Procrastinators on Stage (Chris Kendall/crabstickz fanfic) *unedited*

Part 17- I Don't Like Being Bored

My jumper sleeves were bunched at my elbows as I once again worked behind the scenes of Wicked. It wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy set design and being creative; I just loved the stage even more.

Currently, I was multitasking a little bit. I’d finally completed production of my larger cog, and as a result of that, Max had set me up to decorate smaller cogs. The components for this new project were slimmer and made of more malleable and delicate materials, like mod rock or cardboard with papier-mâché on it. These cogs were not only more delicate, but more expensive as it took longer to produce the basic models.

So, as I smoothed down the surfaces of my little mod rock cogs with a scrap of yellow sandpaper, I attempted to recite the two monologues I’d prepared for my call back. I had to use every spare moment to practice, after all. However, I hated speaking aloud when the Droids were present, but I had to know the two monologues and two songs perfectly. Unfortunately, I might not even get to sing both songs or recite both monologues, but I had to know them anyway.

I’d spent a long time on Monday night trying to decide which monologues and which musical theatre based songs I would sing. I mean, these choices could potentially either get me the part or completely eliminate me being even a potential choice for the role. That’s why I’d had to think very, very, thoroughly and carefully about it.

For my monologues, I was going to do a speech by Clytemnestra from Shakespeare’s Agamemnon, and also something spoken by Madame Arcati from Blithe Spirit. Songs wise, there was ‘Home’ from Beauty and the Beast, and ‘Climbing Uphill’ from The Last Five Years, which was comedic. I’d been reading about these theatre productions and their story lines for a while, but they were my favourites to sing and act apart from those ones from Wicked. I was oddly excited to sing and act for this.

At least the organisers for the first set of call backs had decided to give the seven people they wanted to hear more of a decent time period between the audition day and call back date. In my local theatre, I’d once had to learn a set of prose within the day for my call back in the evening when I had had my audition in the early morning. After that call back to be in Fame, I’d known for definite that I wanted to appear on the stage more frequently, despite the hard work. What can I say: I find it rewarding.

But then again, the audition process for Wicked so far had thrown me a little. Tony Blake, the director, had practically given the Elphaba auditionees a free rein at our auditions; letting us sing contemporary songs, do improv. acting and not even see us dance. I suppose that the Elphaba role didn’t require all that much dancing, plus, the role was largely being offered to first time thespians to the West End stage. Even amateurs like us knew what the audition process was supposed to be like, though. Maybe that was why they were piling on the requirements for the call backs.

Singing, dancing and acting. I’d taken dance classes, singing lessons plus speech and drama lessons during my school years. I’d continued the dance classes and singing lessons when I’d lived with Maddie, but I supposed I needed a new teacher for both of those aspects now. I’d also done thorough research into musical theatre ever since I’d shown an interest in the area at a young age. Playing such a rich and powerful character as Elphaba had always been one of the three things I wanted from life:

1.       Be Elphaba

2.       For everyone else to be happy

3.       To survive being surrounded by idiots

By idiots, I presume it’s inferred that I’m talking about most real life people? If school experiences of lies, melodrama and deception indicate towards how minimal the threshold of tolerance I have for people is, then you’ll be able to decipher from my anger induced yelling matches with some members of the school community that a deep hatred and irritation runs through my bloodstream. Being ignored completely throughout the majority of your life until you were seventeen has that sort of effect on the mind, as if I wasn’t good enough for people before I forcibly changed my personality.