people!” Stewart shouted as he climbed on stage. He approached me cautiously. “Kate, are you alright?” He asked. “Can someone call for a doctor… and a janitor?” I called out loudly.

“I don’t need a doctor.” I assured him weakly. “Just a glass of water.” I could smell the wine on my breath as I spoke. Stewart smelled it too; he looked from me to the mess I’d made, and then to me again.

“I think that you need to leave, Ms. Harper.” He said softly. “I’d heard great things about you and I must say that I’m thoroughly disappointed.”

“I’m so sorry,” I began quickly; he interrupted me before I could finish.

“This is not the place to be sorry, Ms. Harper. This is the place to be fabulous. Please leave now, and don’t return until you can live up to my expectations.”

I nodded and left the stage; the women who’d already finished the second portion of the audition were seated directly behind my bags. I tried not to acknowledge them as I gathered my things; it proved to be impossible.

“That’s so sad! I feel awful for her!” A perky blonde girl commented to Shelia.

“Don’t,” Shelia snorted, looking directly at me. “It’s better that she learns early. Small town talent is great, until you leave the small town. It takes a lot more than a decent voice and good connections to make it here.”

I looked away from her and rushed out of the theater. ‘She does know who I am.’ I realized. ‘She made that comment about my connections, and she knows that I’m from a small town. Maybe she’s just jealous because Marion represents me.’ I thought. Dread filled my body and I felt as if someone had dropped a bowling ball in my gut as another idea entered my head. ‘Or maybe the bitch has a point. I don’t think anyone could blow an audition more thoroughly than I just did.’

I stepped out onto the sidewalk and the cool air helped to clear my head but made the cold sweats even more uncomfortable. I fetched a towel and a sweatshirt from my audition bag; I dried my damp skin the best I could and pulled the sweatshirt over my head. Instead of heading straight home, I decided to walk around the theater district for awhile. I traveled down The Great White Way, trying to convince myself that I hadn’t just killed my career before it even started. An hour into my walk, my cell phone chirped. The bile rose in my stomach again when I looked down and saw Marion’s number on my screen.

“I’m so sorry.” I answered.

“You should be.” She snapped. “I don’t know what in the hell you were thinking Kate, but I know that this is the last time you will EVER do something like that. I went on and on to Stewart about you and called in every favor he owed me to get you that audition. And you repay me by throwing up cheap wine all over the leading man.”

“I’m so sorry,” I apologized again, “I was so nervous last night… I was only going to have one glass…”

“Kate, I don’t want to hear your fucking excuses.” Marion interrupted impatiently. “All I want to hear is ‘I will never do it again Marion.’”

“I will never do it again, Marion.” I assured her. “What can I do to make this right?”

“Do better next time… if there ever is a next time.”

“Are you saying that this could have killed my chances?” I ask; the thought breaks my heart.

“I’m saying that from this moment on, you will be known as the girl who vomited on Marcus Blackstone.” She sighed. “Whether or not you can overcome that reputation and get people to take you seriously remains to be seen.”