CH4

Being paired with another person had its pros and cons for the interview. The pros being the fact that I had someone I could bounce off of during a scene, being able to work together also helped showcase how well you could work during improvised sessions. The cons were, if your partner messed up, it could reflect badly on you if their mistakes caught you out.

I hoped to God they paired me up with the girl, assuming my hunch about her was right. Not because together we would both pass the test, but because she looked like she was least likely to mess up, which would be a risk for me too.

Luck was not on my side, however, as they paired me up with one of the older, more nervous ones. The man wasn’t too much older than me, but he gave me the impression that this was not the first time he had tried to get hired here.

Despite the disappointment in the match, I figured I should still be polite. I smiled at the man and said, “name’s Liam, good luck.”

The man looked down at me, nodded once, but offered nothing in the way of pleasantries. I shrugged. It was up to him if he wished to return the politeness or not; it had no actual effect on me in terms of how much I wanted to beat him and secure my place.

One of the staff members handed out a piece of paper that had a couple of scenes from the play, Romeo and Juliet. Everyone and their mother knew of this one and they had overdone it thousands of times in various media. As the two of us glanced over the parts offered to us, I knew one of us would have to play as Juliet.

I had a feeling the guy wouldn’t want to play that role and although I was no fan of pretending to be some chick; I was willing to do anything to get this chance of stardom.

As we all looked over the scenes, the staff member then let us know which order the pairs would work in. We were the last pair to act. Sometimes that was a good thing when acting in front of other potential stars? Not always so. Seeing others go before you, and how amazing - or bad - they perform can affect your own skills if you are prone to anxiety attacks or other such things.

I hoped this man held up under that kind of pressure.

As the first pair showed off their skills, I quickly realised each of us had a different play we were all acting. Which meant they were trying to throw us off by making sure we couldn’t copy another group and trying to one-up them. I couldn’t care less if I was honest. I just knew that whether this man did well or not, I would not let him drag me down with him.

As I watched each pair do their scene, I felt more and more confident about my own skills. When it came to the girl, whose name I now knew as Skyler, she and her partner had to perform a horror skit. I wasn’t familiar with the skit they were doing, but as I expected, she acted her part more than well. Her partner didn’t do too badly either, despite her nerves.

If I was honest, none of the groups acted poorly. Though one or two of them did hiccup once or twice, they easily rolled it off without making it obvious to anyone not skilled enough to notice. Of course, that didn’t include anyone judging us, but regardless, they did well in my opinion.

Then, at last, it was our turn.

In the brief time we had discussed who would go first in the scene, I knew he would be the one to start, allowing me to follow on through from where he left off.

“If thou art dun, we’ll draw thee from the mire of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick’st up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!” He said with passion.

This wasn’t the same as the scenes I had on my paper! All I could guess was that man seemed determined to catch me out - or perhaps he was trying to impress the judges, or the paper they had given him had very different scenes, I wasn’t sure that the reason was, but regardless of the reason, his part did not match any of mine. In fact, it wasn’t even a Juliet scene at all!

I couldn’t risk messing up or pausing too long, as either case would show a lack of ability to improvise. Luckily, I was well-versed in the play so without missing too long of a beat, I replied, mimicking a slight Italian accent, “nay, that’s not so.”

The man’s lips twitched, almost smiling as he realised how quickly I caught on. He resumed his own part, and said, “I mean, sir, in delay. We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. Take our good meaning, for our judgement sits five times in that ere once in our five wits.”

Holding the accent, I smoothly replied, “and we mean well in going to this mask, but ‘tis no wit to go.”

“Why, may one ask?” The man asked in return.

Tapping my temple I answered, “I dream’d a dream to-night.”

The man’s lip twitched again. He was obviously finding the whole thing amusing and was trying hard not to show it. “And so did I,” he commented.

With a small but refrained smile, I asked, “well, what was yours?”

“That dreamers often lie,” he replied.

I was about to speak the next line, however, the man in the glasses whispered something to the woman beside him and she spoke up, “thank you. That’ll do.”

As the judges discussed the results and who they enjoyed or not, the group of would-be actors and I stood in the furthest corner of the stage. I got a sneak glance at the paper the man had in his hand, though he obviously didn’t need it, given how well he played his role, and what I saw irritated me somewhat.

He had ignored the choices in order to trip me up by playing a scene not given to us. That could have gone badly for him, regardless of if I messed up or not, and now, thanks to him, I was at risk of failing because he had used a scene of his own choosing without thought to the consequences. Regardless, I could not complain or scold him for it. Such a thing would look bad on me, no matter how irritable I felt.