Erika clears her throat.
“Our Juliet”—God, please, please, please, please—”is Miss Taylor.”
Yes!
My stomach soars as my heart pounds. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.
Everyone applauds and my chest feels like it’s going to explode with pride.
I’m Juliet.
Me.
The no one from nowhere with no experience.
Hell, yes!
I glance at Holt. He’s not looking at me, but he’s smiling. Probably thinking “I told you so” and giving himself credit for making me audition.
“Finally,” Erika says, looking around the room, “casting the final two male roles caused a heated discussion among the audition panel, but I think we’ve made the right decision. It’s not an obvious casting choice, but then, sometimes they’re the most interesting.”
Holt sits up in his chair. I know he wants Mercutio. He’s done the role before, and from what I hear, he nailed it.
Connor would be perfect for Romeo, and I think he and I would work well together. He looks over at me and holds up his crossed fingers.
“In this year’s production, Mercutio will be played by Mr. Baine. The role of Romeo goes to Mr. Holt.”
The class applauds, but I don’t join them.
I feel like a lead weight has dropped into my stomach.
By the looks on their faces, Holt and Connor feel the same way.
All three of us stare at one another, not sure what the hell just happened.
Erika claps to signal the end of the lesson.
“That’s it, everyone. If you didn’t receive a role, then you’ll be in the chorus. Don’t worry, you’ll still have plenty to do. Please pick up a script and a rehearsal schedule before you leave.”
People congratulate me on their way out, but I barely hear them.
Connor comes over and gives me a hug.
“Congrats,” he says warmly. “You’ll be an amazing Juliet, I have no doubt.”
“I wanted you to be Romeo,” I say, aware that Holt hasn’t moved from his chair.
“That would have been nice,” he says, “but I’m not gonna lie, Mercutio is a kick-ass role. I mean, ‘a plague on both your houses’? Doesn’t get much better than that.”
When he leaves, I walk in a daze to Erika’s desk to pick up a script. It has my name on it next to the character name—Juliet. I see the only other script left there. Romeo—Ethan Holt.
No.
No.
No.
“Miss Taylor? Are you all right?”
I try not to show how sick I feel. “Uh … yeah. Fine.”
She smiles. “I would have thought you’d be happier about getting your first leading role. It’s one of the classics. Very few actresses will ever get to play Juliet.”
“Oh, I know,” I say. “God, I’m thrilled. Really. I just…”
Erika looks at me expectantly.
“She doesn’t want me as her Romeo,” Holt says as he comes and stands beside me. “And quite frankly, that makes two of us. You knew I wanted Mercutio. And you knew how much I fucking hated Romeo. What is this bullshit?”
“In the immortal words of the Rolling Stones, Mr. Holt, you can’t always get what you want. You wanted Mercutio because you’ve done the role before, and you’d be comfortable doing it again. Being an actor isn’t about being comfortable. It’s about challenging yourself. I know you hate Romeo, and that’s one of the reasons you were cast. You’re not the typical romantic hero. You’re brash and cynical and sometimes, downright rude. You have an edge I think Romeo needs. Likewise, Mr. Baine has a sensitivity that will make him a sympathetic Mercutio. Believe me, I didn’t make this decision lightly. I knew you’d be resistant, and considering I have to direct you, I just made my job a whole lot harder. I happen to think if I can draw the performance out of you I think you’re capable of, it’ll be worth it.”
Holt glares at her and crosses his arms over his chest.
“What if I refuse to do it?” he asks. “Because even if it was possible for me to comprehend playing such a pussified dipshit, which I can’t, I highly doubt Taylor here would be thrilled about me doing it.”
Erika looks at me questioningly.
“It’s true,” I say. “He’s an asshole.”
Erika places her hands on the desk and hangs her head.
“And what do you suggest? That you play Mercutio and Mr. Baine plays Romeo?”
“Yes!” Holt says. “He’d be great at the lame-ass lovey-dovey stuff. I could just die loudly and call it a night. Everyone wins.”
“No, they don’t, Mr. Holt, because you’ll have achieved nothing in your development as an actor, and I’ll miss out on exploiting the remarkable chemistry I witnessed between you and Miss Taylor at the auditions.”
Holt stops dead. “Is that why you cast me in this role? Because of that stupid fucking mirror exercise? Jesus, Erika!”
“That’s not the only reason, but it’s a part of it. Do you think that sort of chemistry comes along every day? Because I’m here to tell you, it doesn’t.”
“But that’s … It wasn’t something that I … I can’t just—”
“Ethan,” Erika says. “I understand dealing with that kind of connection is scary, but it’s exactly what you need to do to grow. You’re so talented in so many ways, but anything that requires you to be open and vulnerable with another person is your Achilles’ heel, and believe me when I say you won’t get very far in this industry, or this course, or life, if it continues to be a problem.”