Applehead Fever

4 - forbidden conversations

The same man who chauffeured me to the dressing room and audition room led me back to the waiting room. He called out another name before we'd even reached the doorway and the person it belonged to rushed up, almost bowling me over in her frisson.

The electrifying buzz had grown in the room; hardly a second after I seated myself, the group I was eavesdropping on earlier hustled over and began launching questions at me.

"Did you see Michael?"

"What was he wearing?"

"Did he say anything?"

"Was the routine harder?"

I took a dazed breath in preparation to answer all their questions. They didn't quiet down until I put my hands out, signaling that I needed them to regain their composure before I spoke.

"I did see Michael, and he was wearing a red shirt with black pants. He didn't say anything because the director and choreographer were telling me what to do. The routine wasn't harder either, it was the same as auditions, but they did bring in some actors. Probably to see how we blended and how natural it looks." I said, exhaling when I'd gotten my words out. Only hoping that it would satisfy their hungry for information.

One of the girls in the group, a slightly shorter Mexican with short black hair styled in a bob cut, sighed blissfully and blinked wide brown eyes at me. "I can't wait to go in and see him. Gosh, I don't even think I'll be able to do the routine. I'm so nervous."

My lips pressed into a small smile. I think just about everyone was in a state of agitation, but I could understand the girls' nervousness over the other male actors in the room. They thought of Michael as an idol, a near god with his fame and possibly even his looks. I heard multiple girls commenting on how cute they thought he was when I first walked into the room. Of course I agreed, but I hadn't focused that much on it when I went through the routine. I was much more worried about my performance and making a lasting impression on the whole group, not just the famous pop singer.

"Just try to ignore him," I advised. "Focus on the routine instead of him and it might help you."

The girl gave me a skeptical look mixed with a sudden bout of misery. "As if I'd be able to do that."

One of the other girls beside her patted her on the back, a sympathetic look in her small blue eyes.

Our conversation continued, progressing so far they introduced themselves to me and I did the same. Unfortunately, not even ten minutes later I forgot their names. I guess the thrill of auditioning got into my head. I barely paid any attention to what they were talking animatedly about; it was just background noise I'd sometimes participate in when a topic interested me. The group did help keep me busy and occupied as nearly five hours passed and everyone got called out of the room one by one.

The Mexican girl in our group was the final call, and once she returned the flood gates were opened. People spilled out of the packed room and entered the first waiting room to leave. I didn't get the chance to ask how she did; she was one of the first people leaving the room.

When it was my turn to squeeze out the door and enter the waiting room again, I found Julie standing off to the side, looking for me. The receptionist must have called ahead to let her know there was only a few people left. Otherwise she stayed close to the plot and sped over as soon as everyone was dismissed.

As soon as she spotted me wading through the crowd of people, she rushed over, a goofy grin plastered all over her face. She hugged my arm and dragged me out of the building, causing me to struggle to keep up. Her haste and overflowing impatience was rare to experience. I guess the thought of Michael existing with a 100 foot radius was getting to her too.