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Leona breaks the tension by asking me another question. ‘Is this something you learned from Zayan, Farah? This understanding of the depth of theatre?’
My brows furrow in confusion before I smooth them out, remembering Pierre’s instruction to always look pleasant and appealing. Beside me, Zayan’s face pinches in annoyance before shuttering into a blank mask. ‘I’d say I’ve learned a lot from Zayan. This is just one of the things.’
Before Leona can get another question in, Zayan continues. ‘And I can say, without a shred of doubt, that Farah is one of the best people I’ve had the luck of working with. She’s a star in the making. If you should keep your eye on anyone, it’s definitely her.’
Leona laughs and moves the conversation on to another question that allows Zayan to plug the play even more. We share thinly veiled barbs with our rivals, and pretend to be besotted with one another when needed. For the entire interview, I truly feel the sense of partnership with Zayan – that we’re on the same team, wanting the same things, wanting this lifestyle.
I want this world, his world, so badly.
I want to have my own publicity manager. An agent.
I want to be able to hear the LSDCATS say You’re not good enough and not break under the weight of their words. I want to have an interviewer give me their full attention, and I want to dodge questions for myself.
I want to be the star.
@Aamna_Duo: @TheTragedies, answer us, we just watched the interview, PLEASE: ARE FARAH AND ZAYAN DATING???
@Laibastan3: @Aamna_Duo Are you OK? Zayan and Farah are nothing but friends. My babies Zaiba are coming back.
@CallmeZarah: @Laibastan3 Clearly, you’re delulu. Did you not SEE Farah and Zayan’s interview? The body language? Those smiles? The compliments? They are IN LOVE.
@Laibastan3: @CallmeZarah You can’t possibly think they’re going to be good together. Farah isn’t right for Zayan. They don’t even look good together.
@CallmeZarah: @Laibastan3 Uhh, Farah is BEAUTIFUL.
@Laibastan3: @CallmeZarah Eh, she’s all right. But Laiba is drop-dead gorgeous. And she actually looks brown.
@TheatreGeek: Yeah, @CallmeZarah, not that I’m hating on Farah and Zayan being together, but don’t you think it’s a little sus that @TheTragedies picked a white-passing actress for the lead when they talked about diversity? Is she even talented, or does she just look good next to Zayan?
@CallmeZarah: @TheatreGeek Light-skinned people are still brown …
@TheatreGeek: @CallmeZarah I guess …
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
‘We need the final scene to be really dramatic,’ Anushka says. ‘Heer’s poisoned after taking a bite of the laddu, and I want that moment to be extremely intense. Not only is Ranjha’s reaction going to grasp their hearts, but the audience is realizing that this bright, beautiful character is dying. It’s a loss for everyone.’
The weight of the scene sits on my shoulders. The pressure feels huge. There are only four weeks left till the curtain goes up, and Anushka’s right; the final scene needs to leave a mark on the audience, to resonate in their minds long after they’ve left. Heer’s death is one of the only scenes I have where it’s just me on the stage – no ladies-in-waiting, no attendants, no guards.
Just the spotlight and me.
Ever since our interview – my first taste of really being in the entertainment industry – my dream of being a star, of making my theatre debut, has grown wilder and wilder. It’s rooted deep into my mind and refuses to let go. Now every scene holds more weight. Every moment on stage feels like one step closer to my dream.
‘I can do it,’ I reply, injecting my voice with confidence. ‘Do you want to do a run-through now?’
The Limelight is peppered with cast members today; Zayan is noticeably absent, because he’s got his first audition for another movie. I’ve kept my phone by my side all day to hear his updates – good or bad.
‘Sure,’ Anushka says, and we make our way to the stage.
I roll my shoulders back and let the feeling of being on stage wrap round me like a dupatta. I breathe in Heer and exhale her lines like they’re my own thoughts. The rest of the world fades away as I get to the monumental death scene – my voice rising as the words slip past my lips, my heart ripping apart at the thought of never seeing Ranjha ever again. When I return to reality, crashing back into my own body, Anushka’s clapping.
I smile shyly. ‘I did OK?’
‘OK? Farah, it was great! I have a few notes, though. I think you could stretch your arms out a little more as you collapse on to the stage, make it seem like Heer is clawing for her life and bring a sense of urgency to the scene.’
We go over her notes and redo the scene again, and again, until exhaustion burrows into the marrow of my bones. I take some time out of the day to work with my understudy – a fellow Pakistani actress – just in case something goes wrong on opening night.
By the time we’re done with rehearsal, I’m ready to fall straight into bed. The Tragedies come together – Nur from backstage, David from working with the tech crew, Ben from running lines with the other actors. While they chatter around me, I check my phone and see Zayan hasn’t messaged yet.
