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“Al-RIGHT! People…can we please? Take it from Line twenty four 'and then I realized that…'? Joseph! ”

And the actors turned tangibly apathetic. They’d been rehearsing for two years, three months, fourteen days and some odd hours that turned into minutes that slid into slimy seconds.  No one cared that the costumes were purely gorgeous. They didn’t care that the stage they had seen every day for the past lifetime was glossy with perfection. The velvet curtain held no former awe for them. They didn’t even stop to wonder about the characterization, the script, the opening night. It was pointless.  A show that was to be performed once, rehearsed forever and a week.

Joseph turned slightly and looked the gaunt director in the face. He looked at him hard. “Don’t you think that we should let Carrie take a break?” Another actor just behind the curtain named David broke into the conversation, too.  “We’ve done this scene eight times and I think her vocal chords probably resemble a cheese grater.” Joseph gestured slightly to his equally tortured counterpart. In truth he could care less that she had to holler her lungs out, he just wanted to stop. God, he had wanted to stop fourteen months ago. But it was a fortune. And everyone knew it…drop out, and you’ll never see a dime’s worth of anything. The shrewd director leaned back judiciously and narrowed his eyes a fraction.

“Fine, take a break to guzzle some water. Fifteen minutes I want everyone on this sorry stage for notes.” With a monumental heave the entire theatre nearly echoed with the relieved sighs of the ragged performers. They turned collectively towards the rows of polished chairs…the golden armrest plates glistening.  Unceremoniously, Joseph and Carrie collapsed in row E. They had gotten used to each other. How couldn’t we? Joseph thought to himself. I spend more time with her on that hideous stage than I do in my own house with my own thoughts. What on earth compelled me to be a lousy actor? But it was alright. Carrie is sweet, and she is much easier to work with than leading ladies I've starred with in the past. Not like that one girl Katelyn who purposely ignored all her cues merely because she was unhappy with her hours. Or Georgia…what was wrong with her anyway? And then I realized that…Joseph’s thoughts began to spin, he was too tired for this. Heck, if his respiratory system wasn’t voluntary, he was positive that he would just give up on breathing and die. He slipped deeper into a rough state of sleep. But he was jerked back into his role when he felt Carrie’s hand on his arm to wake him. He leaped up and began reciting that last thing that had been running through his tortured mind.

“And then I realized that you weren’t the girl, Rosie! I realized it!” At the sound of a cue recited halfway across the room, David leaped toward Joseph, nearly bashing his kneecap into the maroon chairs they had just been sitting in. But by now the two co-stars had drifted into the isles…lines skipping through their heads, pouring from their mouths. “Rosie, darling, it wasn’t you!”

“Don’t make excuses, you dog!”

“What? I’m trying to tell you that it was a mistake, listen to me!” Joseph’s voice escalated into a frenzy while Carrie’s breathing turned into rapid bursts of energy.

“You have to leave! So it wasn’t me, I don’t care! But please get out…don’t you know what on earth will happen?”

David dashed higher up the isles and crouched low as if his life depended on his next move. Suddenly, he gave a running start and flew at Joseph’s torso. They tumbled in unison, flipping expertly like they had never done on stage. Their muscles moved synchronously this time; gave and heaved at all the right times. It made the appearance of a stupendous physical attack, engineered expertly to make an audience cringe- and yet they had done it all without injuring themselves in the slightest. Carrie gave a marvelous scream that echoed off the cavernous walls of the performing hall. She threw herself upon the two grappling men like the passionate woman she had transformed into. All three of them had been thrown into some bizarre alternate state, they didn’t even think…the blocking wasn’t there, the beats, the lines, the cues were gone. They were merely being. And in the middle of it all they heard the sound of triumph. It sent them back into themselves. The young men stopped wrestling and turned back into hired actors. Carrie’s dramatic eyes dried as they cut the scene. It was like coming back from wonderland, stumbling back through a portal. And they realized that they had made a fool of themselves, flailing about in the isles like deranged maniacs. But they didn’t care, they didn’t want to care because of that one noise. The sound of a single person clapping.  Gaunt little Percy, script-under-his-arm grim faced Percy was applauding.

“This is it! I need nothing more…go home and sleep. I don’t want to see you until you are dressed out. Show up on opening night and do what you have just done.” He ducked down and looked the three bewildered young actors in the face.  He didn’t smile, Percy never smiled, but his eyebrows jumped up happily. “Aren’t you aware that your souls have grazed genius? Just think…if you could only hold onto that and call it out you could be a Shakespeare.” But then he was up and gone. The other performers gathered their things and left chatting over the relief of no more practices, how rehearsal had gone into dinner time, how cold it had gotten outside, trivial things bouncing off the walls. Walls that had just heard the shriek of artistry, the call of a job well done.

The job of three people in the middle of an empty theater.

Description
“Al-RIGHT! People…can we please? Take it from Line twenty four 'and then I realized that…'? Joseph! ”

And the actors turned tangibly apathetic. They’d been rehearsing for two years, three months, fourteen days and some odd hours that turned into minutes that slid into slimy seconds.  No one cared that the costumes were purely gorgeous. They didn’t care that the stage they had seen every day for the past lifetime was glossy with perfection. The velvet curtain held no former awe for them. They didn’t even stop to wonder about the characterization, the script, the opening night. It was pointless.  A show that was to be performed once, rehearsed forever and a week.

Joseph turned slightly and looked the gaunt director in the face. He looked at him hard. “Don’t you think that we should let Carrie take a break?” Another actor just behind the curtain named David broke into the conversation, too.  “We’ve done this scene eight times and I think her vocal chords probably resemble a cheese grater.” Joseph gestured slightly to his equally tortured counterpart. In truth he could care less that she had to holler her lungs out, he just wanted to stop. God, he had wanted to stop fourteen months ago. But it was a fortune. And everyone knew it…drop out, and you’ll never see a dime’s worth of anything. The shrewd director leaned back judiciously and narrowed his eyes a fraction.

“Fine, take a break to guzzle some water. Fifteen minutes I want everyone on this sorry stage for notes.” With a monumental heave the entire theatre nearly echoed with the relieved sighs of the ragged performers. They turned collectively towards the rows of polished chairs…the golden armrest plates glistening.  Unceremoniously, Joseph and Carrie collapsed in row E. They had gotten used to each other. How couldn’t we? Joseph thought to himself. I spend more time with her on that hideous stage than I do in my own house with my own thoughts. What on earth compelled me to be a lousy actor? But it was alright. Carrie is sweet, and she is much easier to work with than leading ladies I've starred with in the past. Not like that one girl Katelyn who purposely ignored all her cues merely because she was unhappy with her hours. Or Georgia…what was wrong with her anyway? And then I realized that…Joseph’s thoughts began to spin, he was too tired for this. Heck, if his respiratory system wasn’t voluntary, he was positive that he would just give up on breathing and die. He slipped deeper into a rough state of sleep. But he was jerked back into his role when he felt Carrie’s hand on his arm to wake him. He leaped up and began reciting that last thing that had been running through his tortured mind.

“And then I realized that you weren’t the girl, Rosie! I realized it!” At the sound of a cue recited halfway across the room, David leaped toward Joseph, nearly bashing his kneecap into the maroon chairs they had just been sitting in. But by now the two co-stars had drifted into the isles…lines skipping through their heads, pouring from their mouths. “Rosie, darling, it wasn’t you!”

“Don’t make excuses, you dog!”

“What? I’m trying to tell you that it was a mistake, listen to me!” Joseph’s voice escalated into a frenzy while Carrie’s breathing turned into rapid bursts of energy.

“You have to leave! So it wasn’t me, I don’t care! But please get out…don’t you know what on earth will happen?”

David dashed higher up the isles and crouched low as if his life depended on his next move. Suddenly, he gave a running start and flew at Joseph’s torso. They tumbled in unison, flipping expertly like they had never done on stage. Their muscles moved synchronously this time; gave and heaved at all the right times. It made the appearance of a stupendous physical attack, engineered expertly to make an audience cringe- and yet they had done it all without injuring themselves in the slightest. Carrie gave a marvelous scream that echoed off the cavernous walls of the performing hall. She threw herself upon the two grappling men like the passionate woman she had transformed into. All three of them had been thrown into some bizarre alternate state, they didn’t even think…the blocking wasn’t there, the beats, the lines, the cues were gone. They were merely being. And in the middle of it all they heard the sound of triumph. It sent them back into themselves. The young men stopped wrestling and turned back into hired actors. Carrie’s dramatic eyes dried as they cut the scene. It was like coming back from wonderland, stumbling back through a portal. And they realized that they had made a fool of themselves, flailing about in the isles like deranged maniacs. But they didn’t care, they didn’t want to care because of that one noise. The sound of a single person clapping.  Gaunt little Percy, script-under-his-arm grim faced Percy was applauding.

“This is it! I need nothing more…go home and sleep. I don’t want to see you until you are dressed out. Show up on opening night and do what you have just done.” He ducked down and looked the three bewildered young actors in the face.  He didn’t smile, Percy never smiled, but his eyebrows jumped up happily. “Aren’t you aware that your souls have grazed genius? Just think…if you could only hold onto that and call it out you could be a Shakespeare.” But then he was up and gone. The other performers gathered their things and left chatting over the relief of no more practices, how rehearsal had gone into dinner time, how cold it had gotten outside, trivial things bouncing off the walls. Walls that had just heard the shriek of artistry, the call of a job well done.

The job of three people in the middle of an empty theater.