Leo: Stage Fright Read online

  When 10.30 came and went, Lydia wasn't concerned. Auditions, even the first ones in the morning, tended to run behind schedule. Perhaps they had begun late.

  She decided to check the audition list to see who she followed. That way, when that person went in, she would have four or five minutes to really focus on her entrance.

  "Lydia? What are you doing here?"

  It was Robin. He'd been stretching in one of the corners and just spotted her.

  "Is that a joke?" she asked.

  "Hardly. I thought your audition was at 9 a.m."

  "No. A.J. signed me up for my usual time, 10.30." Lydia tried to stay calm, but already her heart was starting to pound furiously. "Robin, you know that's when I always audition."

  "But you changed it," he said, moving over to the bulletin board. "You put yourself down to go first, at 9 a.m."

  "That's impossible." Lydia rubbed her temple where a fierce headache was forming.

  "See for yourself."

  The audition list was posted on the bulletin board, which also held other audition notices, scholarship and job opportunities, and the business cards of private voice or movement instructors.

  Lydia stood before the board, staring at the white sheet of paper in numb disbelief.

  09.00 – LYDIA CRENSHAW

  09.15 – LEA DEUTCH

  09.30 – JERI MOLEN

  09.45 – VALERIE KEEL

  10.00 – MARK ANDREWS

  10.15 – SKYE SPENCER

  10.30 – LYDIA CRENSHAW CHAD NORMAN

  Someone had scratched out her name! And moved it to the 9 a.m. slot.

  "I thought it was kind of odd when you didn't show," Lydia heard Page say from behind her, "since you seemed so ready last night."

  A.J. entered the green room from the stage and glanced at her clipboard. "OK, folks, we're up to 10.45," she announced. "Which means Juan Peelmeyer, you're next."

  "Wait a second!" Lydia said. "I was supposed to be at 10.30!"

  A.J. looked up. "Lydia, where were you? You said you were coming at 9."

  Lydia frowned. "When did I say that?"

  "This morning." A.J. took a note from under the metal clip and unfolded it. "I have your note right here."

  "I didn't leave any note!"

  "It was pinned to my office chair when I got here this morning," A.J. insisted. "Lydia, you can't keep changing the schedule just because you think you're a star! You changed the time – I have the proof right here."

  Lydia put out her hand, demanding the note. A.J. rolled her eyes, and handed it to her.

  A.J. — put me down for 9 a.m.

  I want to go first – Lydia.

  "I didn't write this," Lydia said, holding the note at arm's length like it was a bomb. "Someone forged this!"

  "Let me have a look," Robin demanded, peering over her shoulder.

  "Oh, Lydia, give us a break!" A.J. said. "Look at the handwriting. Look at that little heart you always use in place of a dot above the i in the name. You wrote it. It's your note."

  "She's right," Robin said, studying the writing. "It's definitely yours, Lydia."

  "Whose side are you on?" Lydia challenged.

  To make matters worse, Keenan chose that moment to arrive with Jill on his arm. "What's going on?" he asked.

  "Lydia missed her audition," A.J. said, "but denies it's her fault."

  "Well, if you believe the queen, nothing is ever her fault," Keenan said with a smirk.

  "Stay out of this, Keenan," Lydia warned.

  "Listen, I need to get back in there," A.J. said, turning for the stage.

  Lydia grabbed A.J.'s arm, hard. "Not until we finish this!" she said hysterically. "I didn't write that note!"

  "Come on, Lydia, that's your handwriting!"

  "It may look like mine, but it isn't," Lydia tried to explain. "Someone is trying to sabotage me."

  "Lydia, calm down!" Robin shouted.

  "Don't try to lie your way out of it," A.J. snapped. "I know you too well. What did you do, oversleep again? Just admit it, you blew it."

  "Look, I'm here, ready to go on, as scheduled!" Lydia insisted.

  "No, Lydia," A.J. retorted firmly. "There is no room for you. The slots are filled." With that, she pulled her arm free and turned to leave the green room.

  "A.J., please!"

  Hearing Lydia's desperate plea, A.J. stopped. After a sigh, the stage manager said quietly, "I shouldn't do this, but I'll try and squeeze you in at the end of the scheduled auditions. If there's time."

  "Thank you." Lydia felt totally humiliated.

  "A.J., I'd happily give Lydia my slot," Page said, stepping to the centre of the room. She was dressed in a long coat, which was odd, considering the temperature outside. "Really. I can't imagine a show here without Lydia. She can take my time. And I'll go later, if everyone isn't too tired."

  Lydia was about to leap at Page's gracious offer when she saw the faces of the people in the room. They were ready to despise her for bumping sweet, wonderful Page.

  "No, Page," Lydia murmured. "You go on, as scheduled."

  "Thanks to you," A.J. said angrily, "we're now behind schedule." With that, she stomped out of the green room.

  Lydia marched to the far corner and threw herself into her chair. "I don't believe this!" she announced, to no one in particular.

  Those near Lydia found other places to wait. Lydia didn't care. She glared angrily around the room, furious that someone would try such a cheap little trick. Only a few people would have known her well enough to put that heart over her i. A.J. Robin, for sure. And...Keenan!

  He met her gaze straight on, then pointedly draped his arm round Jill.

  Of course. When Lydia and Keenan were together last summer, she wrote him lots of notes, all of them with a heart dotting the i. Lydia studied him, sitting so smugly with Jill glued to his side. He would do something like this. Just to get me.

  A.J. returned, studying the clipboard. "OK, Page, you're next!"

  Page crossed to the green room door and dropped her coat to the floor.

  "Mama mia!" Robin said, his mouth falling open.

  The other students gaped in amazement.

  Page was completely transformed. She looked just like Lydia in full make-up (including the trademark plum red lipstick), blonde hair, high heels and, most important, the white, figure-hugging, extremely sexy dress that was nearly identical to the Broadway costume.

  "She is Evita!" Robin gestured grandly towards Page.

  Page gave him a coy smile and a wink, then followed A.J. out of the green room on to the stage.

  Lydia sprang out of her seat and gestured towards the door. "I don't believe it. This is just too incredible."

  Robin grinned. "Page looks fantastic, doesn't she?"

  "Fantastic?" Lydia shouted in Robin's face. "She looks like me!" Lydia paced the room, fuming. "I mean, that's my walk. My hairstyle. She's even stolen my friends. Am I the only one to see it?"

  "Oh, get off it, Lydia," Robin said scornfully. "You're just jealous!"

  "Jealous? Of her?" Lydia threw up her arms in exasperation. "Puh-leeze."

  "I mean, just look at you." Robin pulled Lydia over to the full-length mirror set on the wall right by the door leading to the stage. "You don't look at all alike."

  Lydia stared at her image in dismay. She had planned to wear a white dress, too, and had even told Page her intentions. But when she had gone to her wardrobe that morning to get dressed, she remembered the dress had been stolen, along with all the rest of her clothes. She'd had to borrow one of her mother's dresses and pin it at the sides.

  "But this isn't how I usually look, you know that." Lydia could feel the hysteria rising inside her. "Page is twisting your thoughts. Like she's twisting A.J. and everyone else round here."

  "It was your idea that Page and I get together," Robin reminded her. "What's the matter? Can't take the heat?"

  Lydia's head throbbed. He
r hands shook from the anger she was trying so desperately to keep inside. "Of course I can take it. What I can't take is someone trying to become me. That was my idea to dress like Evita. I told Page, and she stole my idea."

  Robin stared at her like she was from another planet. "Lydia, I was wrong. You're not just jealous," he said, loud enough for everyone in the green room to hear. "You are petty, mean, and a total paranoid!"

  People were staring at Lydia in complete disgust.

  Lydia turned helplessly in a circle. It's a conspiracy. It has to be.

  But who would lead it? A.J. Could A.J have been so upset about Eric that she plotted this whole weird psych-out? First introducing Page to Lydia, then having Page take over her personality. But then Robin would have had to have been in on it, too.

  My God. Lydia slumped in her chair. I don't have any friends.

  Hours passed. One by one, people left the green room to audition, returning only to grab their things and leave. Lydia was convinced that A.J. would make certain that they'd run out of time before Lydia could show her stuff.

  Finally, five minutes before the auditions were scheduled to end, A.J. wandered into the green room. "OK, Lydia," she said, stiffly. "They've agreed to let you in."

  By now, Lydia was a complete wreck. Her head still ached, she had sweated through her outfit, and her skin and hair felt greasy. She tried to pump herself up by thinking, They've saved the best for last. Maybe the day would have a happy ending after all.

  Standing in the wings, she heard A.J. announce her name. In every previous audition, when A.J. walked by her she'd whispered, "Good luck, Lydia!" But today she passed without a word.

  I'm on my own, Lydia thought. She tilted her chin and threw her head back. Fine. I'll show her.

  Lydia moved downstage centre, smiled at the piano player, then began her well-rehearsed song. She was no more than one or two measures into the song when a loud whisper was heard from the wings. "This is terrible!"

  Lydia stopped cold. "Beg your pardon?" she called to the wings.

  "Show us something new!" the voice rasped.

  Lydia peered into the darkness. "Who's saying that?" she demanded. "Who's backstage?"

  Bill Glover, seated down front with Garrett, stood up and leaned over the lip of the stage. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "Lydia, there's no one here but you, Garrett and me."

  "But I distinctly heard someone tell me I was terrible!" Lydia said, her voice shaking.

  "Maybe it was your conscience," Garrett said drily.

  Taking another step to the wings, she squinted at backstage. No one. Whoever had been there was gone.

  "Lydia, if you're having a problem," Bill said calmly, "take a deep breath and start over. Take it nice and easy."

  She knew what Bill was doing. He was humouring her, like he humoured the real amateurs who had the gall to try out at DYT. She refused to be intimidated by that. She walked back to centre stage, took a moment, and began again.

  But it was no use. She'd lost her concentration. The pent-up tension of the past few days overcame her and she struggled to get through her song, dropping enough lines for Lydia to know that someone listening would think she hadn't rehearsed enough. She was almost in tears when the final chord rang from the piano.

  "Thank you, Lydia," Bill said without a hint of sympathy. "You know how this works. We'll put the names of the people we want to call back for a second look on the DYT message line by tomorrow morning."

  "Bill, I know it's late. But can I have another try?" Lydia knew she was begging but she could see the greatest role of her life slipping out of her grasp. "Just give me a moment. I promise the next time I will—"

  "That's all right, Lydia, we've seen enough." Bill rose from his seat and motioned for Garrett to do the same.

  Lydia stood alone on the brightly lit stage, watching them exit through the auditorium. OK, she thought, this wasn't my best audition by a long stretch. Still, they’ll remember my previous work here at DYT. They know what I'm capable of doing.

  Lydia was still standing there, hoping for a miracle, when the stage lights went out. She was forced to find her way out in the dark.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Busy!" Lydia slammed the phone down again. It was Sunday noon, and she had been calling the Dallas Youth Theatre's answering machine since ten. No doubt everyone else who had auditioned also wanted to hear if he or she had been called back.

  Just when Lydia was about to start crawling the walls, she got through.

  "You've reached the Dallas Youth Theatre." AJ.'s flat Southern drawl was heard on the line. "Callbacks for Evita will be held at 7 p.m. today. The following people have been called back."

  The list was a long one. A.J. started with the bit parts and worked her way to the lead roles.

  "Come on," Lydia said, although she knew no one was on the other end. "Hurry!"

  At last, A.J. announced the actors called back for the role of Che Guevara, the charismatic and dangerous Marxist rebel. It was no surprise that Keenan was among the three actors called back for Che. In fact, this cheered Lydia, because it signaled that the DYT seemed to be going with its regulars in the pivotal roles.

  "Now for the role of Evita—" Lydia murmured along with A.J.

  "Jill Swenson and Page Adams."

  "What about me?" Lydia hung up the phone and dialed again. There must have been some mistake. She listened to the message in its entirety. There was no mistake. Only two actors had been called back – Keenan's girlfriend Jill, and Page.

  "This is unbelievable," Lydia said out loud.

  "What is?" Jake asked, passing through the kitchen.

  "I didn't get called back for the play," Lydia told her brother.

  "I'm sure," Jake scoffed. "You're their main actress. It's a total mistake. Call A.J. and straighten it out."

  Lydia nodded. Of course it was a mistake. She had never failed to make a callback for a part in her life. She waited for her brother to leave the room and then dialed A.J.'s home.

  She decided to give A.J. the benefit of the doubt. So when her friend answered the phone, Lydia kept her tone friendly, joking about how she hadn't heard her name on the list. There obviously had been some sort of foul-up.

  "No," A.J. told her, stiffly. "The list is correct."

  "You're telling me I didn't get called back?" Lydia was trying without success to keep her voice under control. "Not even for some minor role?"

  "If your name's not on the list, you weren't called back."

  "You did this! Or Page! Or you and Page and Robin together!" Lydia knew she was ranting but she couldn't stop herself.

  "Lydia, get a hold of yourself," A.J. responded calmly.

  "She put you up to it! Page! First she stole my friends, then my look, and now she's got my part!"

  "Oh, come off it!" A.J.exploded. "This may come as a shock, Lydia, but there a lot of actors who have as much, if not more, talent than you! You can't play all the leads. Besides, not only were you late, you blew your audition. You can't blame that on Page. You can't blame that on anyone but yourself!"

  The memory of the audition was fresh in her mind. Someone had whispered from the wings and deliberately tried to make her blow it. Could it have been Page? Of course.

  "Page is a breath of fresh air in this theatre," A.J. stormed on. "She's kind and giving, and everything you're not. And now you want to destroy her. Well, I'm not going to help you. You're just jealous."

  Lydia was stunned by her friend's angry words. She hung up and bolted out of the front door. Lydia desperately needed to talk to someone – if only to confirm she wasn't going crazy.

  But who? She ran through the now short list of people she considered her friends.

  Robin. We've been best friends for eons. Lydia felt sure that, unlike A.J., when push came to shove, Robin would always be there.

  Since he only lived a few blocks away, Lydia ran to his house, hoping to catch him at home
. She found him in the back yard, mowing the lawn.

  "We need to talk," she shouted over the sound of the mower. "Now."

  Robin pushed in the choke, killing the engine. "OK," he said, wiping his brow. "What's so important?"

  Lydia rehashed her fight with A.J., and told him her feelings about Page. Robin, who before had always been a willing shoulder to cry on, was cool.

  "It's not Page's fault that they don't want you for the role," he said.

  "Robin, I know this sounds weird, but I think there's more to Page than meets the eye," she warned. "I think everything she does or says is a big pose, and I'm afraid she might be using you."

  "Using me? For what?" he asked sceptically.

  "To get to me," Lydia said. "I think somehow Page wants to become me, play my parts – to have my life in the theatre."

  Robin rolled his eyes. "Lydia, we've known each other for a long time. I've seen you through some pretty weird situations, but this one tops it all."

  "Think about it," Lydia insisted. "Why else would she cut her hair exactly like mine, wear my exact colour of lipstick, the same heels and dress, and walk like me, if she weren't trying to become me? Robin, if you help me, we can prove it."

  "There was a time when I would have swallowed what you're saying, and have done anything you wanted," he said coldly. "But those days are gone. Lydia, you're being ridiculous and frankly I've had it with you."

  "But I thought we were friends."

  "You're right," he said. "We were friends."

  "Robin..."

  "Oh, Lydia, stop acting!" He was getting angry. "I know all about what you told Page!"

  "Page? I didn't tell her anything!"