“That’s why I chose you, Amy. So many of these students here are trained to the point of robots. Most of them won’t have a future. But you read those lines as if you were Beauty, and nothing else around you mattered. If you can hold on to that naturalism, you will have a future in the industry.”
“Why did you leave?” I asked, suddenly. “I mean…you had a future?”
His face clouded over and he shook his head, his jaw clenching. I saw that familiar look that he wore as he often strode through the halls.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, and pushed open another door. It led to the front of the school, where there was a separate theater, newly built in the former parking lot. Just as we were crossing the pavement, I heard someone call his name.
“Liam!”
He swore, and I realized it was a cameraman, approaching fast. Apparently, having left Hollywood or not, the paparazzi were always around. It made sense. He had been one of the biggest movie stars on the planet. And on top of that, many of the students had careers and TV credits that brought them some sort of fame outside the school. If the paparazzi wanted a photo of something, they had a good chance of getting it just by hanging around the front doors.
“Not now, please,” he said, barely turning around and taking me by the arm. He was increasing his pace towards the theater and I was struggling to keep up. “I’m trying to teach.”
“What’s your name?” The photographer called to me. I turned, gaping, and looked at Liam, who sighed and then shrugged.
“You know what? Fine. This is Amy, our full scholarship winner for this year. Amy was the best, out of thousands of hopefuls, and she and I will be playing opposite in Beauty and the Beast next term. That’s right, she and I.” He glared at the cameraman. “So take that, and write it in your paper, and publish a pretty photo, and if you give us so much as one out of focus picture or subpar review, I will make sure you are banned from school property and never get another picture again.”
And with that, Liam pulled me towards the new theater.
“Bloody leeches,” he said, shaking his head. “Always dying for a piece of drama.”
I felt like I was going to faint again, Liam’s words spinning in my head.
“I’ll be Beauty?” I said, and he met my eyes.
“Well, you’ll be my Beauty, of course. It was always going to be the scholarship winner, providing she was old enough.”
I leaned against the wall, and concern clouded his face.
“Are you alright? Do you need anything?” He bent to my level, a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“Something to eat maybe?”
I flushed bright red at the attention, and shook my head.
“No, you just surprised me. I’ve never acted before, you know that, right? And you’re…”
“Amy, I promise I’ll work with you every step of the way,” he said. “Every actor is only as good as his partner.”
“But won’t the other students be angry? The ones who have been here longer?”
He laughed at that, shaking his head. “No. One of the lessons we teach here is that there are so many variables when getting a part, including things you can’t control. Don’t worry about them.”
“That’s easy to say until they eat me,” I said, and he laughed at that, a slow and easy laugh that made me join him.
“The only one you have to worry about eating you is me, if you become delinquent.” He said, leading me towards the stage.
“What…uh…paper did he work for?” I asked, indicating the paparazzi that we left outside. Liam smiled.
“Your first piece of fame. Of many, I think. Don’t worry, I’ll find out and get you a few copies.”
“Thanks,” I replied, looking around the stage. I couldn’t believe all of this was happening, that it was actually real. “I didn’t want all of that, though. I mean, it’s cool, but it doesn’t matter.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, intrigued.
“It’s just…it’s stupid, you’re going to laugh,” I blushed, but he took a step forward, cocking his head with interest.
“No, please, tell me.”
“When I was a kid, I used to memorize monologues and do them in my room. Nowadays, I put them on YouTube. I used to sit in on classes here, sneak around.”
“I surely would have noticed you,” he replied, giving me a flattering smile. I grinned.
“I’m good. I’m sneakier than the Phantom of the Opera.”
“Indeed you are, for if I had seen you before, there’s no way I could have ignored you.” He was close to my face, standing only a few feet apart. If it were any other stranger who did that, I would have felt awkward and uncomfortable about it. But with Liam, I strangely felt relaxed.
“I would watch the classes, or the rehearsals, whatever was going on. And before you found me in the kitchen…I was content with the fact that the audition would be the happiest moment of my life, being up there and acting like that. I can’t imagine film is that good, is it?”
“As good as theater?” He was still smiling, and his eyes were twinkling. “No, but the money’s better.”
“I don’t care about the money.” I shrugged. “I grew up poor, and I haven’t dropped dead yet, so money doesn’t matter. But being up there, in a room buzzing with energy, and everyone’s eyes on you, watching you perform. Feeding off their energy. Just—wow…”
Liam laughed and I blushed harder.
“See, I’m a nerd. You laughed.”
“No, no, Amy.” He shook his head, his eyes intense. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just amused by the fact that you seemed to read my mind. Film was good, the fame and money were nice…But I never felt more alive than when I was on a stage. I wished I could have stayed in that profession forever, just only on stage, without any of the crap that came with Hollywood.”
“Oh…” I paused. “But…now…”
“But just living changes us a lot,” he managed, and I nodded.
“Of course. But now you’re Beast, so you’ll be on stage again. So you’re happy, right?”
He nodded, taking my arm and leading me to the next place on our tour.
“Yes, Amy, I believe I can be happy again.”
I couldn’t wait to go home and text Sarah, now that I’d have the money to turn my cell phone back on. If I couldn’t believe it and I was standing right there, I could only imagine how she was going to feel.
I smiled, despite myself. Never in a million years had I dreamt this would happen; if someone told me what my life would be like three years ago, I would have laughed in their face. My life was the same old routine day in and day out. But now, life was finally taking shape and all because I wandered down the wrong hallway.
CHAPTER 8: AMYI was so excited for the first day of school, I could hardly sleep. My father had quickly nixed the idea of moving in the next day, but between Liam and I, I won the battle to move in over the following weekend. And now, here I was, the last of my stuff packed in boxes to move to the dorms. Classes would start tomorrow for me, but a dorm had been reserved so that every day on his way to work, Dad could carry a box or two and drop it off for me. My online course credits had all been sent to the school, and transferred in. I would be a senior in every course with the option to return for partial credits next year in the theater department if I needed to. The school admitted students all year round and offered courses all year round as well, so I wouldn’t be as out of place as I thought I would be. Their schedule was dependent on the shows they were producing and touring (in freshman year, they toured the islands for three months which had made me jealous to no end), and so admitting students according to the needs of the theater had become standard.
“Do you want to take those today?” Dad asked, appearing in the door way of my room. “Or shall I bring them tomorrow for you?”
“Um…” I turned to him, standing in the middle of my now empty room. “I thought I could move today. That way, I could get a good night’s sleep and
go right to class tomorrow…”
“Oh.” He replied. “If that’s what you want…”
“Dad,” I said, trying to smile. “We’ll see each other MORE now than we did before. It’s going to be fine, I promise. If anything, I’ll be safer because you spend all day just down the hall from me.”
“I know,” he nodded, but his eyes were still sad. “I’ll just miss you.”
“You won’t have a chance to miss me.” I grinned. “I’ll bother you every moment of the day.”
“I hope so.” He gave me a firm hug, not letting go for more than a minute. Finally, he stepped back. “You want to go by yourself and unpack, don’t you?”
I nodded.
“I’ll be back for dinner. I promise. I just want to get a feel of the place.”
“Alright,” he said, and reached into his pocket, handing me the keys. “It’s room 66, on the 6th floor.”
“Great,” I put them in my purse and picked up the last box and a bag, kissing him on the cheek. “See you at dinner.”
I had only ever snuck into the dorms once before, and it was years ago. There was a double door at the front that required two keys, and then a key to each floor as well as your own dorm room key. So nothing prepared me for the beauty I was met with when I entered the lobby.
On all sides of the security desk were murals; stunning and colorful and ceiling high. In seemingly random, yet perfect spots were headshots and photographs of students and productions long past, staring back at me with contented eyes and happy smiles. I instantly felt at home and comfortable. So at home, in fact, that I walked right by the desk without checking in.
“Excuse me!” A girl called out to me as I walked by, and I turned, sharply. “Do you live here?”
“Uh…I’m new, but yes? I think so?” I replied. She smiled, reaching out her hand.
“I’m Sheena.”
“Amy,” I said, carefully juggling my load to shake it. “I’m uh…I don’t know where I’m going.”
“Are you a senior?” she asked brightly, and I nodded. “And what course stream are you?”
“Uh…” I paused. “I’m the scholarship winner?”
“OH!” Her eyes lit up. “You’re the winner. Congrats then! You’re in the theater wing. Do you have your room number? I can take you.”
“Sure,” I handed her my key, and she started down the hall. “What uh…other wings are there?”
“That’s the dance wing, there,” she said, pointing down one hall way. “And the musical wing is that one, off to the left. And then the technical wing, for all things not on stage,” she pointed to a hallway behind her. “It’s more for organizational purposes, you know … like all the dancers can easily have a meeting in their common room, and all the actors can have rehearsal in their hall way. It’s not really cliquey or anything, we all hang out all the time and we all take some cross -stream classes.” She was leading me towards an elevator, which opened with my key. Getting inside, she pressed the 6th floor button. “The higher you go, the older the students are. Makes it easier for the dorm mothers to manage. You’re on the second highest floor - the one above you is more of a hotel, reserved for visiting artists and such.”
“What’s your story?” I asked, and she gave me a sad smile.
“I came here when I was six, as a dancer. But when I was fifteen, I injured my IT band and killed my career.”
“Oh!” My eyes widened. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s ok,” She shrugged. “It happens to a lot of dancers. I spent a few years abroad and then came back here, and took a job managing this place. It makes me feel like I’m involved again. Here we are.”
The elevator opened to a crowd of giggling girls, who greeted Sheena and then got in as we exited.
“Hey, Tammy, there’s a package for you at the front desk,” Sheena called, and the girl called Tammy nodded, as the doors closed and we continued down the hallway. “And, 66.” She popped the key in the door, and opened it.
I gasped when I saw the inside of my room. There was a bed, a kitchen and a bathroom all crammed into a small space to make room for the living room. It held a barre running against one wall, with floor to ceiling mirrors, and hardwood floors. There was a bureau with lights around the mirror, and an extensive makeup kit, as well as a large closet with every type of hanger you could imagine. The lights in the room were all on dimmer switches that looked more complicated than some theater sound boards.
“Even when you sleep, you practise. All the rooms look like this. No one ever has an excuse to not work,” Sheena said, with a smile. My stuff was all in the center of the living room floor waiting to be unpacked. “Need anything else?”
“No, thanks,” I said, still looking around the room in awe.
“Alright, well, if you need me, I’m just a phone call away. It’s #1 on the phone,” she pointed to a houseline on the desk, and then gave me a smile, and left.
Alone in the room, I began to pull my stuff out of boxes, folding it carefully to fit in the drawers and cupboards. This place was bigger than my room at home, and I knew it was going to look sparse when I was done. However, it was my place and the very thought of that sent chills down my spine.
“Knock, Knock!”
I turned, startled, to find Liam at my door.
“Liam!” I said, before I could stop myself. “Er...I mean...Mr Swift.”
“Liam is fine.” He said, leaning against the door way with a smirk. “They told me you were finally moving in, and I wanted to make sure you had your class schedule for tomorrow.”
“Sure.” I said, looking at the desk where I had unfolded it. “I have Shakespeare in the morning, and then Theater History right after it. In the afternoon, there’s a whole block to be in the senior theater.”
“Sounds right,” he said, watching me unpack. “There should be a script for a practice show in one of your drawers. I want you to go over it before tomorrow, if you have time. We won’t perform it in full, but we’ll take it to a workshop level in class.”
“Right,” I said, looking up at him. I couldn’t believe how fast my heart was beating. Here I was, standing a few feet away from one of the biggest movie stars on the planet (or at least, he used to be), and about to start theater school.
“I brought you this,” he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a newspaper. My eyes widened as I recognized our picture on the front.
“Oh wow!” I couldn’t stop myself from ripping it from his hands, and he laughed at my excitement.
“Your first tabloid cover,” he said, watching as I read it. They didn’t have much information on me, but it had paragraphs about past scholarship winners, including, to my surprise, a familiar name.
“Porsche De Ritter had a dance scholarship here?” I asked, looking up at him. He grinned at the mention of her name.
“She did. Took it right out from under thousands of hopefuls, stayed three months, and then was recruited to the Russia National Ballet. Please stay longer than three months,” he said, turning his megawatt grin on me. I was surprised by this personality that was emerging from Liam. All the other times, I had seen him, he was emotionless; his jaw set, barking orders at people. But now, alone in my room, he was showing me his sense of humor and a laid back side of him I never would have guessed. I was flattered that he would even bother to come check in on me, when there were hundreds of students in this school. But still, there he was.
“If you’ll have me,” I managed. There was a silence then as we stood, simply looking at each other. Since the first day that I met eyes with Liam, I felt like we knew each other from before. His eyes were so full of expression and soul that it was overwhelming. I felt comfortable, simply being there with him.
“I’ll see you in class then, tomorrow, unless you need anything else?” he finally said, breaking the gaze and I nodded.
“I’m going back home for dinner, and then I’m sleeping here tonight. So…unless you wanted to talk to me tonight?”
&nb
sp; I was asking innocently, there seemed to be so many things I needed to be caught up on. However, Liam’s face instantly darkened and he shook his head.
“No, I won’t be free tonight. If you have any questions, you can call Sheena at security,” He turned on his heel, suddenly, and was gone before I could stop him.
I sat at the desk, my mind whirling at what I possibly could have said wrong. I hadn’t meant to offend him, of course, and I couldn’t imagine how I had. Somehow, I must have managed.
Losing my motivation to unpack, I went to put my coat back on. I had never lived alone before, and it was certainly going to be lonely. At that moment, a small part of me I wanted nothing more than to head home, see my father for dinner, and sleep in my own bed. But that life was over.
CHAPTER 9: AMYThe first week of classes were a blur to me; a constant stream of people and text books; lines and instructions; hallways and colors. Unlike simply sitting in the classes and auditing them, I actually had to participate, to do the work, and answer questions. More than once, I found myself lost trying to find a small classroom, or backstage entrance. The students were helpful, friendly for the most part and willing to share their textbooks and scripts with me until I got my own … at least in the beginning. But as time went on, it was Liam who gave me the support I needed, making sure I had time to find my way and pausing to offer definitions of terms or words that must have obviously confused me. And soon, I found the friendly looks from others turning to raised eyebrows, and snickering; dirty glares that would have stopped even the hardest heart in their tracks.
I told myself he was just being nice. He was helping me out. After all, we were to perform together soon, and so we had to work together. I even tried telling the others that. But soon, I found being at school was not much different than being at home. I was isolated, alone and different. The walls were thin, and I could a lot through them. I was used to sleeping in pitch darkness and dead silence. But at school, with the hall light constantly on, and the thin walls, I got neither.
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