Where Am I Going To?

October 14, 2010
“Eastman, Lynette.”

Emily looked up from the scene she was practicing in her head as another girl stood up to audition for the casting director and director. She was one of about thirty other women auditioning for a role in her community’s play for the summer. This was her last chance to get any sort of money before her college application was due; this was the only place that was hiring anyone and paying anything.

The entire room seemed to stand still from the time the next girl walked from her chair to the room where auditions were being held. Everybody held their breath, praying to their own God that this girl would not receive a callback for the part that they wanted.

Emily turned her attention back to the script; the production this summer was to be of Evita; the costumes were impressive, the props were coming along wonderfully, and the scenery was beautiful. Every girl in the room wanted to play the role of Eva Peron—social climber and spiritual leader in a hard time for Argentina; the main role of the play; Santa Evita.

“Eccleston, Emily,” the director called. Emily felt her heart pound as she walked slowly toward the audition room; she could feel sixty eyes staring at her, praying she wouldn’t get the part.

As Emily walked to the room, she passed a teary-eyed Lynette, and her heart dropped to her stomach.

“What scene are you going to do for us?” the director asked. The director, Angela Gold, and her sister, Lori, were the ones who had been voted to direct and cast the summer play—again. The plays that they cast and directed were the ones that, according to the community, always turned out to be the best quality.

“I-I’m going to sing,” Emily said. In her mind, it sounded like she had asked, rather than stated. “I’m going to sing Eva’s solo number, ‘Don’t Cry for Me Argentina.’”

“Do you want musical accompaniment?” For the first time, Emily noticed that the pianist was also in the audition room.

Of course he is, Emily told herself. A lot of people only sound good if they’ve got musical backup. “Yes, please,” she said, trying to smile. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest. When she had told her friends about the audition, everyone had said that she should try out, she’d be perfect for the role, and she would, of course, get the part. What they hadn’t realized was that there were so many other people auditioning for the same exact part.

Emily listened to the musical cue, waited anxiously for her part, and started singing. She sang better than she had in any practice she’d done for her friends—the ones who told her that she sounded phenomenal. Emily felt on top of the world; she had an audience that would decide her fate: would she, or would she not, go to college next year? Would she have the recommendation letter needed from a stage director that would allow her to get into the theater program?

Her eyes scrutinized the face of the casting director and the stage director; these women would decide her fate as she uttered the last note of her song. Neither Lori nor Angela showed any sort of joy at finding their star or disappointment at having another awful singer.

“…to know that every word, is true,” Emily concluded. She heard the final bars of the song fade, and waited for Angela or Lori to say something…anything.

“That was very nice, Emily,” Angela said. “Definitely one of the better auditions today.”

“What grade are you in?” Lori asked.

“I’m going to be a high school senior next year,” Emily told her.

“Does your school have a yearly musical?”

“No, the head of school would rather that everyone remains focused on their school work.”

“Have you ever auditioned for a community play before?”

“No; my mother always told me I was ‘too young to be in the spotlight’.”

The sisters shared a look; they seemed to be communicating purely through thoughts.

“Well, we’ll have to think about it; we have thirty more women to audition for the role of Eva. Good luck.” The entire sentence was said without any sort of confirmation; no smile.

“Thank you,” Emily said. She waited one more second before walking out. She didn’t have very high hopes for getting a call back.

~Two weeks later (a.k.a. Call Back Day)~

For what felt like the hundredth time, Emily ran to answer the phone. She still hadn’t heard back from Lori and Angela, despite her mother’s repetitive encouragements.


“Hi, is this Emily? Is your mom there?” Mrs. Norton. Again.

“Yes, hold on a minute.” Emily looked to her mother. “It’s for you.” Her mother sighed and took the phone.

“Hi, Lena; how’s the cooking going?” Mrs. Norton had been trying—in vain—for the past three days to get Emily’s mother to help with a charity bake sale.

Emily walked out to the swing in her back yard; the call back dates were supposed to be that day, and she hadn’t gotten a confirmation call. Tomorrow was the second round of auditions, for people who had been accepted, to see who worked well with whom.

“So what happens now,” Emily sang to herself. In preparation for a role she believed she was guaranteed to get, she had learned all the songs that Eva had any singing part in. “What happens now; where am I going to? Where am I going to…”

Join the Discussion

This article has 1 comment. Post your own now!

Cat friend said...
Oct. 25, 2010 at 1:16 pm
Good job! You had me in suspense and looking forward to seeing how you would resolve the situation. Nice ending, you didn't try to tie things up in a nice ribbon, but let the reader wonder and guess what might happen.
Site Feedback