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“How was your summer?” asks Ms. Joy.
My eyes flick to hers, caught off-guard. “Sorry? Oh. Summer? Uh. It was …” I clear my throat, willing my nerves to settle. I hope my hand isn’t shaking. I always notice when other people’s hands shake during their auditions, especially when holding a sheet of paper. “It was alright. Lots of, uh … burgers.”
“Ah, yes. Biggie’s Bites. The always reliable, never un-tasty Tucker-owned Biggie’s. Always a friendly face, seeing you there.”
“Thanks.”
“And it’s a nice change to see you up on that stage for once,” she adds, toying with a pen in her hand, which hovers over a pad full of messy notes in her lap. “You have a lovely stage presence.”
I give her a reluctant smile. This is more small talk than she’s given any other auditionee, and more than I bargained on having in front of an audience.
“Well, don’t let me postpone this any longer.” She gestures at me to carry on. “Do the thing. State your name and all that, even though we all know you, et cetera, et cetera.”
I’m grateful for Ms. Joy’s light chitchat, since it did the likely-intended trick of relaxing my nerves. But with a glance over at Vann, I realize he’s still sketching away, ignoring me, the stage, and the whole damned world for all I know.
That, of all things, is what gives me the resolve to lift my chin, part my lips, and fill the auditorium with my confident voice. “My name is Toby Michaels, and I’ll be reading for the role of …”
I look down at the side I took, crinkled up in my grip. I see all of the same Kingsley lines that Vann and Frankie and about four or five other guys read. The same speech. The same tired words.
And I see the lines between them—the lines of the female in the scene, the main love interest, the shy yet quirky and alluring beauty in the café to which Kingsley is awkwardly babbling.
I look up again. “I’ll be reading for the role of Danielle.”
Someone in the back row laughs. Someone else shushes them (probably Kelsey). But that doesn’t stop the other gasps and titters from hissing across the auditorium like a sudden gust. Faces turn to each other, questions in their eyes.
But there’s no questions in Ms. Joy’s. She merely nods at me with a curious smirk on her face, as if telling me to proceed.
Then my eyes fall on Vann. He’s staring straight at me now, eyebrows pulled together quizzically, his curiosity piqued.
Finally.
And with his attention grabbed, I face him directly and deliver my lines to him. “So is that how you see yourself? A dirty stray cat, huh?” I ask him, as if belatedly responding to his audition. “Well, that wouldn’t surprise me at all, the way you’ve been looking at me. And what if I told you I was allergic? And I’m not talking just sniffly-allergic. I mean deathly.” I take a peek at the side for the next words, then return my gaze to him. He still watches me, and I swear, it’s like he’s holding his breath. “What if I’m deathly allergic to you? What if you’re … bad for me?” I take a step in his direction, bringing my toes to the edge of the stage. “Would you still follow me? Kingsley. That’s your name, right? Hmm.” I chuckle, amused as I imagine Danielle would be, sizing up this Kingsley guy. “I’m not as innocent as I look, sitting here in this big café at a table for two, all by myself. I counted on you following me here. I counted on you wanting to finish that tiny piece of a conversation we had that first day we met. Is that what we’re doing here?” I let the sheet of paper lower, my full attention on Vann in the fifth row, where he continues staring at me, staying with me in this scene, encompassing the soul of my temporary Kingsley. “Are we finishing that conversation? Or is this just the start … of a much … much longer one? And no,” I add, nodding toward an invisible seat at my side, “I haven’t ordered yet. This place has killer pancakes, if you want to join me. Unless you prefer a dish of Fancy Feast. Or Purina Pet Chow. Or whatever the dumpster out back provides.”
And in the ringing silence that follows my audition, even from up here on the stage, I see the corner of Vann’s lips curl upward.
I’ve amused him.
“Um, alright, wow!” exclaims Tamika suddenly. She rises from her seat and faces everyone. “See? Anyone can audition for any ol’ part they want! It’s fun, right? You can do it for the experience, like Toby here just did!”
“Oh, he did it for more than just the experience,” mutters Ms. Joy to herself, and I’m not sure if she meant anyone to hear that, but it throws Tamika off, earning a strange glance from her.
