The Audition

You stand alone on the stage. A voice in the dark says, “Anytime you’re ready.” You break into the character you’ll play if cast, an anti-Brahmin, anti-bougie South End Bostonian, gesticulating like you’re swatting away flies.

Nothing seems to land. No laughs where you expected, and you stand in the light waiting: “Do it again. This time,” the voice directs, “deliver with more contrast.” I’m not sure what they mean. “We mean at first be all-business and then shift to giddy fawning.”

You nod, planting yourself, your strong voice giving way to a lilting bray. You shift on your feet, wishing you’d practiced more. “Give us more,” they say.

What do they mean by “more”? It would help if you could see them. “Don’t hold back. Give us all you got. This is your shot.”

Does this mean they like you? Are they considering you for a principal role? You are sweating under the glaring lights. You clear your throat and wipe your brow and reassume the persona, strutting about like a rutting bull that’s breaking all the China, then bleating like a docile lamb gamboling about in a frenzy.

You give it your all, then look for a shadow to hide in, waiting for the voice.

The wait feels like months. You hear two voices now whispering back and forth coming out from the dark. You want to proclaim how hard you’ll work and become the character they envision, but you don’t.

“Next,” is all they say.

You abide and leave the stage wishing you’d done more, knowing you had it in you.

A few days later the cast list lands in your email’s Inbox: Near the bottom, beside your name, it reads, “Ensemble.” You convince yourself you’re okay with that. You’ll be on stage and that’s all that really matters. Later, you discover that your character gets murdered in Act One.

Ever the consummate pro, you admit to your ego, you’d rather kill than die. Welp, you figure, maybe at the next audition you’ll get a principal role, someone with meat, someone that matters, someone with lines, conveniently forgetting you told yourself that this is the only play you’d ever be auditioning for.

So at all the practices you sing some and dance a bit and get murdered many times, convinced this play you’re in is the actual audition for the real show that follows. This is where you’ll be discovered and be reborn.