Shooting Star (7 page)

She turned on her heel and went back indoors.

“Stop being so…silly,” I said to Sean before he could say another word. “I would
never
have gone out with you.” Then I pounded along the path after Nydia.

And it
was
funny watching my mum and Mr Martinez singing a duet, while my mum played the piano badly. It was cringingly, hilariously, dreadfully funny, but I couldn’t laugh because all I could think about was that my life kept on getting more and more complicated, and there didn’t seem to be anything I could do about it.

That wasn’t funny at all.

Spotlight! The Movie Musical

Program of Events for Group Audition workshops

9—11 a.m.

You will be called in individually to meet the producers, casting directors and some cast members. You will then have a Polaroid photo taken (subject to applicable parental consent forms).

11—12 p.m.

You will perform your musical piece and read a script provided by the panel.

12—1 p.m.

Break for lunch.

1—3 p.m.

You will be put into groups of six to workshop scenes and numbers from Spotlight! The Movie Musical. You will be assigned a rehearsal director. Groups are non-negotiable unless your rehearsal director tells you to move.

3—5 p.m.

Your group will perform for the selection panel.

Sapphire Blue Productions thanks you for your patience and participation in this process.

The first bad thing to happen the next day was that Anne-Marie was not allowed to audition. The second thing was that I lost my two best friends.

When Mum handed over the parental consent forms for me, Nydia and Anne-Marie, she mentioned that she’d signed the forms on behalf of Anne-Marie and Nydia’s parents. Then they asked her for a letter from both sets of parents giving her the authority to sign the forms and of course Mum didn’t have one. Mum phoned Nydia’s parents and they faxed through consent straightaway and spoke to Christina Darcy on the phone, so Nydia was fine. But we couldn’t get hold of either one of Anne-Marie’s parents. Anne-Marie tried phoning them, Mum tried and even the studio called their offices, but the best we could do was leave messages.

“Couldn’t she start the audition process?” Mum asked Christina, her arms around Anne-Marie’s shoulders.
“So she won’t have to make up time once we get through to her mum and dad?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Parker,” Christina Darcy said. “It’s the conditions of insurance. We can’t advance with Anne-Marie until we have the correct paperwork.”

“Typical, this is typical!” Anne-Marie had said, but not in a stroppy way. She spoke in a small, shaky voice, the sort that might cry at any minute.

“I’ll keep trying,” Mum promised, clutching her phone. “I’ll try your dad’s office here. I’m sure they’ll be able to get a call to him.”

“Yes, because he’s bound to pick up the phone to his secretary,” Anne-Marie said unhappily. “It’s just his daughter he ignores.”

“Everybody listen, please,” Christina Darcy called out to the fifty or so of us in the holding room. “You will be called out in alphabetical order, by surname. Please have your sheet music ready. Remember – smile, relax, be yourself. OK?” We all murmured our assent.

“Good – Alexis Ackerman? Come through, please.”

“I must be next,” Nydia said anxiously, clutching her sheet music. “I feel nervous.”

“At least it will be over with,” I reassured her. “The trouble with being a P is that you are just enough along to be in the middle bit where they forget you,
and not near enough the end to be memorable.”

“Well, at least you are getting to do it!” Anne-Marie snapped. She looked over at my mum who was still on the phone, but I could tell by the look on Mum’s face that she hadn’t managed to track down one of Anne-Marie’s parents yet.

Mum still hadn’t got hold of them when it was finally my turn to go in. The room that had been full of chatting, buzzing kids had dwindled down to about ten, including me and Anne-Marie, because as soon as you’d had your chat and sung your song, you were taken off to wait in another room. I don’t know if that was so the ones going in last wouldn’t have an unfair advantage or just so the others couldn’t tell us how scary it had been and make us run a mile. But either way, when there were only a few of us left, it was impossible for me not to talk to Kirsty O’Brien.

We hadn’t spoken so far that morning, even though I knew she’d seen me and I knew that she knew I’d seen her. We’d glanced at each other and spent a lot of time trying not to look like we’d noticed each other – now it was impossible.

“Oh, hi!” I said as if I’d just spotted her. It made me look and feel like an idiot, but at least it gave us an excuse to start talking.

“Hi there!” Kirsty looked just as fake-surprised as me. We both laughed and smiled at each other.

“So you’re in next?” I asked her. She nodded.

“I’m terrified,” she grinned and her eyes sparkled. She was really pretty, but in a nice friendly way. The sort of way that made you think she’d be nice to be friends with if she wasn’t on the verge of dating your ex-boyfriend.

“Well, break a leg,” I said. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Is she OK?” Kirsty nodded over to where Anne-Marie was sitting, her head resting on my mum’s shoulder as Mum talked on the phone.

“Parent problems,” I told Kirsty. “Or lack of parent problems. She’s got no one to sign her form.”

“That sucks,” Kirsty said. “My mom and dad are divorced, but I think they’re more cool now than they were when they were married.”

“Me too!” I said.

“Kirsty O’Brien!” Christina Darcy called out Kirsty’s name.

“I’d better go,” she said. “Keep your fingers crossed for me.”

“I will, Kirsty,” I said, watching her go. No wonder Danny liked her. I tried to imagine what I would feel like inside if I saw Danny Harvey and Kirsty O’Brien holding hands. But I didn’t seem to feel anything; not
cross or sad or jealous at all. I decided it had to be because of all the confusing and complicated things that were happening at the moment. My poor brain could probably only stand thinking about so many things, and Sean and his dad and Anne-Marie had got it working at full capacity. If my brain didn’t want to deal with the idea of Danny and a new girlfriend I was OK with that.

“Oh
no!”
I heard Anne-Marie sob, just before she ran off towards the toilets.

“What’s up?” I hurried over to Mum.

“Her dad’s out of reach – on some mountain where there’s only a satellite phone that doesn’t seem to be working. And her mum is in China, so nowhere near LA at all. I don’t know why she told that poor child she’d visit her here. Apparently she’s in the middle of organising a show. Her assistant told me she was not to be disturbed unless someone was seriously ill or dead. I told the girl the circumstances, but she said interrupting her boss would get her the sack…” Mum trailed off, looking exasperated. “If I was in China I’d
interrupt
that woman. I’d
interrupt
her and ask why she’d bothered to have a child!”

I tried to think of something to say, but I couldn’t think of anything. I’d always known that Anne-Marie’s parents were hard to get hold of, but I’d always assumed
that if she really needed them they’d be there. But they weren’t. I couldn’t imagine how she must feel.

“I’d better go and see if she’s OK,” I said. But before I could Christina Darcy called out my name.

“Ruby Parker!” I froze to the spot and looked at Mum.

“Go on, darling, you have to go,” she said.

“But Anne-Marie…?” I looked over to where the toilets were.

“I’ll go,” Mum said.

“Ruby Parker!” Christina Darcy looked right at me.

“Go on, good luck,” Mum urged me.

It felt wrong leaving Anne-Marie on her own in the loo when she was having such a terrible day. As I walked towards Christina Darcy, who was standing in the doorway of the rehearsal room frowning at me, I wondered if
I
was a terrible person. What sort of person put an audition before a friend and hid Sean’s secret from everyone, not to mention having funny feelings about him when Anne-Marie was supposed to be his girlfriend. I supposed that I had to be a bad person. I had to be a
terrible
person, because a good person would not have left their friend crying all alone in the loo.

I walked into the studio feeling really bad, and worse still when I saw who was sitting on the panel alongside the directors and casting people. It was Sean. He smiled
at me and I thought about what he’d said the night before by the pool, the fluttery feeling I got in my chest when I looked at him, and Anne-Marie in the toilets feeling so let down and alone.

“Can you hand your sheet music to the pianist, please, Ruby,” Ralph Fearson, who was to be the film’s director, said. I stood there holding ‘Good Morning Baltimore’ in my hands, frozen to the spot.

“Ruby?” Mr Fearson repeated.

“Rubes – are you OK?” Sean asked me with concern.

“No,” I told Sean. “Anne-Marie is crying in the toilets because her parents aren’t around to sign the consent form and she knows that if she doesn’t audition today she’ll lose her chance of being in the film.”

“That’s sad, but it’s not your problem,” Christina Darcy told me. “We’ve all tried to get through to her parents. They’re simply not available. Our insurance won’t let us audition her without the proper paperwork.”

“So you see, Ruby, there’s nothing you can do to help,” Mr Fearson said, quite kindly.

“I know she can’t audition without the right bits of paper,” I said, hearing my voice as if another much more rebellious person was speaking. “But I could go to her and try to make her feel better. You could let me do that.”

“Ruby.” This time Mr Fearson sounded much less
kind. “If you walk out of here now you will be blowing your chance to be in this movie.”

“Only if that’s what you want,” I said. I couldn’t believe what I was saying, but somehow I couldn’t stop myself. “After all, isn’t
Spotlight!
all about friendship and loyalty? Isn’t Arial exactly the sort of person who’d give up the spotlight and the stage for her friends, especially if they were in trouble. If I go to Anne-Marie now I’m showing you that I can be just as brave as Arial, just as determined and have enough belief in myself to know that the whole world’s not going to fall to pieces if you tell me to go home. Which you might do after you hear me singing anyway as I only started rehearsing last night and my mum really can’t play the piano.”

As I finished speaking I clapped my hands over my mouth. It was as if I’d been possessed by the spirit of a much braver and probably more stupid girl.

Christina Darcy and Ralph Fearson looked at each other. Christina raised one eyebrow in an expression that could have either meant “execute her now” or “the girl’s got guts”. I didn’t hold out much hope for the latter.

“What do you think, Sean?” Ralph asked him.

“Ruby’s right,” Sean said, gazing at me in a way that made me feel like my knees might dissolve. “And I
think she’s already shown us more of Arial than any actress we’ve seen so far.”

Ralph shrugged. “OK, Ruby, you have fifteen minutes. But just so you know, it wasn’t your heroic little speech that got you that time, it was our leading man’s admiration. What Sean wants Sean gets. Now go and don’t be late back.”

“Thank you,” I said, racing to the door.

“Oh and by the way…?”

I stopped and looked back at Mr Fearson.

“If you sing half as well as you talk, you could be our Arial.”

When I got to the toilets, Mum was outside a cubicle. “Ruby! What are you doing here?” she asked, concerned.

“I said I had to come and see Anne-Marie,” I told her, then spoke at the cubicle door. “Annie? I’ve only got fifteen minutes. Open up, come and talk to me. Mum’s going to wait outside, aren’t you, Mum?”

“Am I?” Mum asked. I scowled at her. “I mean, yes, I am. I’ll be outside, love.”

“She’s gone,” I called as the loo door swung shut. After a couple of seconds the cubicle door opened and Anne-Marie came out. Her eyes were puffy, swollen and
red. Her nose was running and her face was streaked with tears. She peered at her reflection in the mirror.

“I look a sight,” she said, sniffing and rubbing her eyes.

“I can’t believe this has happened,” I said, putting an arm around her. “It’s so unfair.”

“I know,” Anne-Marie said, splashing her face with cold water. “I know it’s unfair. But I
can
believe it, that’s the problem. I go on every day as if it doesn’t really matter that I never see my parents, as if it’s all a bit of a joke that I have my own credit card and can do almost anything I like. Then something like this happens…and this is bad, Ruby. This is gut-wrenchingly awful. But what if I really
did
need them? What if it was a matter of life or death? Would they be there for me then?”

“Of course they would,” I said, hugging her close as she burst into tears again.

“Are you sure? Because I’m not,” Anne-Marie sobbed into my neck. “Sometimes I feel so alone and then I remember I’ve got friends like you. Friends who will walk out of a really important audition to see how I am, and I realise that I
am
lucky after all. I’d have never left an audition for you, you know.”

“That’s because you’re not stupid,” I said, wondering what Anne-Marie would think if she knew all the facts. “Wash your face and put some lipgloss on,” I told her. “I
don’t think this is over for you after all. Know why? Because Sean is sitting in on the auditions too. And I heard that Sean gets what Sean wants. All you have to do is ask him to rearrange an audition for you after you’ve got hold of your parents and he will.”

“No,” Anne-Marie shook her head. “I can’t do that.”

“What? But why?” I asked her.

“Because I wanted to do this on my own,” Anne-Marie said. “I know I was going on earlier about how me and Sean would have chemistry and that he could put in a word for me – but I also know Sean. I know he’d never do that. I knew that if I got a part in
Spotlight!
it would be down to me and not Sean. Even if he did make a fuss and get me another audition I’d always know that I’d needed help and I don’t want to do that. I want to achieve things on my own merit.”

“Annie.” I put the back of my hand on her forehead. “Have you got a temperature?”

Anne-Marie laughed and batted my hand away. “I’m not quite as shallow as everyone thinks, you know,” she told me.

“I know that better than anyone,” I said.

“Well, your fifteen minutes is almost up. You’d better get back,” Anne-Marie said. “I’ll see you at the end of the day.”

“Keep the faith,” I told her as we walked out of the room.

“And you break a leg!” Anne-Marie called after me as I raced back to the rehearsal room. Looking back I sort of wish I had broken an actual leg. A spell in hospital would have kept me from getting myself into the most trouble ever.

It was hard to get my mind back on the workshops, but in the end I got carried way by the characters I was playing. I used all of the confusing thoughts and feelings that were whirling around in my head about Sean, Anne-Marie and everything, and tried to turn them into the way my characters might be thinking and feeling.

In the workshops we were separated into groups that the directors had picked. I had hoped to be in one with Nydia, but that didn’t work out. As I glanced around at my group it didn’t take me long to see that not only was I in Kirsty O’Brien’s group I was also in Henry Dufault’s. I didn’t know quite what to make of this. Kirsty was obviously Arial material, so the fact that I was in a group with her made it quite likely they didn’t think that I had a real shot at the lead. On the other hand, since I’d first met him I’d found out that Henry Dufault was a known troublemaker and wild card, who was talented
but nearly impossible to control. He’d been fired from more jobs than I’d ever had, and yet directors and casting agents kept giving him chance after chance, so he had to be good. I would have thought they’d have put him in the group with the least hopeful candidates. I worried that my outburst that morning had got me marked as a troublemaker too, but that didn’t apply to Kirsty or any of the other kids as far as I could see. In the end I decided not to think about it. I just got on with the tasks we were given.