where all the poets went to die [dead poets society]

19 - the night

Neil watched the other actors from the wing of the stage, a sense of buzzing excitement bubbling up in him with a bottle of club soda. He glanced out at the audience, scoping out the familiar faces of his friends to try and gauge their reactions, but he froze when he saw his father enter from the back of the theater.

Neil backed away into the shadows, his heart pounding in his chest. A bundle of nerves quickly made themselves at home in the pit of his stomach, twisting and churning with every passing moment. He tried to steady his breathing, but it came out ragged and uneven.

He wondered if he was loud enough that he could be heard by the audience.

Fear slithered over Neil, coiling around him like a constrictor. It wrapped him in its grip, squeezing tighter and tighter with every passing second. The weight of his father's disapproval would be the final venomous bite that would take him out.

He swallowed, feeling his mouth dry.

On stage, the actor playing Lysander recited: "Amen, amen, to that fair prayer, say I;"

The director broke Neil out of his thoughts, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Neil. That's your cue, Neil. Come on, Neil. Here's your crown. Let's go."

Neil's mouth felt dry and parched, but he reluctantly replaced his crown before making his way to the stage. On it, he tried his best to remain calm and found comfort in taking on the impish and carefree mask of Puck.

As the finale came, the stage darkened dramatically and a spotlight shone to reveal Neil with his back to the audience. He slowly turned around to face the audience, eyes fleeting over his father quickly, before he took a deep breath and settled in his role.

"If we shadows have offended," Neil directed his eyes at his father again, feeling strong for once in his life. "Think about hits, and all is mended, that you have but slumber'd here while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream, gentle, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend: and, as I am an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, we will make amends ere long; else the Puck a liar call; so, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends."

He finished, backing away as the curtains closed and the audience began to applaud enthusiastically. Neil took several deep breaths, feeling somewhere between here and somewhere else entirely. People rushed to him, congratulating him as they all lined up for the curtain call.

The curtains opened.

Maria, Charlie, and the other boys rose to their feet, followed quickly by the rest of the audience. They clapped and cheered and hollered as the actors bowed to the continued applause

The actors pushed Neil forward and he took his second bow.

"YAWP!" Yelled his friends.

"Yeah, Neil!"

"That's my best friend!"

Neil allowed himself a smile, before meeting his father's gaze.

••●••

"Excuse me, I'm Neil's father," Mr. Perry approached a woman as the audience began to filter out. "I need to see him.

"Of course," the woman smiled and Mr. Perry swallowed his thoughts about how her makeup was too gauche. "Neil's quite brilliant, Sir. He absolutely has talent when it comes to acting. I betcha if that boy continues, he's on a one-track road to Hollywood. I'd be so honoured to have known -"

"Please," Mr. Perry interrupted. "We're in a rush."

The woman bristled, eyes darting over Mr. Perry's face once before her lips fell into a thin straight line and she nodded. "Of course," she said softly, hurrying away.