Casting Call
by Kathleen Arnold
The cold plastic chair vibrated beneath me as I nervously tapped my foot against the carpet. A chorus of humming and chatter and laughter buzzed around me, making my heart beat even faster.
This was it, my big break, the moment my life might change forever. I repeated the audition song in my head for the hundred thousandth time, synching my foot tap to its beat.
“Is this seat taken?” A short girl with dirty clothes and matted brown hair pointed to the chair beside me where my backpack rested.
“Oh, no!” I quickly slid my bag to the floor. “It’s all yours.”
She said, “I hate to ask, but do you happen to have any water? My throat is a little dry.”
“Sure!” I dug through my bag for my water bottle and handed it to her. “Would you like a lozenge? I think I have a couple in here somewhere.”
The girl smiled broadly, as though no one had ever shown her an ounce of kindness. “That would be wonderful. Thank you!”
I handed her a lozenge and popped one in my mouth. As the sweet taste of cherry coated my tongue, I took a quick scan of the waiting room. Almost every chair was taken, mostly by fellow teenage girls with more makeup and less acne than me. I felt a little out of place surrounded by so many exceptionally beautiful people, but I wanted this.
I wasn’t going to give up. Not for the life of me.
“Could I have one of your chips?” a tall slender redhead asked a gorgeous blonde. “I was so nervous I forgot to eat breakfast.”
The blonde scoffed. “Get your own food. These are vegan and organic. They were really expensive, and there aren’t very many in the bag. I’m not going to share them with some nobody like you.”
How disgusting.
“Hey!” I called to the redhead, pulling a bag of chips from my backpack. “Catch!” I tossed the chips at her, and she grinned.
“Thank you so much!” she called back, tearing into the bag.
A hush fell over the room as an assistant entered from the casting room. “Kendall Sophia Grace!” she called.
The rude blonde girl stood and strutted over to her. “That’s me.”
They disappeared into the casting room. Panic pumped in my veins. I had arrived not long after her. I was going to be up soon, maybe even next.
The next five minutes felt like five hours. Dread seeped into my chest as Kendall Sophia Grace’s melodic belt burst from the other side of the wall. Her voice sounded so much more mature than mine, hitting riffs and notes I’d never dreamed of hitting.
I could have left. I could have accepted defeat and walked right out of that waiting room and given up on my dreams at that very moment…but I didn’t. I stayed. I would never get anywhere if I wasn’t willing to see things through, especially with the odds stacked against me.
“Maddie Tolk!” My heart leapt into my throat. I had become so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t realized the casting assistant had returned.
My legs trembled as I sprung to my feet. “That’s me!”
I could barely breathe as I followed the assistant through the doorway. The casting room was much more intimate than I had anticipated. Another assistant sat at a small desk with a computer and paperwork sprawled before her.
“Headshot and resume?” she asked, holding out her hand. My fingers shook as I passed her my photograph with my resume stapled to the back.
The assistant who had ushered me in took her place behind a tripod with a small camera fixed to the top. “Are you nervous?”
I couldn’t help but nod.
“It’s okay. Just take a deep breath, and begin whenever you’re ready.”
I did as she said, deep breath in through my nose, out through my mouth, and then…I sang.
***
I cried for three straight days following the audition. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, only cried…and cried…and cried some more. My mother grew so worried that she told me she would take me to the hospital if I didn’t at least start bathing again, but I couldn’t even lift my head from my pillow.
The audition had gone horribly. My voice cracked on one of the high notes. The chorus was flat. Nothing sounded even remotely like the song I had rehearsed.
The casting assistants were kind and encouraging, but as I walked back into the waiting room, the weight of my awful performance came crashing down on me.
A week later, once I had finally drug myself out of bed and started eating and bathing and almost even functioning again, my mother handed me a letter from the stack of mail. It was an invitation to an event for the musical, at which the cast would be revealed.
I didn’t want to go, didn’t want to suffer the humiliation of watching all of those beautiful people get cast while I remained a nameless face in the crowd, but my mother insisted I would regret it if I didn’t go.
“What if you do get in?”
“I won’t,” I said. “But I guess it doesn’t hurt to go. Free food, right?”
***
I bit into a crab cake that probably cost more than my outfit as the casting director took the stage, and the dense crowd quieted.
“Thank you all for coming. It has been a long, strenuous process to cast this project, and our team is glad that we could throw this party to celebrate everybody’s hard work.”
Applause. I choked as I swallowed the rest of the crab cake, my throat suddenly parched.
The casting director began announcing the cast, starting with the smaller parts and working her way up to the leads. My heart pounded in my ears, its beat growing louder and louder with each announcement.
The casting director said, “And finally, the part of Annabelle. The star of our show, our leading lady.” The room went deadly silent. I grew lightheaded, gasping for air that I couldn’t seem to breathe. “Annabelle will be played by…Maddie Tolk!”
And that’s when I fainted, right there in the middle of the dance floor.
***
Cool tile brushed my cheek as I drifted away. I was propped up against the bathroom wall, with the casting director fanning me with a piece of paper.
“Thank goodness you’re awake,” she said. “I thought we might have lost you before you got your big break.”
“Is this real?” I muttered. “Am I dreaming?”
“Of course not!”
I shuddered. “Surely you’ve made a mistake. My audition wasn’t nearly as good as the others.”
“Your talent is obvious, Girl. We don’t knock off points for nerves. Those can be shaken. What we do knock points for is bad behavior, and your competitors displayed plenty of that.”
I furrowed my brow. “I don’t understand.”
The casting director smiled and nodded to her right. My mouth hung open in astonishment as the brown and red haired girls from the audition waiting room appeared.
“Hey. I remember you two from the audition. Did you get cast as well?”
The casting director shook her head. “These are my other assistants. They weren’t actually auditioning. They were watching and interacting with the actors to gauge their character. You were among the very few who treated them kindly. That matters much more to us than nailing some silly song.”
I gasped as reality finally sunk in. I had done it. I had gotten the part, not only because I was a decent singer, but because I was a decent human being.