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The Night Before

The Night Before

A Chapter by Pepper

The night before an audition, a girl worries about the next day, and the mysterious man next door.

I should probably start this off by saying I have a college audition the next day, and that I'm really nervous, like REALLY nervous. I've tried watching TV, listening to every show tune I have and just laying down on the bed. Thinking about the next day does not help, and I can't get it out of my head.... Thanks Dad. 
Ok, so I completely understand that this is one of the best schools in the state for theatre and other things along the lines of it. I've already gotten accepted in to the school itself, so if I don't get in its not the worst thing in the world. I only know one person that ever got in, and he was really good. Like heavenly angel status, and I'm a belter, so this could be a strange combination. My parents are asleep, which is amazing because they usually never are, and they always complain about "how kids are lucky they could sleep in" and all that crap. It's not my fault I'm a teenager. 
The past couple of hours have basically gone like this.
1. Lay in bed, try and think of something to keep my mind off things.
2. Resist the urge to check Facebook. 
3. Resist urge to take something from the mini bar. Dad would kill me.
4. Hear a couple of chords from the room next door. 

I'm really trying not to blame the person next door. I'm guessing he's probably nervous just like myself, trying to calm himself down with a few simple chords while I lay in my bed trying to think of past shows I've done. Usually when I'm nervous it works. Like the time I was waiting for a cast list to come up, and there was an hour left until the damn thing was posted. So instead of sitting at the computer and refreshing the page every five minutes or so, I laid down on my bed and began to think of that one show we did a year or so ago. I usually don't remember things as well as I once did, so this was kind of a stretch mentally. It was on a boat, a period piece on a boat. There were some religious themes, but that was about it.  Damn, there were some good times in that show, but why the hell can't I remember the name? And wait..... I get my dream taken from me and the chords pass through the thin walls and into my ears. Damnit, that kid is still playing. I know he has the right to, but I have an audition too. I'm also assuming that he's a boy, which could make things better. I'm ALWAYS on the lookout for that kind of stuff.
That's when I decided to pull on a pair of jeans and a shirt and try to convince the person to play lower or stop all together. They really need to let me sleep. I tip toed out of the room and triple checked that I had the key card to get back in. I strode down the hall and found the door where the music was coming from. I put my ear up against the door and listen for a few seconds, just making sure that this is the right room. Sure enough I hear the chords come floating out the door in a fashion. As soon as I knocked on the door, the chords fell to the ground and crashed. The door opened and there was a tall boy standing there, bags under his eyes and a guitar in hand. 
"Was I keeping you up? I got a complaint around eleven but I thought I tuned it down a bit."
I was shocked about how nice this person was. The people that owned guitars back home usually were pissed when someone interrupted their music. They would give you the evil eye and basically ignore you for the rest of the day. But this boy seemed gentle, like someone who would put down his guitar for someone or the game controller for a girl. I was getting a little ahead of myself there, but thats just the way I think. 
"Uh, I was just having a bit of-" I forced out.
"I'm so sorry," he said. "Do you wanna come in? You can tell me what you want to without standing up in the hall. It seems a little awkward."
I walked in and plopped myself down on a bed, while he took a chair closer to the window. There was a notepad and a pencil on the heater by the window, and at that moment I realized that I interrupted his song writing session. 
"You know," I stammered. "I could just leave."
The boy looked up and into my eyes. "Why?" 
I pointed towards the notepad. "You were writing a song and I-"
"You didn't know," said the boy calmly. "You didn't know and it doesn't matter. It's my fault, I should be writing at three in the morning."
"Do you have an audition tomorrow?" I asked?
"Yeah, musical theatre. People always said I would make a good waiter."
He chuckled a little and flipped a page in the notepad. "What about you?"
"Same." I said.
"You know, the Applebees down the street is probably still open. We could get applications and fill them out together."
That made me laugh, and it took some stress off my back. It was nice to finally meet someone with a sense of good humor, not the idiots back home that watch CNN and make jokes about every revolt in the Middle East. He also seemed nice, just a different change of pace instead of the jerks that are all about "hump and dump" backstage. 
"Well, it is three in the morning, and I think I should get ready for my audition by at least catching some sleep."
The boy nodded. "That's actually a good idea. I think I'm going to play for just ten more minutes and then sleep. You don't mind right?"
"You could play all night," I said, smiling at him.
He smiled a cooked smile back at me, a little cute I thought.
I waived goodbye and left the room, then sneaking back into my room and climbing into bed. Not three seconds after covering up with the sheets, the sound of a guitar floated into the room again. This time, it didn't bother me as much, and it sounded more heavenly this time and more like a lullaby than anything else.
Even if I completely bomb my audition, even if I lose my voice, I won't be upset. That small human connection that I made today was the best thing that has happened in months, and maybe I'll find him again. I'll find him on a bench, playing his guitar, and I'll sit down next to him and try to talk again, but hopefully not at three in the morning.

© 2011 Pepper

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Added on March 26, 2011
Last Updated on March 26, 2011




I am an avid reader of Harry Turtledove, and other famous writers from Hemingway to Fitzgerald. I am in my senior year of high school, and the ideas that I once had is now driving me to insanity. I ha.. more..

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