Stand-in~~Bo Burnham

Chapter 6: "Learn How to Sign Autographs, Girls!"

"I'll see you two lovely ladies on Friday!" Jake said, then he hung up, leaving me to deal with a confused looking Zoey.

*One unnecessarily long explanation later*

"Oh my god! I don't have another song written! We're out of jokes! What are we going to wear!" Zoey panicked, pacing around the apartment.

"Zo."

"How many people are going to be there? What if no one likes us? Why are we the opening act? How does Jake have your phone number? Will Stephen Lynch be there? Because I'd REALLY like to kick his ass."

"Zo."

"And what if we don't fill the slot? How much time is fifteen minutes? Why did Jake's boss want to book US?"

"Zoey Rose Mace!" I shouted, using her full name to get her attention. Zoey's head snapped towards me. "We're going to be fine. It's Monday now, that means we have four days to prepare. We've done this once already without any preparation. Four days is going to seem like four years. And since when do you get nervous?"

"I don't know! Since when do you have Jake's phone number?" I froze for a moment. "See? Since when do YOU get nervous?"

"Alright, enough of this. We have work to do." I said bitterly, picking up my ukelele (I'm saving up for a real guitar, but at the moment I'm too poor to afford one) and strumming some chords.

And that's basically how it went for the next few days. Whenever we got home from work, Zoey and I would sit down and write. She wrote the songs (we had two, one about taco trucks and one about deodorant) and I wrote the stand-up part of it. Man, we were clever.

While Zoey had the magical singing voice and knack for rhyming dirty jokes, I discovered my own talent. Impressions! Oh, I had many a silly voice to use. My personal favorites were the angry old Irishwoman and the sexual grocery clerk. We even ended up with more material than we needed, and surprisingly we had to cut some things out.

By the time Thursday came around, Zoey and I were more than prepared. Everything was memorized, my ukelele was in-tune, our delivery was perfect and we were ready to get this show on the road. I was too distracted with that and the upcoming tourney my pick-up soccer team was in to think about Jake much. Oddly, though, I found myself wondering what Bo would be doing. It surprised me how much I wanted to talk to him. I didn't miss him, I've never missed anyone in my life, but I did think about him.

"Yo Harper. Get your head out of your ass and get your ass out of the cab." Zoey said, snapping in my face when I was in one of my little Bo-daydreams. I know I mentioned we lived only two blocks from the theater, but Zoey and I were feeling exceptionally lazy.

"Ass, got it." I answered absently, gathering my things and stepping out. Thursday. Rehearsal. Light and sound checks. Attendance not required.

The theater was now familiar to me. I enjoyed the slightly musty smell that backstage had. I liked the old oak floor of the stage. I liked the mysterious stain on the back of a curtain.

Okay, maybe I didn't really like that one.

I was surprised to find Zoey and I had our own dressing room. It was a small one, yes, but one nonetheless. It had a vanity and a beanbag chair, as well as a clothing rack that we wouldn't need. Since we were the first act, we put our stuff inside and took what we needed up to the stage.

All in all, everything went smoothly. Cayden basically knew exactly how the lights should be, and Jake assured that the sound was good. Very little technical work on our part. The boys were very good at their jobs.