Chapter Eight

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(y/n)'s POV

It was finally Friday, and as soon as the cast list was out I could know who was who, and finally talk about playing Veronica to people besides Mayo and Lacrosse. I was looking at my inbox, waiting for the text that would state who was who.

My heart nearly skipped a beat (which was probably not healthy. Why was that a trope in books?) when I saw a text from Mr. James.

"Cast List
Veronica - (y/n) (l/n)
Heather C - Luna Duncan
Heater M - Clara Ellison
Heather D - Maya Blue
Martha - Ava Vermillion
JD - David Jacobs
Ram Sweeney - Berowne Meyer
Kurt Kelly - Joseph O'Neil
Ms. Fleming - Sierra Sanders
Featured Ensemble - Christine Brown, Renee White, Sophie Lou, Braiden Tebbe, Carter Marvin, Helen Burgess, Dylan Richey, and Jeremy Woods"

I grinned down at my phone. As expected for a lead, my name was first on the list. I quickly switched over to my conversation with Davey.

"did you see the cast list?!?"

"Yeah, I just got it. Congratulations on getting the lead!"

"you too! are you excited for rehearsals to start??"

"Yeah, it should be fun. I ought to go and study the songs, bye"

"cya dave"

I closed the conversation with a sigh. I was ecstatic, and seeing the words in front of me made it all so much more real. Like I hadn't internalized it fully yet, but now I had. I felt tingles and buzzing through my entire body, and honestly could have cried out of joy.

I FaceTimed Mayo, and she answered on the second ring. Her pale face was pulled into the biggest grin I'd ever seen from her, despite being best friends since we were 5 years old.

"Did ya see did ya see did ya see did ya see?!?" She practically screamed. I nodded, matching her enthusiasm.

"People at the stage door are gonna recognize me! And I won't get rude comments like "you were in the show?" as if I don't have a mic taped to my face after shows!"

"That actually happened?" She asked incredulously.

"Yeah, it was Hairspray since I was only in the ensemble for that one," I told her. I hated remembering that, because it honestly felt bad. I had been so excited because my cast mates and directors had noticed how funny and good I was in that one, but only a couple of people in the audience did. And the ones that did were there specifically to see me.

"But you were so good! You had a Jersey accent!"

"I know! And it was a good one too! That audience didn't know what they were missing, and now I get a lead. So they can suck it!" I laughed, making her erupt into cackling.

I really was perfect for the role, it was in one of my two broad casting types (adorable dork you want to protect and mean, yelling in your face and enjoying it) and it was in my vocal range, mezzo-belter. The lines were definitely me and something I could breathe life into easily, and I looked like a before-the-Heathers-Veronica.

I even wore glasses, which I figured I'd wear in Beautiful up until the Heathers give me a makeover and put them on again during Dead Girl Walking Reprise.

"Yeah, and now I'll be a named role and we can be mean to each other!" We were really good at that. Because of our close, easy friendship, we had fantastic onstage chemistry and knew how to work with one another.

That was the case for most of the group though, since we all did a ton of shows together. I'd been there since the summer after 7th grade, and did a summer and winter show every year since. Now it was senior year, the last show I could do with the group, going off to college next year.

I wouldn't be going very far, since NYC was where there were a lot of theatre opportunities and it was were Broadway was located. But still, I couldn't be with the company anymore next year.

"I love being mean to you!" I giggled, and she stuck her tongue out at me like the immature little brat she was. That immature little brat was my best friend.

However could I have gotten so lucky.

"Yeah, you're an asshole, we know! You're such a Chandler,"

"You're not wrong, my guy. To be fair, I expected to not get Veronica as much as Chandler. Because like Veronica... doesn't leave the stage... and I'm always tired."

"I named my eye bags. You have NO room to talk about being tired!" She sassed. The left one was Jason and the right one was Dean.

"Mine don't deserve names, they ruin my fabulous face,"

"You're pretty no matter what so shhhhhhhh" She waved a finger in the air, which would definitely be in my face if we weren't on a FaceTime.

"Ummm, I look like an absolute dumbass bitch, which I am, so ya know." I shrugged lazily, earning a glare out of my good pal Mayonnaise.

"You're the piece of corn between my teeth," She said with the fakest glare possible.

"I love being insulted! Continue!" I gave a flippant smile, tilting my head. She rolled her eyes.

"Nah," She said, hanging up.

Rude.

I fell back onto my bed lazily, dropping my phone by my face. I stared up at the ceiling, getting lost in thought. For whatever reason, my thoughts drifted to Davey. He and I hadn't seen each other at call-backs, since the timing was separate for boys and girls.

He and I didn't know each other that well, but it seemed like he was a nice guy. And he definitely wasn't bad to look at, either.

I felt my cheeks grow warm and a smile grow on my face. It was nice meeting him, and I was pretty glad I met him.

(976 words)

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