Xavier stared at the piece of paper with trepidation. Already more than a dozen names were filled out underneath a brief synopsis of what the play was about. There were still a few spots left, some characters even having no one audition for that role yet, but it was daunting all the same. He couldnât imagine himself being in front of a thousand people with blinding lights separating him from their judging faces. His heart leapt in fear and he silently cursed himself for getting worked up.Â
Still, although he was scared to pursue a position, he signed his name anyways and then ran. There was still a solid week and a half before auditions actually began and he had to prepare, fast, if he ever hoped to get a part.
Did he really want that? No. Was he going to push himself anyways? Yeah. Was he going to hate himself for it? Probably.
That week leading up to auditions was the worst though. He found that practicing at home was difficult because he ended up giving up too easily in the comfort of his own space. So he went on to find a better place to practice and, perhaps ironically, the only place he could have found perfect for practice was the theatre club room. The clubâs president and advisor already encouraged impromptu acting when in the classroom. Xavier hoped to channel that energy he was used to having when inside the room.
He was fortunate enough that with the oncoming play in the works, the theatre club moved to the auditorium to help prepare. So for three nights on end Xavier found himself pacing the club room with a packet in hand, reading line after line in his head, muttering to himself occasionally, and generally freaking out because there was no way he could do this, right?
He was so caught up in his mind that he hadnât even notice the door opening.
There were some things that that Ruby took too much pride in. One was his way to gauge a person based on their nonverbal cues: their stance, their clothes, their expressions, and many other things. It was why Ruby invested too much time studying his own fashion choices and enjoyed helping others to update their wardrobes. But with this, he also became a critic that didnât hold anybody back. If his classmates and clubmates could be compared to a restaurant, then Ruby would be the food critic that caused them to lose a star.
With the upcoming play, the change of work spaces frazzled Ruby and he had left his ever-important fashion notebook behind. While it held important things, like measurements and color coordination for the various actors and actresses within the club, it also contained the raven-haired maleâs personal opinions and observations about a person. It was something he desperately needed, and he had to return to the clubroom to obtain it.
As he entered the room, a voice caught his attention. It didnât seem the stongest, and it sounded like they were muttering to themselves---this wasnât normal, even Ruby knew that. He allowed the door to close quietly behind him as his curiosity got the best of him and he stood there, idly watching his clubmate.Â
Slowly Ruby clapped his hands together when there was a break in Xavierâs practice, the over-exaggerated movements echoing throughout the banisters that helped with projection as his palms slapped against one another. âBravo, bravo,â he sarcastically applauded, his lip curling as his crinkled nose showed his complete dissatisfaction.
âOkay, okay, okay. So, Xavier, I have to ask,â the freshman said, holding his hands out in front of his body and shaking as he repeated his words. He took a deep and long breath as he clapped his hands together once more, holding them in place as he swiped down through the air. âWhat kind of crap was that? What exactly are you trying to accomplish with that?â
