Star Struck

by Jenny McLachlan

  Ms Kapoor thinks for a moment. ‘I guess that depends on how you walk onstage. Why don’t you try something now?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Any of Romeo’s lines.’ She gestures towards the theatre. ‘See how it feels.’

  I face the empty seats again and walk forward until my feet almost touch the edge of the stage. Below me is the orchestra pit, dark and cluttered with chairs and music stands. I take a deep breath then look up. ‘“I dreamt my lady came and found me dead –”’ I say, my words ringing out in the vast empty space. ‘“And breathed such life with kisses in my lips, that I revived, and was an emperor.”’ For a moment the words hang in the air, then I realise how quiet everyone is behind me. ‘So,’ I say, turning round, ‘what do you think?’

  They’re smiling and Ms Kapoor says, ‘It works,’ like she can’t believe it.

  ‘So, are you going to do it?’ asks Mr Simms.

  And I find myself nodding and I say, ‘I’ll be Romeo.’

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  I’ve spent so long watching Hoshi and Jake rehearse, I find it quite easy to remember Romeo’s lines, sing his songs and know where to step. For the next few hours, Hoshi and I run through our main scenes, only stopping at lunchtime to share some sandwiches. Then, while we wait for the rest of the cast to come in, we focus on the songs. Ms Kapoor keeps telling me I’m doing great and Mr Simms can’t believe it when I hit every note in ‘Aint No Balcony High Enough’ – ‘Such a magnificent range!’ he calls out.

  We’re practising our duet when the first cast members appear. Ms Kapoor tells them to sit in the auditorium while we finish, then she insists on giving us notes, ignoring all the curious faces watching us. ‘Did you get that, Pearl?’ Ms Kapoor says, tapping the script.

  ‘What? Oh, yeah. Don’t be too aggressive. Got it.’

  ‘Just remember you’re not Tybalt any more.’ She looks up and sees that nearly everyone has arrived. She turns on the God-mic that’s clipped to her top. ‘As I’m sure many of you are aware,’ she says, her voice echoing round the theatre, ‘Jake has had to drop out of the show because of a rugby accident.’ Talking breaks out and she holds up her hand until everyone is quiet. ‘So that the show can go on, we’ve had to make some last-minute changes.’

  I see Kat and Betty sitting in the front row. Bea and Bus Kelly are behind them. Along with everyone else in the cast, they stare up at me and Hoshi. ‘As you can see,’ says Ms Kapoor, putting her hand on my arm, ‘Pearl has bravely stepped up and will be playing Romeo. Nothing has changed really, but our show is now going to be a love story about two girls.’ Her words fill the silent theatre.

  Suddenly, a single ‘Yes!’ bursts out from the front row. I look up and see Betty jumping to her feet. ‘Way to go, Pearl!’ she shouts and she starts clapping. Everyone turns to stare at her and this just makes her clap even louder.

  ‘Well, someone thinks it’s a good idea,’ says Hoshi quietly.

  ‘Betty thinks it’s a good idea,’ I whisper back. ‘That doesn’t count.’

  Betty’s claps die out and Ms Kapoor says, ‘What are you all waiting for? Get your mics on. We’ve got a show to rehearse!’

  THIRTY-NINE

  I’m not sure it’s my fault the rehearsal is a disaster, but the moment I step onstage as Romeo, everyone around me starts forgetting their lines, calling me ‘he’ and walking in the wrong direction. The Year Ten boy playing my dad even misses his exit he’s so busy staring at me, open-mouthed.

  I, on the other hand, am pretty word-perfect. Even if I’m not Romeo-perfect.

  The rehearsal is slow-going and some people find it difficult to adapt their lines at the last minute. Ms Kapoor is performing with us and keeps shouting out encouragement as she sings and dances. ‘It’s looking good,’ she says as we get in our positions for the party scene.

  ‘Really?’ mutters Evie behind me. ‘I’d say it’s looking pretty –’

  ‘What?’ I say, spinning round.

  She rolls her eyes. ‘Good?’

  I turn back to face the front, shoulders tense. ‘Smile, Pearl,’ says Mr Simms. He’s taken over the God-mic and is watching us from the orchestra pit, trying to conduct at the same time. I force my lips into a smile and stare at him until he looks away. ‘OK, so straight into the party scene,’ he says. Then he raises the baton to bring the band in.

  I throw myself into the dance, but I know we’re minutes away from the moment when Romeo and Juliet first meet, which also means we’re minutes away from when Romeo and Juliet first kiss. Behind me are the rest of the company and I can feel their eyes burning into my back as we chicken noodle soup and dougie our way closer and closer to our first lines.

  ‘“Villain”!’ says Ms Kapoor in the first break in the music. ‘“I’ll not endure her!”’

  Then the music fades into the background and everyone steps back; Hoshi and I meet in the middle of the stage and our hands lock together. As I speak my first line, Hoshi squeezes my fingers, trying to give me some of her confidence, but I know my voice needs to be so much stronger. Then it’s her turn, and she’s brilliant as usual.

  We work through the scene and I try to take myself back to the park last night. I try to fill my words and movements with the confidence I felt when I was lying next to Hoshi, staring up at the stars – when I knew anything was possible – but I’m just too aware of everyone watching me: the cast, Chris at the prompt desk, the musicians in the pit. And I’m too worried about what they’re thinking.

  Hoshi pushes on. ‘“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake”,’ she says.

  ‘“Move not,”’ I say, ‘“while my prayer’s effect I take.”’ Then my lips brush the side of Hoshi’s cheek, even though my heart is pounding just to be standing close to her, holding her hand.

  ‘It makes my flesh tremble!’ says Ms Kapoor, and I feel like she’s speaking for the whole company. Hoshi winks at me, then we’re dancing again and I can relax, knowing that I’m finally doing something I’m good at.

  We struggle on through the play, aware of how little time there is, until I’m kneeling by Hoshi’s dead body, and I’m so eager to drink my poison and die that Mr Simms makes me come back to life and do it all over again.

  Then it’s over. All around me people grab bottles of water and some of them tell me how well I did, but I’m sure I can see the doubt written all over their faces.

  ‘You’ve got half an hour until we need you back onstage for the sound check,’ says Ms Kapoor, ‘and then the audience will start arriving. We’re sold out,’ she adds. ‘Grab something to eat then get changed.’

  The stage empties, but the girls hang back. ‘Can I just say,’ says Bea, ‘that you two were totally amazeballs!’

  ‘Totally,’ echoes Kat.

  ‘Hoshi was,’ I say. ‘I was a disaster.’

  ‘I’d say you were pretty good for your second ever rehearsal,’ says Betty. ‘You’ll nail it tonight!’

  ‘I hope so,’ I say, then I walk to the front of the stage and twist up my hair as I try to cool down.

  ‘Off you go,’ says Ms Kapoor, ushering the girls off the stage. ‘I need to speak to my leading ladies.’

  Then it’s just the three of us. I drop down on the floor and Hoshi sits opposite me. Miss looks around, checking there’s no one in the wings, and I get the feeling I’m about to be told off.

  ‘So, how did it go?’ she asks.

  ‘Badly,’ I say. ‘I was embarrassing.’

  ‘No, you weren’t,’ says Hoshi, nudging me with her foot. ‘You were amazing!’

  Miss nods. ‘Pearl, I do get why you feel self-conscious. We live in a small town and the show they are going to see tonight isn’t quite what they’re expecting. A few people might make comments –’

  ‘A few?’ I say, laughing, then I look out at the auditorium. I know Tiann is coming tonight along with a couple of hundred other students from school. What will they think when they see Hoshi and me kiss?

  ‘But,�
�� she says, ‘you, more than most people, have the power to make this work and to get everyone in the theatre cheering for you and Hoshi.’ She pauses here and I study my hands, wondering just how much she’s worked out about us. ‘Just perform with utter confidence and everyone will believe in you.’

  ‘I get it,’ I say quickly.

  ‘We’ll be fine, Miss,’ says Hoshi.

  ‘Pearl?’ says Ms Kapoor. ‘Is this definitely what you want to do? Because now is the time to say if it isn’t.’

  I watch as a cleaner works his way along a row of seats, flipping each one down to check for rubbish. ‘I want to do it,’ I say.

  ‘Take five minutes,’ she says, dropping a bag by my side, ‘but then you need to get ready.’

  ‘What’s this?’ I look in the bag.

  ‘Your costume. I bought two dresses for Hoshi because I wasn’t sure which one she’d wear.’

  She leaves us alone on the stage and I pull a black dress out of the bag. It’s a skater dress, like Hoshi’s, but off-the-shoulder. ‘Kawaii,’ says Hoshi.

  ‘Cute?’

  ‘That’s right.’ All around us, the theatre is being prepared for the show. Voices call from the wings, props are dragged to the side of the stage and, up in the stalls, someone’s doing some last-minute vacuuming.

  Someone must be checking the lights because the stage is suddenly flooded with blue light. ‘Hoshi,’ I say, putting my face in my hands. ‘I’m scared.’

  Hoshi shifts round so that we’re facing each other, legs crossed. She takes my hands in hers. ‘Is it because of last night?’ she says. ‘I’m getting the feeling you regret it.’ She laughs, but when I look at her I see that she looks as worried as me. We haven’t spoken about what happened in the park. We’ve had no time on our own.

  ‘No way,’ I say, holding her hands tighter. ‘I’ll never regret that.’ A spotlight swings across the stage, followed by another, then another.

  ‘So why are you scared? You’ve been in loads of other shows. Why’s playing Romeo going to be so different?’

  ‘I was acting in those shows,’ I say. ‘It wasn’t me … but what I’m going to do tonight is the most real thing I’ve ever done!’ I take a deep breath, then another, trying to stop the panic from rising inside me. ‘At school, I’ve laughed at people who’ve dared to be a bit different; I’ve made their lives miserable!’ I shake my head. ‘Can I really stand on this stage tonight and say, “This is me. I’ve fallen for a girl. Please cheer for me”?’

  We stare at each other. ‘When Romeo goes to see Juliet on her balcony,’ says Hoshi, ‘how does he climb the wall into her garden?’

  ‘Are you testing me?’ I say. ‘Because I do know my lines.’

  She laughs. ‘Just tell me!’

  ‘He says, “Stony limits cannot hold love out.”’

  ‘There’s only one way you’re going to find out what people think about you falling for a girl: you’re going to have to walk on this stage and see what happens, and you’re not going to let anything stop you!’ She holds my hands tight. ‘You won’t be on your own.’

  A magenta light shines on us. I look into Hoshi’s pip eyes. The light has made her hair pink, just like it was when she first walked into the drama studio and turned my world upside down. ‘You’re right,’ I say, smiling. ‘I can do this!’

  ‘So let’s get ready,’ Hoshi says, jumping to her feet. ‘We’ve got a show to do. Coming?’ A bright golden light sweeps the stage. ‘Pearl? We need to get ready!’

  ‘You go,’ I say.

  ‘Don’t be long.’ Then I’m the only one left on the stage, all alone, staring at the rows of empty seats. A velvet curtain slides smoothly in front of me, brushing the floor and cutting me off from the auditorium.

  ‘Pearl.’ Chris, the stage manager, is standing over me, tapping his clipboard. ‘You need to get your arse in gear.’

  I smile up at him. ‘I do, don’t I?’

  I let myself into dressing room one. It’s next to the stage and we’re using it to store our props. I work my way between the wheelie bins, bikes and skateboards until I get to the shower room. I lock the door and start running the water. Then I drop my clothes on the floor and step under the hot water. I lean my head back as spray hits my face and body.

  I stand under the water for as long as I dare, knowing that I must be getting close to the sound check, then I wrap myself in a towel and pull the dress out of the bag.

  I hold it in my hands. Out in the dressing room, the speaker buzzes, followed by the call, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, sound check, please.’ I hear giggles and footsteps as people pass the dressing room. I know I should rush upstairs, grab my mic and get back onstage, but I can’t move.

  I shut my eyes.

  I hear water drip from the shower head and more people making their way to the stage. Then I open my eyes and stare in the mirror. Through the misty condensation, I see my bare face, my blue eyes and my dripping wet hair. I look at my pale eyelashes that I’ve got from my dad and the waves that are already appearing in my hair – my curly hair, just like Mum’s and Alfie’s.

  More footsteps pass by outside, names are called and a shout bursts out. I put my fingers on the mirror and write ‘Pearl’ in the moisture on the glass. Mum once told me that wild pearls are extremely rare. A tiny speck gets into an oyster shell and is then transformed into a precious stone. I never used to like my name; I thought it didn’t suit me.

  It’s quiet again outside. I step into the black dress and pull up the zip. It fits perfectly.

  FORTY

  ‘Have you been drinking?’ says Betty, looking up from her iPod. Like Bea and Kat, her hair and make-up are done and she’s already in costume.

  ‘What?’ I say. ‘No!’

  ‘Well, you look drunk.’

  ‘Leave her alone,’ says Bea. ‘She’s just smiling because she’s wearing an awesome dress.’

  ‘It does look good,’ says Kat, glancing over. ‘By the way, you missed the sound check and made Ms Kapoor say a very bad word.’

  ‘I’ll sort it out in a minute,’ I say. ‘Where’s Hoshi?’

  ‘She’s ready. She’s gone down to get a new mic,’ says Betty. Then she peers at me. ‘Where’s your face gone?’

  ‘No make-up,’ I say. ‘Stop staring, you freak.’

  She laughs. ‘That’s more like it!’

  Chris’s voice rings out of the speaker. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this is your ten minute call. You have ten minutes. Thank you.’

  ‘You need to hurry up,’ says Kat. She’s taken over the mirror and make-up is scattered around her.

  ‘Who’s got scissors?’ I say.

  ‘Me,’ says Bea, passing me the pair of blue school scissors. She goes back to plaiting Betty’s hair.

  ‘Ow!’ says Betty. ‘You’re hurting me.’

  ‘Such a baby,’ mutters Bea.

  I gather my wet hair in a loose bunch at the side of my head and lean towards the mirror, nudging Kat aside. ‘What are you doing?’ she says, mascara brush suspended in mid-air. I start to cut my hair just above my fist. Snip, snip, snip go the scissors and my thick, tangled black hair falls around me. ‘Oh my God …’ Kat whispers, picking up a long strand.

  ‘Pearl, stop!’ shouts Bea.

  But my scissors keep going. ‘I’m sick of this stuff getting in the way.’

  ‘Oh, wow …’ Betty is smiling. ‘Let me help.’ She gets another pair of scissors out of her make-up bag and joins in.

  ‘I think you’d all better help.’ I pass my scissors to Kat and they gather round, tugging at my hair, arguing, snipping. ‘Bea, can you take my nail varnish off.’ I stick out my hands, then I watch in the mirror as they cut my hair into a bob that brushes my shoulders and my black nail varnish disappears.

  The speaker crackles. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this is your five minute call. You have five minutes. Thank you.’

  ‘Hairdryer,’ I say and Bea blasts it into my face.

  ‘Make-up?’ asks Kat, approachin
g me with a fully loaded foundation brush.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ I say, taking a blob of the foundation and rubbing it under my eyes and across my forehead. I add powder to keep off the shine. ‘Vaseline?’

  Betty hands me the pot and I dab some on my lips. She’s still grinning and shaking her head. ‘This might be the best thing that’s ever happened in my life,’ she says. ‘I’m watching Pearl Harris get a make-under!’

  ‘No way,’ says Kat. ‘The best thing was finding out Pearl was playing Romeo.’

  Bea turns off the hairdryer and runs a brush through my hair while Kat starts to fix my mic in place, running the wire down my neck. Their fingers flick around me, pulling out strands of hair, snipping off the wonky bits.

  ‘I think we’re done,’ says Kat.

  They stand back and I look in the mirror, slowly turning my head from left to right. I run my hands through my hair, messing it up. ‘Good,’ I say. Then I smile. ‘My head feels light.’

  ‘Oh God!’ Ms Kapoor is in the doorway, wearing my Tybalt costume. ‘What have you done, Pearl?’

  I walk to the middle of the room and the final call comes through: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Act One beginners’ call. All Act One beginners to the stage.’

  I slip my mic into the pouch round my waist and smooth down my skirt. ‘Just getting in role,’ I say. ‘How do I look?’ I’m wearing hardly any make-up, no jewellery, no nail varnish, my hair is brushed away from my face and my shoulders are bare. I turn slowly round.

  Ms Kapoor folds her arms and the girls’ eyes flick from her to me.

  ‘Honestly?’ she asks.

  I nod.

  ‘You look like the best Romeo I’ve ever seen.’ She smiles. ‘Now off you go.’

  We leave the dressing room and walk down the bright corridor. All around me, people stare, open-mouthed, nudging each other. ‘Is that you?’ whispers Bus Kelly.

  ‘Boo!’ I say and she laughs and blinks.