Eyes huge, I look at him.
He straightens, clearing his throat. “Actually, Mr. D’plume, Calypso and I are auditioning together?”
Mr. D’plume’s tired eyes shift up off his notes, a dark brow lifting. He states simply, “Why? I’ve already seen that. You’ll be auditioning with…” He glances at his notes. “…Agatha Armont.”
My mouth goes dry.
Mr. D’plume doesn’t seem to notice or care. “Calypso, join Marcus on the stage, please.”
Every organ in my body seems to come unhinged and slosh around, the world tipping off its axis. The moment I gather enough sense to feel the chill of the auditorium again, Lex is standing in front of me, closer than ever before. His hands are locked on my shoulders, and they may be the only thing keeping me upright. “You’re a natural, and you can do this.”
The words are particularly vague and generic, and, therefore, entirely unhelpful. A moment after Lex drops his hands and I force my legs to move toward the steps, Agatha’s trill voice stabs through my eardrums. “She can hardly walk. How is she going to manage to act?”
If only I knew.
I step into the spotlight, a place I swore I’d never attempt to enter again. It blinds me instantly, and my eyes water. I mentally prepared for Lex, not Marcus. Though I don’t know either of them very well, there’s something about Lex that is Kenneth.
And I know everything about Kenneth.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Mr. D’plume drones.
I exhale, turning to face Marcus. He’s already plastered something cocky onto his face as he sweeps back his brown hair, but it’s not easy and graceful. It’s not Kenneth.
My eyes narrow, and I’ve been in this class for over a year now. I know Agatha is the best actress here. And I know sheisn’tHarriet.
If I don’t get this part, she will.
Clenching my fists, I picture Kenneth. I picture Kenneth, and I tilt my chin back, like I’m looking down at royalty itself with disdain.
Marcus’s expression falters, and I scoff, because Kenneth’s would never.
“So,” I spit, “you caught me.”
I don’t hesitate, staring at Marcus as though I can kill him with my eyes alone.
“Now what?”
Lex
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sheer aggression is hard to mistake, and, oh, I love it. Marcus is a sloppy Kenneth, and I’m pretty sure my little sugar glider is scaring him, but if Calypso isn’t fantastic, I’ll be darned.
Despite the fact Marcus has misquoted several words of his script, Calypso hasn’t faltered in her flawless delivery. She is Harriet, caught red-handed, glaring at the handsome face of a man who could very well have her killed. Nothing but fire consumes her performance, as though every movement she makes is with the intent to dare the rich jerk to harm her.
She embraces her role like she’s known it all her life.
“I’ve seen enough,” Mr. D’plume cuts into the scene, his murmuring voice characteristically distant. Puffing a sigh, he writes something down. “Thank you, Marcus. Sound crew, can we get track one started?”
Track one. “Daring.” Harriet’s opening solo.
Calypso’s act falls to tatters as Marcus leaves, like the world she’s been seeing has shattered. She searches the class, eyes squinted. She rubs them, then links her hands together in front of her jeans. Her face burns visible red in the bright light.
A flickering sensation of guilt prickles up my spine, but I shove it aside. So she has to get over some stage fright. When she does, she’s brilliant. I don’t have to feel guilty for pushing her to embrace what she can do. It was her choice in the end; I only offered some incentive. Why is she even at this school if she doesn’t want to be something great? Heck, I’m paying her to help her.
So what if I gain a splash of twisted amusement from watching her?
The first strong notes come through the surround sound, andCalypso squeezes her eyes shut, awaiting her cue to start. Her lips part, and I hold my breath, gravitating toward the stage edge.
