AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The formidable director scoffed. “Why would I waste my precious time on any of those little airheads when I have the perfect fit already? Send them away.”
As the attendant scurried off with a slight squeal, Sammy tutted. “You know, just because you’re scary, it doesn’t mean you can do whatever you like.”
“Au contraire, my dear Samuel,” Genevieve purred. “It means that I can do precisely whatever I like. I know you won’t stop me.”
He rubbed his temples as if staving off a vicious migraine. “I’ve created a monster,” he muttered.
Genevieve laughed, deep and content. Her mind was already whirring, toes curling with excitement. This was going to be simply delicious.
4
EDEN
Nothing.
Eden reloaded her email inbox, giving in to the urge to chew on her thumbnail. The wheel of doom spun for a second. And then . . . still nothing.
She growled in frustration, throwing her phone across her bed and screwing her eyes shut. It had been two weeks. Two excruciating weeks of no news. This was always the worst part, the waiting. The hoping. The telling yourself not to get your hopes up, then getting them up anyway, then having them dashed after yet another rejection.
Everything she told herself to try and make herself feel better?that no news was good news, that they were a large company and things probably moved slowly, that perhaps she had given them the wrong email address?Eden knew it was all rubbish. They would tell her when they told her, and not a moment sooner. And she absolutely hated that.
Eden had been working extra shifts at the pub to try and distract herself. To burn off all her anxious energy. But the job, while physically tiring, left her brain free to pick apart every single second of the audition. Over and over again.
Her frantic reminiscing had managed to twist the true events into some kind of nightmarish horror story, where she blubbered and cried her whole way through the monologue, while Genevieve Howard’s eyes glowed red with heated disdain. The director had probably never seen an audition so bad. Eden had likely managed to set the record for worst monologue in the history of the company. The history of Shakespeare.
She groaned and smashed a pillow over her head, trying to shove the intrusive thoughts away, but it didn’t work. Eden had the entire day ahead of her to just sit inside and wait, because the pub was shut on Mondays. Every thirty seconds she checked her email, praying that the confirmation would come through. Now that another weekend had passed. But still . . . radio silence.
Rationally, she knew that this was completely normal. Directors took their time choosing their casts for a performance as big as this. International interest could be forcing the audition dates to last for weeks rather than for mere days, delaying the whole process. Even in small-scale shows, actors always had to face the nail-biting wait before hearing back.
Eden peeked out from under the pillow, snatching her phone up and reloading the emails anyway.
Still nothing.
Unbidden tears welled. This excruciating limbo had somehow managed to take over her entire life. Even though she had completely blown the audition, Eden guessed, ruining any chance she had with RBC in the future, she had accidentally fallen in love with the character of Beatrice.
Eden had known that choosing the Shylock monologue had been risky. But sometimes it paid off to take chances and do the unexpected. After plenty of research, including reading the book and watching several of Genevieve’s productions via shitty illegal recordings, she had concluded that Beatrice wasnot a simple character. She was not confined to her role as a “Shakespearean female.”
So, Eden had chosen Shylock. A notoriously complicated character and one of the more ambiguous antagonists, if you could even call him that. Certainly, modern audiences found the blatant anti-Semitism in poor taste.
But the emotion was transcendent. The sheer rage at the injustice of it all. That was the point, wasn’t it? The words were brutal, designed to challenge preconceptions. And Genevieve Howard seemed like the type of woman to rage against whatever box the world tried to put her in.
Eden tried not to think about the fact Genevieve was also a lesbian. Somehow that seemed too close, too humanizing. The image Eden had in her mind of Genevieve was like some bronze statue of an ancient king. Powerful and timeless, and beyond mortal trappings, such as sexual identity.
But that somehow made Genevieve all the more alluring. She was intoxicating, really. Even as Genevieve had been sitting there with pure disdain on her face, Eden had felt drawn to her. Excited to prove herself and to show what she could do. The thought that Eden had failed in front of such a woman was almost too much to bear.
Eden’s phone buzzed the familiar jingle of her ringtone filling the air. She squealed and half-fell off her creaky bed as she lunged for it, hands trembling. She swiped to answer without even bothering to look at the caller ID. It was probably Amanda. Or her boss. Or her mum. It wouldn’t be, couldn’t be . . .
“Y-yes? Hello?”
“Hello, am I speaking to Miss Eden Rowley?” A chipper female voice answered, crisp and posh sounding.
Eden’s heart was pounding like a jackhammer. “Yes, um, that’s me, I mean um . . . this is she.”
Kill me now.
“Miss Rowley, wonderful to hear your voice. My name is Kelly. I’m calling on behalf of The Royal Bard Company regarding a recent audition you attended.”
She was going to pass out. She was actually going to faint and hit her head and die. Or maybe just shrivel up and die right where she was. She couldn’t handle this?the apprehension, the adrenaline. Eden felt like she was going to throw up her meager breakfast.
