And a singing skill that's not so great itself. At least not without a lot of work.
My mom's nodding her head so vigorously that she's going to give herself a headache from her brain rattling around in there. She doesn't know that this guy was an ass during auditions and that he cast me as the understudy. ButnowI'm good enough.
Once again, I wasn't the best. I was the runner-up.
I know I'm going to take this part because it sure beats the alternative of going back to Ohio, but he doesn't need to know that.
"I can come up today and look around. I can't commit beyond that without fully assessing the situation." I wink at my dad. This is one of his tactics. "What's the best way to get there? Train?"
I'm sure my parents would offer to drive me, but there's no way in hell I'm letting them anywhere near The Edison. That has disaster written all over it.
"Yes. Let me know what time you're due to arrive, and we'll have someone pick you up. Do you want me to email you the script or music or anything?"
"Why not. I'm not sure if I'll have time to look at it before I get there, but it can't hurt."
I disconnect and now it's my turn to jump up and down, clapping my hands. "I'm gonna be a star!"
Chapter 4: Josh
I've never been in a better mood. Tabitha threw an epic party at her place last night. It was seriously the coolest thing I've ever been to.
Mostly because I got to throw back a few beers and chill with Ben Reynolds. You know, Grammy-winning songwriter Ben Reynolds. Imayhave even pitched my show idea to Ben and his girlfriend, Mandy Calhoun.
They didn't hate it.
Ben was actually quite interested and told me to get in touch when it's done. I'm like 95 percent of the way there. That last ballad, "Purple Dawn," still isn't quite right. Meaning, other than the title, I don't have much.
I'm not sure if they'll actually listen to anything when the time comes, but they didn't say no. That's a huge hurdle, and I just sailed over it with room to spare.
I wish I could call my parents to tell them. There are so many times I wish I could pick up the phone and talk to them. They'd both be so happy. Instead, I shoot a text to my sister, Kim, who probably couldn't care less. An actuary, she didn't inherit my parents' musical genes. Still, she's supportive, sending me back a thumbs-up emoji.
"Hey, man, we need a favor." Grayson looks like crap. It's too early in the rehearsal process for things to be falling apart, but nevertheless, here we are. I may have had a great night, but it didn't end so well when Jasmine sliced through her hand trying to shuck an oyster.
I don't know what she was thinking, other than I'm fairly sure she was lit and those knives are super sharp.
It doesn't matter what she was thinking though, because I don't know how she's going to perform her role as Anne inThe Greatest Showman. Jasmine is an aerial artist, and she and Levi have been working hard on their "Rewrite the Stars" number. It has the potential to be a showstopper.Had. There's no way in hell Jas is going to be able to do any of that aerial work with a damaged hand.
I don't even hesitate. "Anything."
"Okay, so we've got someone coming in from the city to possibly take Jasmine's role. She's the understudy for another role for us later this summer, but she's undecided about this part and needs a little coaxing. Okay, a lot of coaxing. We don't have any other options if she refuses. I'm knee-deep in rehearsals and Henderson, well …"
"Say no more. Henderson's great at a lot of things, but schmoozing isn't exactly his forte."
Grayson nods. "I knew you'd get it. Her train gets into Rensselaer around three. Henderson will give you our sign to use, and she'll find you. You can take my car."
I have a beat-up old Honda that I've been driving since high school. I keep it running but don't otherwise put a lot of money into it. Half the year it's parked on a Brooklyn street and there's no guarantee for its safety. Or that it'll even be there every morning. The only reason I still hang onto it is to haul my stuff to gigs, but now that I play with D'von, we use his van most of the time.
Needless to say, whatever Grayson's driving is probably a lot nicer. And I'm guessing cleaner too.
"No sweat. I'll sweet talk her like there's no tomorrow. She'll be putty in my hands before we hit I-90."
"Aren't you confident today?" Grayson laughs.
I want to tell him about the possible development with my show but now is not the time. We've got so much work to do onShowmanand no time to do it in. I hope whoever this ace-in-the-hole is, she's willing to bust her ass like the rest of us do.
I get to the Rensselaer Rail Station and park in the short-term parking with only moments to spare before her train pulls in. I run my fingers through my hair and re-do the rubber band that holds most of it back. Grabbing the sign that Grayson gave me, I stand there like an idiot, waiting for a total stranger.
I really should've gotten a name or something. I have no idea who to expect.
