Waiting in the Wings (2 page)

“Come with a song, a monologue, and wear comfortable clothes for the dance audition. I have your e-mail address, and my assistant Debbie is going to send you the details of the call on Wednesday.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep my eyes open for it, Mr. Latham,” I said numbly, my mind racing. Surely, there were questions I should be asking, but I was still all kinds of flustered.

“Great, we’ll talk soon,” he said. And then he was gone. Just like that.

I stared at the receiver in my hand. Had that really just happened? It had. An opportunity had fallen into my lap and it was time to jump. I promptly threw away everything in the pile I was sorting through and opened my laptop to see about that plane ticket.

❖

New York City in June was crowded and hot and wonderful. I couldn’t get over the bustling streets and the feeling there was so much going on in such a small radius. I’d managed to book a hotel room on Priceline located only five blocks from the rehearsal studio where the auditions were taking place.

I got up early that morning, wanting to take my time and hit Starbucks before my ten a.m. audition slot. As I sipped my vanilla latte, I talked myself through the beats I needed to hit in my monologue from
Hatful of Rain
and the breathing techniques that would carry my voice to the high note in “Life of the Party,” the song I’d chosen to sing.

By the time I arrived at the rehearsal studio, I’d talked myself into a serene state of mind. This was my zone. This was the place I’d gotten myself to mentally when I’d snagged role after role at CCM. It was all a matter of showing these people what I was capable of. After that, it was out of my hands. That was my mantra and that’s what I would repeat over and over until it was my turn.

The casting notice Andrew Latham had sent my way was fairly vague. They were looking for a twenty-something actress to replace a girl from a touring production of a Broadway show. It was an equity show, so the fact I already had my union card from my regional work helped.

I entered the small waiting area and saw three rows of girls who all looked, well, a lot like me. I felt immediately inconsequential, but reminded myself that was not the mentality that was going to get me anywhere near Broadway. I was going to have to prove myself every step of the way. That shouldn’t be a surprise and it was time

to suck it up. I reported to the clearly irritated young guy collecting the headshots. “All right…Jenna.” He scratched his chin and made notes on his all-powerful clipboard. “Have a seat and look over this scene.” He handed me the sides to study without ever looking back up. “If they like you, they may have you read.”

As I sat, the title of the show caught my eye and I felt my breath catch in my throat. The show I was reading for was
Clean Slate
, winner of last year’s Tony Award and the hardest ticket to come by in town. The tour had kicked off a few months ago and starred Adrienne Kenyon in the lead role of Evan. She’d already gotten a slew of amazing reviews and the tour was still in its early stages. I felt my “zone” start to crumble away. This was monumental. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. This was so out of my league.

Before I had a chance to reflect on this new development any further, Irritated Guy called my name and sent me into the audition room. A long table was set up across the room, comprised of five people. I introduced myself to the panel and handed my music to the accompanist when I saw Dermot Levonshire sitting among those at the table. I was about to audition for not just casting agents, but for the director of
Clean Slate
and about six other successful Broadway shows. I swallowed hard.

As the music began to play, I felt everything slow down. My voice felt strong, which gave me courage. I did my best to let each note resonate, staying light and delicate on the fun parts of the song, and then moving into the power notes, holding eye contact with each member of that table in rotation. Fearless, I had to show them I was fearless. As the song began to crescendo, I made sure to control my belt and let the emotion of the lyrics come through. I added a little bit of movement and ended the song with the playful grin that would hopefully show my carefree side as well.

When I finished, the table applauded and consulted with one another quietly. Finally, the middle-aged woman sitting in the center of the group introduced herself. “Jenna, I’m Brenda Herring, one of the casting directors on the show. I think we collectively enjoy your voice but would like to see more from you. Would you mind reading the scene with Brent?”

Would I mind? No, I didn’t mind. Wouldn’t be a problem. Brent, the actor onsite for the reading, strolled over and took a seat on the stool next to me. I took a final glance at the sides and tossed the paper to the floor. The premise was for me to seduce Brent and end the scene by taking his face in my hands and kissing him. The guy-thing was not my forte, but I was an actress and a damn good one. I went for it, and even took it one step further and ended our exchange in his lap. I realize it was a bold move, but I felt it in the moment and I’ve always been one to let my instinct carry me.

The panel across the room once again conferred quietly while I waited in silence. “Jenna, can you come back at four for a dance audition?” I stared at them. Yep, I could do that.

“Sure. Should I prepare something?” I was trying my best to

appear confident.

“No, Todd, our assistant choreographer, will teach you a few combinations from the show and we’ll see how it goes. Thanks, Jenna, see you at four.”

I was dismissed. I picked up my dance bag and started the walk back to my hotel. On the way there, I took out Andrew Latham’s card and dialed his number.

“Jenna, Jenna, Jenna, my favorite new client, how’d it go?” The background noise he was talking over made it sound like he was in a car somewhere…and possibly eating something.

“I think it went well. I mean, I got a callback at four to dance.

Listen, Mr. Latham, did you—” “Latham.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Call me Latham, no more mister. It kills me. If I’m going to represent you, let’s try to lose that formality.” Another bite. What, was that an apple?

“Okay…Latham,” I said carefully, “Did you know this was an audition for the tour of
Clean Slate
?”

“I did and I think you’d be great for it. Listen, don’t let the credibility of the show fuck with your head. Go back there later today, dance like you did when I first saw you at your college showcase, and that’s all we can ask for. Right?”

“Right, right. Okay. I’ll go back and dance.” Simple as that. I put my phone back in my bag and finished the walk to my hotel. Once there, I lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Antsy, I grabbed the orange I’d left on my nightstand, threw it into the air, and caught it with my right hand. This was somewhat of a ritual for me. A way to sort things out when I had a lot on my mind. As I watched the orange rise and fall back into my hand over and over again, I admitted to myself there was no way this was going to happen. No way.
Do not get your hopes up. Don’t go there.

And I didn’t. When I returned to the studio at four, I had convinced myself this was an audition for fun and to gain a little experience. I wasn’t going to involve myself emotionally because that would only lead to disappointment. But when five o’clock rolled around and the twelve girls I’d learned the dance combination with became five, it was hard to stop the wheels in my head from turning.

During one of the five-minute breaks, I shuffled through my bag for a bottle of water as one of the other girls casually sat next to me on the floor. “Is it just me or are those last five eight counts ridiculously hard to hit after only ten minutes of instruction?” She shook her head and retied her shoe.

The truth was they weren’t that difficult for me, but I didn’t want to come off too self-assured. “No, they’re definitely making us work for it with that finish.” Despite her complaint, however, I’d noticed this girl earlier and she was good. She was smaller than me, with short dark hair that bounced when she danced. True, she was behind a half step on the first few run-throughs, but her movements were crisp and clean. She was my toughest competition.

“I’m Elaine Rowe by the way. Lanie.” Her eyes narrowed. “I think you can pack it in though, the job is mine.” As I began to raise my eyebrows in surprise, a huge grin erupted on her face and she nudged my shoulder with hers. “Ah, I’m just screwin’ with you. You’re good. What’s your name?”

“Jenna,” I replied. “And I don’t think you have much to worry about. You’re pretty good yourself.”

“Oh, well, thanks. I haven’t seen you at one of these before. Are you new? After a while you get used to the same old faces at audition after audition.”

“Just finished school, actually. I guess you could say I’m getting

my feet wet with this one.”

“Aha. Fresh off the boat, huh?” Lanie studied me carefully and nodded before glancing over her shoulder at the meeting across the room breaking up. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, kiddo, but I think Todd and company are ready to get on with things. I guess we should head back over. Break a leg. You’ll need it,” she said playfully, “cause I’m clearly their favorite.” Just for good measure, she glanced back and shook her head at me, pointing out that she knew she wasn’t. I laughed.

“You too, Lanie, thanks.” We headed back to our spots in the dance formation. It was nice to have a friendly face in the midst of this process. Lanie looked to be maybe four or five years older than me and therefore probably came with more experience. It would be cool to talk to her more and bend her ear about the business, if she was willing, of course. But that would have to wait until later.

The audition continued and continued and continued. God, did it continue. Even though I’d never been to an audition of this caliber, I knew this was going on for quite a bit longer than normal. Once the dance audition concluded, they still had each one of us read one final scene before thanking us for our time.

“We’ll be in touch,” was all they said, which sucked because I was dying to know how I’d done and what they were thinking. Instead, I started on my way home for the night. I’d done my best and I’d made it past a lot of other folks. That’s something to hold on to. I’d gotten about two blocks from the studio when my phone rang. I glanced at the screen and saw it was coming from Latham’s cell phone.

“I don’t know where you are,” he said upon my answering, “but turn yourself around and go back. They want to see you again.” “Now?” I stopped in my tracks on the street, causing the guy behind me to slam into my dance bag. “Sorry,” I called to him as he

passed, muttering curse words at me.

“Yes, now. They’re waiting for you. You must be doing something right.”

I sighed, though it was laced with hope. “On my way.”

I opened the door to the studio and found the room empty. I dropped my bag and began to quickly change back into my dance shoes, just in case. Before I could get the left one on, Lanie walked in the room and glanced around expectantly. “Hey. Any idea what’s up?”

“I guess they’re not finished with us. I’m exhausted, but I’ll go all night if they need me to.” And I meant it. I was pretty much on adrenaline at this point because my body was mostly gone from the paces we’d gone through that day.

She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head. “All I can say is bring it, bitch.” I laughed at her feisty declaration. This girl was fun, if not a little crazy. I decided to get her number before she left. There was a definite friend potential there.

Before I could get that number, however, Brenda Herring followed by Irritated Guy from the check-in process breezed into the studio. “Hello, ladies. Thank you so much for returning this evening. We have our decision and because we’re on a time crunch, I wanted to speak with you both personally. No reason to wait.”

I stared at Brenda Herring wishing against all hope that she would talk faster.
Talk faster, Brenda Herring.
Apparently, it had come down to Lanie and me. I glanced at her and she sent a small smile back my way, along with a nod of her head. A silent “good luck.”

Brenda continued. “Elaine, we were very impressed with you all around. We’d like to offer you an ensemble position on tour with
Clean Slate
.” I felt my breath leave me as Lanie’s eyes lit up. “The show has already played its first few days in Detroit. We’d like to get you out there as soon as possible and into rehearsals. The goal is for you to start in the show two weeks from now when it hits Chicago.”

Lanie closed her eyes and brought her hands to her face. I put my arms around her and gave her a squeeze. “Congratulations, Lanie. You deserve it.” I was genuinely happy for her. It might not

have gone my way, but there would be other shots and other shows down the road. Plus, I now had credible audition experience.

As we turned back to Brenda Herring, my arm still draped over Lanie’s shoulder, she held up her hand to signal she had more to say. “And, Jenna, we’d like to invite you to join the
Clean Slate
tour as well, in the role of Alexis. Provided you accept, we would need you—”

Wait, what? I shook my head to be sure I heard her correctly. I allowed the whole sentence to hit home. “But Alexis is a supporting role. I thought this audition was for strictly ensemble.”

“Today
was
strictly an ensemble call. Auditions for an Alexis replacement were held last week. Dermot saw the show recently on the road and was unhappy with the actress playing Alexis and she was let go. We had a few understudies in contention for the role, but no one we were excited about. You nailed a certain likability the character needs in the first half of the show and the strength she needs in the second. It’s a tall order. Plus, Dermot liked you a lot. We all did.” She put her hand on my forearm. “You’re new. You’re fresh-faced. I guess you could say you’re a risk we’d like to take.” At that point Brenda Herring snapped out of her sincere woman mode and abruptly handed a stack of folders to her assistant. “Dennis can fill you in on the details of travel and rehearsal. My office will fax over the paperwork to your representation. Congratulations, ladies. Welcome aboard.” And with that, she was gone.