by Ward, Alice
I didn’t actually have to GO to the restroom, I just couldn’t bear to stand on the stage for the next ten minutes, on display for the rest of the cast. I took several deep breaths and wished that I’d grabbed my water bottle from my bag. I was about to leave the stall when the toilets around me flushed; three women approached the sinks.
“Okay, so she’s not horrible,” one girl sighed. “It’s still not fair that they’re auditioning her. Dylan always does this… it’s not enough for him that he gets to sweep in and commandeer someone else’s role for as long as he feels like. Now they’re letting him handpick his fucking costar!”
“Oh, Samantha,” another girl laughed. “You just hate him because it was Kyle’s role he wanted. If anyone other than your boyfriend had been benched, you’d be thrilled to have him on the show.”
“No, Samantha’s right.” The third girl argued. “I don’t care how big of a star he is, he shouldn’t get to cast his latest conquest. What’s going to happen when he’s tired of fucking her? Are we going to have a revolving door of Lorraines?”
I couldn’t just sit there and listen to them. I was up for the role because I deserved it, and I would not hide away in a restroom stall like some scared child. I flushed the toilet to get their attention before I opened the door. Three mouths dropped as they saw me in the mirror.
“Hello,” I said politely as I stepped up to the sink. The two nameless actresses blushed; Samantha stared at me defiantly.
“Look, there’s no use pretending that you didn’t just hear all that.” She began. “I’m not saying sorry, just that it’s nothing personal. You have to EARN a role like Lorraine, it’s not fair to the rest of us for you to get it, just because you’re screwing Hank’s golden boy.”
“I’m got the audition because I’m good.” I told her, staring straight into her eyes. “I’m damn good… so good that Marion Russo signed me, I’m sure that you’ve heard about that.”
Samantha blushed and averted her eyes; I continued, washing my hands as I spoke. “As far as who I may or may not be screwing, that’s really none of your business. I realize that there’s nothing that I can say or do to shut your mouths and you know what? I don’t care. Your opinions are as insignificant as your careers.”
I wiped my hands dry and then returned to the stage, leaving Samantha and her friends standing speechless.
***
The door of Syd’s swung open and Janette stepped into the entryway. She spotted Max, Mark, Parker, and I waiting at a nearby table and rushed to join us.
“So?” She asked excitedly, wrapping me in a hug. “How did it go?”
“I think it went well.” I smiled. “The casting director kept using the word ‘fantastic’. After I ran my lines with Dylan, he said that he and the producers were going to have a meeting, and then they’d contact Marion.”
“How long ago was that?” She asked.
“About two hours.” I sighed. “I’m trying to be patient, but the wait is driving me crazy.”
“I’m so jealous that you get to work with Dylan Matthews.” Parker gushed. “Talk about a sex symbol.”
“Really?” I asked. “I guess he’s just not my type.” I lied.
“Thanks, babe,” Max laughed. “I appreciate that.”
A waitress appeared to take our lunch order; we all asked for burgers and fries, and we ordered a fresh pitcher of beer for the table.
As planned, I’d gone straight to Max’s apartment after the audition. Things had gone so well, and I was too keyed up to sit still and wait for the phone to ring. It had been Max’s idea to invite everyone to Syd’s for a wait party; I loved him even more for knowing exactly what I needed. I sat amongst my New York friends, amazed at how drastically my life had changed in such a short time. As I daydreamed, my phone started to ring; my heart leapt to my throat when I saw Marion’s number on the screen.
“It’s her!” I squealed softly.
“Answer it!” Janette exclaimed.
“Hi Marion, how are you?” I answered tentatively.
“Kate, I’m just fantastic.” She answered giddily. “I just got off the phone with Hank Mitchell. He’s offered you a six month contract as Lorraine.”
“Are you serious?” I whispered. As confident as I was that I’d earned the role, I was still surprised when I heard the offer out loud. Max beamed at me and took my hand as Janette, Parker, and Mark squealed loudly. Mark signaled the waitress and ordered a bottle of champagne.
“Yes, I’m serious,” Marion laughed. “And I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet. I negotiated one hell of a contract, if I do say so myself. Mitchell agreed to eight thousand a week, with a two thousand per week raise after three months.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “Thank you so much, Marion.” I said softly. “I can’t tell you what this feels like…”
“It feels like all of you dreams coming true.” She said warmly. “And this is just the beginning, Kate. You start Monday morning. Meet me at The Plaza for brunch at eleven in the morning. We’ll celebrate, and you can sign your new contract.”
“Thank you Marion, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I ended the call.
“You got it!” Max beamed. He leaned over and planted a firm kiss on my lips. “I knew that you had this, baby. I’m so proud.” He turned to Janette. “It looks like you and I have an opening night party to plan.”
“Hell yeah we do.” She agreed happily.
The waitress delivered the champagne; Mark popped the cork, poured everyone a glass, and offered a toast to my success. I looked at the faces around me, my new friends who were genuinely proud of my accomplishment. I felt grateful for them, but the person I wanted to share the moment with the most was missing; my happy tears turned bittersweet.
Janette, Parker, and Mark were in deep conversation about my party, but Max noticed the turn in my mood.
“Are you alright, sweetheart?” He asked me softly.
“I’m fine,” I told him with a smile. “I just have a call that I need to make. I’ll be right back.”
I grabbed my phone and stepped out onto the sidewalk. I dialed the number, knowing that the call would make everything that was happening finally seem real.
“Hi sweetheart,” answered the familiar, comforting voice.
Tears filled my eyes again as I replied. “Hi Mimi…” I sobbed happily, “I did it.”
CHAPTER 14
I arrived at Lincoln Theater bright and early Monday morning, eager to start my first rehearsal. I knew that I had an uphill battle ahead of me with my new costars; Poppy Martin had held the role of Lorraine for the last three years until she was unceremoniously dropped for me; that wouldn’t endear me to the rest of the cast.
Now that I was officially a part of the production, I was allowed to enter through the backstage instead of the main entrance. I was relieved when I pushed open the door and spotted Dylan on the other side. Even if he had ulterior motives, his friendly face was a welcome contrast to the scowls that surrounded him.
“Good morning,” he greeted me with a smile and a casual, one arm hug. He led me away from the rest of the cast. “Don’t let them get to you,” he advised with a smile. “And don’t let them convince you that they gave a damn about Poppy. They’re just pissed that they have to do the extra rehearsals to catch you up.” He explained.
“Well, I’ll try to learn everything as fast as possible, but I’ve decided that I don’t give a rat’s ass whether they like me or not.” I told him.
“That’s my girl.” He said with a wide smile. “If you can keep that attitude, you’ll go far.” He smiled as an attractive, middle aged man approached us. “Good morning Bruce. I was just explaining to Ms. Harper that she shouldn’t let anyone’s attitude bother her. Kate Harper, this is Bruce Miller. He’s the stage director.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Harper.” He greeted me. “I saw your audition, of course, but I like to stay in the shadows and let Hank do his thing. I was impressed by what I saw, but I do hop
e that you can catch up quickly… it’s quite… unorthodox to recast a role mid run.”
“I understand,” I assured him. “I promise that I’ll be ready to go before you know it…”
He nodded quickly. “Maggie Capshaw, the understudy, will cover performances until you’re up to speed. It’s in everyone’s best interest to get through this transition as quickly as possible. I’d like for you to be ready to take the stage in a week, at the latest.”
A rush of panic ran through me; most performers had a least six weeks of rehearsal time before opening night. But I was coming in mid run and I knew that I had a lot to prove. “I’ll be ready by next Monday, I promise.” I assured him.
“Fantastic. We’re having the new playbills printed up; they should be ready by Thursday. Also, the theater will provide five free tickets for you first performance; I’m sure that you have plenty of friends and family who want to see your big debut.” He finished with a smile.
“Thank you so much,” I told him. “I know that you’ve gone out of your way for me, I promise that I’ll make it worth your while.”
“You’d better.” He said shortly. “Starting right now. We’re going to run through the entire show. We’ll cut for instructions, and if you have any questions, but I expect you to have your material down already. We’ll take the stage in five.”
I took a deep breath as he disappeared down the hallway.
“Relax,” Dylan smiled. “You’ve watched the films I sent?” He asked. Saturday night, a currier from the theater had arrived at my apartment with a flash drive; it was filled with the most recent recordings of Jersey Boys. It seemed that Dylan had recorded every single performance of the show, and I’d done nothing but study the video for the rest of the weekend.
I nodded at him. “I watched them, I performed along with them… I have my lines and songs down, I’ve memorized the script and the stage cues. I just have to learn how to execute them… the films were really helpful.” I added.
“Like I said,” he winked playfully, “stick with me and I’ll make you a star. We’d better get started… stay in the wings and watch for your entrance. Believe that you’re fabulous and you will be.” He added with a sly grin before taking his place on stage. I stayed in the wings as instructed and watched the beginning of the story unfold.
As the character playing Tommy Devito began the opening monologue, I heard sharp whispers coming from behind me. ‘Don’t turn around.’ I told myself. Dylan took the stage as Frankie Vallie and I focused all of my attention on his performance. As I watched him work, I realized that his cockiness wasn’t completely unfounded. I’d never seen anyone transform so completely into the character they were playing.
“A hundred bucks says she doesn’t make it through the first week.” The whispering continued; I recognized Samantha’s voice.
“No one’s going to take that bet.” A second voice laughed.
‘They’re thirty year old chorus girls, and they don’t deserve my time.’ I reminded myself. I’d taken a stand that day in the bathroom; I’d insisted that I didn’t care what they thought of me and now I had to stick to my word. ‘Don’t turn around, don’t even acknowledge they exist.’ I was so focused on ignoring the snide girls that I missed my first stage cue.
“KATE!” Bruce bellowed from the front row. “That was your cue! Where the FUCK are you?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I gushed as I rushed onto the stage. “I spaced out for a second. Can we pick up from Dylan’s last line?” I asked.
“We don’t really have much of a choice!” He snapped. “Get your head in the game, Harper. I’ll cut you just as fast as Hank cast you.”
I knew then that if Bruce had had his way, Poppy Martin would still be starring as Lorraine and he’d be home sleeping soundly, enjoying the show’s dark day. I had to pull myself together fast, or I’d be out on my ass before I’d even finished my first rehearsal.
“It won’t happen again,” I assured him.
Dylan approached me and wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulder. He walked me back to the wings and looked me squarely in the eye. “Look at me…” he insisted. “Block out everyone else… all that matters is you and me, Frankie and Lorraine… pretend that we’re the only ones on stage, and you’ll be fine.”
I kept my eyes focused on him as he returned to center stage. He picked up from his last line and I entered on cue. I managed to make it through the rest of the rehearsal without pissing off Bruce again, but I didn’t impress anyone with my talent. My vocals were perfect, but I stumbled awkwardly through my lines and fumbled my stage directions. When the rehearsal finally wrapped, Bruce sighed in frustration.
“That could have been worse, I guess.” He announced. “We’ll meet at eleven tomorrow… do better, Harper.” He finished as he gathered his things and left the theater.
Dylan offered me a comforting smile. “For your first big stage rehearsal, you did phenomenal. Can I take you out for a late lunch?” He asked hopefully. “We can strategize the launch of your career.”
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I have plans with my boyfriend.” I actually didn’t have plans with Max, but it was the quickest excuse I could come up with, and it was an easy way to let Dylan know I was unavailable. Truthfully, after such an awful first rehearsal I was hoping Max was free; all I wanted was to curl into the safety of his arms and forget that the last six hours had happened.
“Alright,” Dylan smiled, unfazed by my rejection, “next time, then.”
I nodded, gathered my things, and escaped through the backstage exit. I stepped out onto the sidewalk, retrieved my phone from my bag, and hit Max’s speed dial button.
“Hello?” He answered impatiently after the third ring.
“Hi baby,” I sighed, “are you busy?”
“I’m on my break,” he snapped, “but I have to get back behind the bar soon. Did you need something?”
“I just wanted to see you.” I told him. “I’ve had an awful day, the audition was terrible. I let the snobby women get to me and I fucked up left and right.”
“I don’t have time to coddle your bruised ego right now, Kate.” Max snapped. “I’m sorry that the rest of the cast resents you, but really, what did you expect?”
I couldn’t believe the way he was talking to me and knew that something else had to be behind his mood. “Baby… are you alright?” I asked. “Has something happened that I don’t know about?”
He sighed. “I got a phone call from the junior editor of The New Yorker. He’s the one who’d initially approved the publication of my story on the slow foods movement. He ran it past the editor in chief this morning, and he shot it down.”
“Oh Max,” I sighed. “I’m so sorry. Did he say why?”
“It doesn’t matter why,” Max sighed, “after four years of writing, I’m still exactly where I started. I have to get back behind the bar, Kate… since that’s all I’m good at.”
“That’s not true!” I insisted. After a few moments of dead silence, I realized that I was talking to myself.
I stowed my phone back in my bag, walked to the subway station, and spent the entire ride home in silent, heartbroken shock. I felt for Max, but I couldn’t believe the way he’d talked to me. What happened to my kind, supportive boyfriend that had toasted my success just a few days before? Could he only be happy for me if his career was doing well too? Was he really one of those resentful, chauvinistic men who couldn’t handle his woman’s success? The thought chilled me to my bones as I walked through the windy November air.
***
I climbed the three flights of stairs to my apartment, unlocked the door, and collapsed on my couch. I fumbled through the drawer of my side table until I found the small, silver cigarette case. I flipped open the lid; my stash was empty.
I sighed and called Janette.
“Hey,” she answered on the second ring, “how did it go today?”
“Awful,” I told her, “and it keeps getting worse. I’m ou
t, are you home?”
“I’m still at rehearsal, but we’re about to wrap things up. I’m out too, but Paul’s on his way to Jersey to restock. I’ll be home in half an hour; come over, we’ll drink wine and wait for him.”
“That would be great.” I sighed. “I’m going to take a shower, I’ll be over in a bit.” I hung up the phone and stumbled into the kitchen. I knew that drinking was a bad idea, but I didn’t see how things could possibly get any worse. I uncorked a bottle of Riesling and filled a plastic tumbler. I carried the drink into the bathroom and stripped out of my clothes.
I set my cup next to the tub, stepped into the shower, and washed off my horrible day. Then I lay down in the tub, rested my head on the bath pillow, and sipped the Riesling while the hot water sprayed down on my body. I let my mind drift back to the night Max and I had spent in the shower with the champagne. My heart ached as I remembered how he’d spoken to me an hour before.
‘He’s just having a REALLY bad day.’ I told myself. ‘I caught him at a bad time… and compared to what he’s dealing with, I probably sounded like a spoiled brat.’
I finished my wine and stepped out of the tub; I heard my text message alert chime from the living room and knew that Janette was letting me know she was home. I dressed quickly in comfortable sweatpants, fuzzy socks, and an oversized Waterloo High sweatshirt. I pulled my still wet hair into a bun and padded over to Janette’s apartment.
“Hey,” she greeted me with an exhausted smile. “It looks like we’ve had the same kind of day.” She wore yoga pants and a loose t-shirt and looked as if she hadn’t slept in days.
“My rehearsal was awful,” I told her as I collapsed in her recliner. “Yours?”
“Mine was great, but sooo fucking long.” She told me; there was an air of excitement in her voice.
“You’ve never spent this much time rehearsing… is there something going on that I don’t know about?” I asked suspiciously.
Janette blushed. “I wasn’t going to say anything until I knew for sure… but there’s a chance that Underground Revival is about to land a recording contract.”