AllFreeNovel
Share Us
David raises his hand eagerly. ‘I’m going to be the writer – I’ll adapt whatever text we want to do for the stage.’
Anushka leans into his shoulder. ‘I’m going to be the director.’ She points to Nur, who smiles shyly. ‘Nur is our resident fashion student, so she’ll do the costumes.’
I glance again at the girl, mentally acknowledging that her outfit looks ten times more put together than anything I could have thought of. She should definitely design an entire play’s worth of costumes.
‘What about you?’ I ask Ben.
Ben grins, all teeth, all mirth. ‘I’m going to be like you. An actor. On the stage.’
‘Really,’ Nur adds, her voice coated in excitement, ‘we’ve got this all thought out. Everyone will get the role they were once ignored for – this time on our terms.’
I’m still struggling to understand. All of this feels surreal. ‘What about the LSDCATS? Do you think we’re going to rival them?’
‘Yes, and I don’t anticipate it being much of a fight,’ Ben replies. ‘Aside from that one reply, which has now been deleted, the LSDCATS’ socials have been deathly quiet ever since your tweet blew up.’
I hate that I have to be the one who voices all these concerns, but if I’m going back on stage, I want it – need it – to be a sure thing. Not a chance, but an understood fact. ‘OK, so they’ve got a little bad press right now. But the LSDCATS are huge. They’re going to recover from this. Conversations on Twitter about social issues have an expiration date, and that’s tied to the attention span of the world. And when it does die down, and the LSDCATS return, then our play won’t have much of a standing. It’s no longer going to be a rivalry so much as an annihilation.’
David passes me his phone this time. ‘We had the same thoughts. Until The Tragedies’ account got this message today.’
Hello! This is Lacey Parker from Parker’s Artists’ Agency. I’m Zayan Amin’s agent, and I am reaching out on his behalf to show early interest in The Tragedies’ production. Mr Amin believes strongly in supporting marginalized voices, and I’d love to set up a meeting with the writer of the post and Mr Amin, if you’re interested.
Parker’s Artists’ Agency
I’m pretty sure my jaw must be on the floor. Or at least hanging a little. Waking up to all the retweets and support was already surreal, but this? Celebrity involvement? That’s on a whole other level.
Anushka can’t contain her excitement as she speaks. ‘I checked out her account, and it’s legit. We spoke on the phone, and she wanted to set up a really relaxed, quick get-to-know-you kind of meeting. I made it clear that we didn’t have any concrete plans yet, but that we were eager to start as soon as possible.’
‘OK,’ I say cautiously. ‘When’s the meeting?’
‘Today.’
‘What?!’ I ask incredulously. ‘We’re meeting Zayan Amin today?’
‘No,’ David says. ‘You’re meeting Zayan Amin today.’
‘Me?’ I squeak. ‘Why me?’
‘Well, Lacey said she wanted to meet with the writer of the post. Which is you,’ Nur says slowly.
‘OK, but – but I mean … guys …’ I splutter uselessly.
They stare back at me patiently, waiting for me to put into words what my problem is. I love the idea of helping The Tragedies form their own play, and I have enough anger to want to rival the LSDCATS, but this sudden responsibility feels heavy. It’s one thing to disappoint myself, but it’s a whole other thing to let a group of other people down. Again.
‘What if I say something stupid? I’m not a professional,’ I finally say, nervousness making me babble. ‘I mean, I want to be. More than anything. And I suppose an aspiring actress who wants to make it big should be able to talk to industry people, but –’
‘Look –’ Anushka reaches out and grabs my hand with hers, stilling my swirling worries – ‘it’s just one meeting. We’re not agreeing to anything – even the play. It’s not set in stone.’
‘Plus you owe us,’ David adds, and Anushka throws him a glare. ‘What? She’s the one who came in apologizing.’
He’s not wrong. I do still owe them, and I know I’d regret not going to this meeting. I’d stay up all night, replaying the fact that I walked away. Tormenting myself with half-baked futures, the could’ve beens of my life. Ignoring this opportunity would be like turning my back on my ambitions, and even if I’ve got dewdrops of doubt dripping through my thoughts from yesterday’s audition, I’m not ready to give up yet.
‘OK, I’ll do it. When’s the meeting?’
‘Looks like … right now,’ Ben says, while looking out the window.
I’m about to ask what he means when the door to the coffee shop swings open. My chair is closest, and I narrowly miss being hit. I turn to give the individual an affronted look, but shock stops me.
The soft gasp from Nur, the abrupt noise from David, the excited shake of Anushka’s hand on my own, and even Ben’s foot kicking my chair – they all blend into the background. My focus is entirely on him.
