by Jen Calonita
There's a bunch of people standing around on stage and they all turn to look when the door closes behind me. I take a deep breath to keep from passing out. Broadway is a world I know nothing about and as excited as I am to try it, I can't help feeling like the awkward new kid in school. What if I can't keep up? What if I don't fit in? What if they hate me?
"Kaitlin! Welcome!" Forest Amsterdam, the show's director, flies up the aisle toward me and puts my fear on hold. In a weird way, Forest is a newcomer just like me. Forest and I are the only two Americans in this production (he took over the direction when the show moved to New York). The rest of the actors are from the original London cast. Unlike me though, Forest is an old pro at Broadway. He just finished a traveling tour of The Little Mermaid and before that he worked on God of Carnage. "It's great to see you again," Forest says cheerfully. His face is pasty white, which is fitting for someone who has spent hours in the theater, but his bright smile and gray eyes are warm as he shakes my hand. He's wearing a baseball cap, like he did the last few times I met him, and I still don't know what his hair--or lack thereof--looks like, but I do know he's taller than me, and maybe even thinner. He's clean-shaven though, which is a one-up on most of the Hollywood directors I've worked with. "Have you been settling in okay?" he asks. "We wanted to give you a few days to get a feel for the city before we started hounding you."
"I'm great," I tell him, and smile equally big, even though I'm freaking out. I've been side-eyeing the stage, which looks HUGE even up close. "I'm unpacked and I've been getting acquainted with my new neighborhood. I've already found the closest Starbucks and the best pizza place, and taken a twenty minute walk to Magnolia Bakery. I'm addicted to their cupcakes," I admit, embarrassed.
Forest laughs. "Who isn't? You've got to try Crumbs, though. We'll have to get some of those in for rehearsals to keep your sugar level up." He jots a quick note on the pad he's carrying under the arm of his untucked navy blue dress shirt, which he is wearing over worn-in jeans. "The script--has it been treating you okay?"
I nod. "I think I have my part memorized." I pull the pages out of my bag. "I made some notes where I have questions," I add nervously. Is it okay to have questions on a play script? That's the norm for movies, but I wasn't sure what the protocol was for theater. Maybe you're not allowed to touch the dialogue. "I wanted to see how Meg did a few things."
Meg Valentine is the actress I'm taking over for. She originated the role of Andie Amber in London and here in New York, and her reviews were stellar. She's the only original cast member to leave the show. It's tough to slam one out of the park with a teen play, but this one sparked Seth's interest because of the plot. The whole story takes place in a high school on the last day of senior year. Andie gets up the guts to confess her love to Leo, who she's loved from afar for four years. Her confession sparks a trend that affects everyone in the lunchroom and pretty soon everyone, even the teachers and principal, are confessing something--their fears for the future, their dark side, their insecurities. And, of course, what it means to love someone who has never even known you existed. Teens in London thought the show was the second coming of The Notebook. They became addicted and repeat ticket sales were through the roof--partially because of Dylan Koster, who plays Andie's love interest. Dylan is a huge star across the pond, and has his first movie coming out in the States this year.
Forest takes my hand and squeezes it tight. "No mention of Meg's name again," he says. "This is your part now and I told you--we want you to make it your own. It's your turn to get the critics in a tizzy! They're going to love you."
I'm glad Forest has so much confidence in me because I'm still worried about how I'm going to pull this thing off. And I have to pull it off because if I don't, my already precarious place (according to Mom) in the Hollywood Food Chain will be in even more peril. Thankfully this is a great part. Andie is a cut-up, a klutz, a talker, and full of heart, just like the show.
"Come say hi to everyone." Forest leads me to the stage while Nadine and Rodney take a seat in the back row of the theater. "Everyone, you remember Kaitlin. Kaitlin, this is everyone."
"Hi." I feel so awkward, like it's the first day of school. What should I do? Shake everyone's hand? Make small talk? I don't want to say or do the wrong thing. How do cast introductions work on a play?
Thankfully, the cast takes care of those questions for me. Everyone introduces themselves and shakes my hand. The cast is small, only about twenty people, and I make my way down the line talking to everyone. No one talks about the play. Instead they have Hollywood questions, mostly about celebrities. (Is Miley really as cute and bubbly in person? Do I consider myself a BFF of Taylor Swift too?) I'm so busy chatting, I don't realize Forest is waiting to introduce me to two other people.
"And of course," Forest is saying, "you remember Riley and Dylan. These two are going to be your right and left hands on stage."
"How have you been, lovely?" Dylan has this adorable British accent. "Ready to have a go with this thing?"
Yowza. Was Dylan this gorgeous the last time we met? I was in the middle of my Lauren/Ava phase when we rehearsed, and at the time I couldn't think of anything but shoes, shopping, and sweets to keep me awake after all those late nights. But now that the fog has lifted, it's hard not to notice just how good-looking the guy playing my love interest actually is. He's taller than me by at least a foot, and has the frame of a linebacker, but the face of a dark-haired cherub, with green eyes that suck you in.
I sort of lose my train of thought for a moment and have to send my brain a signal to react. Say hi, I will myself. Stick out your hand and shake his. I do. His grip is warm and steady. Instead of saying hi though, I sort of squeak.
"I saw PYA at the cinema over the weekend," Dylan adds. "You whipped Sky Mackenzie's arse, which you probably wanted to do for a while." He winks at me.
Why do accents make a guy extra attractive? I'm a sucker for accents, which is good, because Andie, my character, is supposed to be head over heels for this guy. Dylan being this cute will do well for my character motivation. Although, I guess Dylan won't be using his accent during the show. Forest told me all the actors are using American accents for this production.
"She's not so bad, actually." I find myself finally speaking and I'm talking nicely about Sky of all people. "Especially when we're not working together and I don't have to hear her gripe about our line counts." Both Dylan and I sort of laugh, and I hear someone clear their throat.
"Stop hogging her," Riley interrupts, and elbows Dylan. "Can I say hi too?" Riley hugs me tightly. "You've certainly been up to bits and bobs, no? Your name is all over the papers. Which is good, if you like that sort of thing, which I guess you do. It suits you."
"Nice to see you again, Riley." I smile warmly, even though inside I want to shrivel up and disappear. Riley I remember. Her stage name is Emma Price. Apparently she has these huge fears about people knowing her real name so she uses her middle name for professional purposes. Emma, Riley, whoever she is, had a way of making me feel very small and inferior about tackling the theater the last time we met. I chalked it up to jet lag--I distinctly remember her telling me how much she hates long flights, and the flight to L.A. from New York is a long one she didn't want to make. Forest made her and Dylan fly out with him to audition with me. But maybe it wasn't the time change. Maybe this is just her.
"Forest just told us your smashing news--you're hosting Saturday Night Live in a few weeks," Riley says. While I look smart casual for today's rehearsals, and the rest of the cast is dressed down in jeans and tees the way you normally would be for a practice run, Riley looks like she's headed for a day at the office. She's wearing a fitted white dress shirt that is tucked into a navy pencil skirt. She's also got on heels. I look down at my cute and comfy black Dolce gold-studded sandals.
Wow, Seth works fast. "Yes, I'm honored." God, I sound like I'm accepting an award. Riley makes me so uncomfortable! "I mean, I can't wait. It seems like such a fun show."
"Well done!" Riley claps. "That row with those wankers really paid off for you." She smiles thinly and I can't help thinking Riley looks like a cat who swallowed a canary. A pretty cat with pale skin, long light brown hair that falls to her narrow waist, and brown eyes that view me warily. "I'd love to do that sort of show while I'm here, but of course, I don't have enough paparazzi coverage to warrant it. I did get to present Sunday night at the Tonys with Meg Valentine. We didn't see you there. Weren't you invited?"
I blush. "I wanted to watch from home," I lie. Okay, so the truth is I wasn't invited, but the American Theatre Wing apologized profusely for the oversight. Laney laid into some poor executive on the phone this morning. Being so new to the Broadway game, I didn't even realize the Tonys were happening last week. Laney should have, but I suspect she was too busy dealing with a high profile client who is looking for a new nanny--she caught her husband with their current one (which means she's also looking for a good divorce lawyer).
"Really?" Riley looks mildly amused. "I've never heard of anyone turning down a Tony Awards invitation! Did you get many invites to important award shows when you were on your soap opera?"
I ignore the dig. "Only the Oscars," I say smoothly.
"Riley, be nice," Dylan scolds. He looks much more relaxed than the ice queen. His jeans are as worn in as Forest's, if not more so. There is a hole near his right knee. He has on black tee with a picture of John Lennon on it. There's a bleach stain near the bottom, which I suspect is real, unlike the one Matty had on his shirt today. "Just because she's a Hollywood actress doesn't mean she's going to give you fleas." Dylan looks at me, covers his mouth, and loudly whispers so that Riley can hear. "She doesn't think you celebrity types over here have the chops for the stage."
"Bollocks, Dylan! I didn't say that," Riley tells him, ignoring me. "I said that most Hollywood stars who do theater are doing it because they're in a career slump and they need a boost. Producers jump at the chance to hire them to get their seats filled, all the while never caring how much the tosser's inexperience is dumbing down their play." Her voice is growing louder and I become aware that others are listening. "I know this isn't the case with you, Kaitlin, darling," she emphasizes. "But in so many cases the play would work perfectly well with another stage actress, one as qualified as Meg was, but instead, the producer hires the Hollywood arse who doesn't know the playing area from the center queue or what the box set is. Then the rest of us trained thespians, who have been doing this sort of thing our whole lives, have to spend ten weeks sorting it out with someone who will never see the inside of a theater again after this run, especially after the papers that heralded their debut pan them." She inhales then, having not taken a breath during her entire "speech." Wow, she really is a trained thespian.
I'm sort of stunned into silence. My face burns and I stare at the floor. I can't think of a witty zinger to sling back at her, partially because what she just said is something I've been worried about. Did Forest hire me to fill the house? Did I snag the lead role just because I'd drum up press? If Sky were here, she wouldn't let Riley get away with a long-winded speech like that. But I'm not Sky and right now all I feel is embarrassed.
"Brilliant, Riley, tell us how you really feel about Kaitlin being here," Dylan says dryly and I look up at him. He winks again.
"I didn't say Kaitlin," Riley insists, looking around. "Did anyone hear me say Kaitlin's name?"
"Unlike you, I like the idea of a paparazzi princess--that's what they call you, right?" Dylan asks me, but doesn't wait for an answer. "I like the idea of sharing the stage with one. It's like being on one of those roller coasters at EuroDisney. They dip, and turn, and you're never sure where they're going, but you like the ride."
"I think you've found the right paparazzi princess then." I smile back. "I'm a big roller-coaster enthusiast." Dylan smiles and I notice the cute tiny gap between his two front teeth.
"Riley, may I have a word?" Forest's voice interrupts our conversation and we all turn to look at his stony face. "Now?"
Riley turns and walks past the director, who follows her offstage and into the wings, where I can hear him whispering heatedly. I wish I could hear what he's saying, but I'm almost positive I know: He doesn't like the way she's behaving. And that makes me smile, because even if Riley doesn't like me, I know Forest does. And so, apparently, does Dylan. The other cast members are quiet too. You can tell that Riley is their queen, if only because everyone seems a little frightened to get on her bad side. I take the moment to address them.
"Look, Riley's sort of right," I tell them without flinching. "I've never done this before. I don't know what the playing area is. Or the center..." I look at Dylan questioningly.
"Queue," he whispers.
"Center queue." I bite my lip. "I do know that I'm excited to be here. I hope you guys can show me the ropes. And I promise to work hard. I'm dedicated to making this the best performance I've ever done. I'm just asking for a shot."
"This, people, is the attitude I'm looking for." Forest walks over and gives me a hug, all the while keeping his eyes on Riley, who is staring glumly up at the rafters. "Kaitlin is going to make a superb Andie," he says affably, and fixes the pencil hanging behind his ear. "And we're going to help her every step of the way, aren't we? I'm counting on all of you to help, since I'm not around at every rehearsal."
Oh God, he's not? Forest is my biggest supporter. How am I going to do this without him?
"Remember: the better she does the better we look," Forest adds. "So let's give her a hand and make her feel welcome."
Forest starts clapping and I feel my face flush as people join him. They're all smiling and Dylan is whistling and even though I'm embarrassed, I'm touched. It's nice to feel wanted by everyone. Or should I say almost everyone. Riley is barely clapping. But that's okay. I look at the others and smile gratefully. After crazed paparazzi (Glad you're back in Cali, Larry the Liar!), bitter guest stars, and socialites gone mad, winning over Riley should be easy.
I hope.
Monday, June 8
NOTE TO SELF:
Ask Nadine 2 buy theater terms dictionary!!!
Brush up on my British-ese.
Study script!!!
Rehearsals: T-F w/ cast: 11-2:30. Me only: 2:30-4.
Sat. nite: charity dinner 4 Operation Read America
Sun. nite: party 4 Scooby
SNL Mtg: Mon. AM w/ Sky *brunch w/ Sky after
Wed. the 18th: Chanel charity dinner.
HOLLYWOOD NATION
HOT TOPIC
Kaitlin and Sky's Meltdown-o-rama!
June 11th
Do our eyes deceive us, or were Kaitlin Burke and Sky Mackenzie arm in arm in Hell-ay last night, acting as chummy as Drew Barrymore and half of Hollywood? Dressed in matching outfits that make Britney Spears's tour clothes look timid, with their hair teased higher than the Captiol Records building, the pair hit the Sunset Tower Hotel for dinner and then went dancing at MyHouse, stopping at each location to take dozens of photos for waiting paparazzi who were already salivating over the pair's previous mishaps that evening. At the Sunset Tower Hotel, they caused a scene in the middle of dinner by spraying a bottle of champagne on other guests. At MyHouse, they made Zac Efron flee in terror after they repeatedly tried to kiss him in front of a steamed Ashley Tisdale, who is pals with Zac's love, Vanessa Hudgens. "Kaitlin and Sky were out of control!" says a witness. "They were loud, rude, and didn't care who was watching. It was so out of character for them. Well, for Kaitlin, at least."
Hmm... gets us Hollywood Nationers wondering. How were SKAT (our we-so-love-it abbreviation for Sky and Kaitlin)--both in the Big Apple for work--in Los Angeles for the night? And why would the recently redeemed Burke be up to mischief?
THE L.A. LADIES WERE IMPOSTERS!
"Ava Hayden and Lauren Cobb thought it would be a hoot to dress up as Kaitlin and Sky and cause trouble," admits a supposedly close pal who fears "they'll kill me if they know I blabbed. The two were furi
ous when they heard that Kaitlin and Sky were benefiting from all this publicity instead of them. They can't believe Sky and Kaitlin are going to host the season finale of Saturday Night Live! That didn't fly. Now they're trying to get payback."
Others back up this source's claims, as do the pictures posted here, which distinctly show LAVA (Lauren and Ava's new nicknamae courtesy of HN) playing dress-up. (Who could miss Ava's tattoo of her dog Calou on the inside of her wrist?) "I knew it wasn't Kaitlin and Sky," said a waiter at the Sunset Tower Hotel. "Kaitlin was just in a few weeks ago and couldn't have been sweeter. I feel so bad for that girl. Lauren and Ava are really out to get her."
Don't we know it--and we can't wait to see what happens next!
FIVE: Pucker Up
I bet Giselle doesn't have these problems. I should have been in a car heading to the Waverly Inn for the Operation Read America event fifteen minutes ago. Instead, I'm dealing with a dress crisis (Sky just stole the Vera Wang Lavender Label steel-belted one I was going to wear because she liked it better than her Nicole Miller bustier mini) and trying to put on makeup while I ignore my ringing phone (I'm sure it's Mom wondering where I am). Then the doorbell rings.