I hear a small sound behind me, and turn to find her standing there. She’s looking at the floor, hands clasped together, fidgeting. “I haven’t seen it yet,” she says. “I’m too nervous.”
“Why?”
She looks up at me, very intentionally not looking at the list behind me. “Because I love Pride and Prejudice, and I worked really hard for my audition. I mean, just being a part of the production will be great, but this is something I really wanted.”
“I’m really sorry that you had to audition with me, then,” I say.
“Don’t be silly,” she says. “You were great.”
I shake my head. “I’m not so sure, but thank you.” We stand together in silence for a couple of minutes, and I watch as Amber seems to be working up the courage to look at the list. “You should look,” I say.
“I feel sick,” she says.
“Do you want me to tell you? Or give you a hint of some kind?”
“No,” she shakes her head. “No, I can do it.” Taking a deep breath, she steps around me and looks at the list. I watch her go completely still as she sees it. There’s a tiny gasp, and she looks at me suddenly. “Am I hallucinating?”
“If you are hallucinating,” I say, “then I definitely am, because you deserve that part way more than I do.”
Amber ducks her head, but I see the shimmer of tears in her eyes before she does.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she says. “I’m perfect.”
Those butterflies I felt for the first time walking into the auditorium appear again. “I think you’re going to be really great,” I say. “I really do.”
She looks up at me, eyes shining. “I think you’ re going to be really great too.”
I laugh. “I’m not sure what he was thinking. It’s not like my audition was very good, and really not good enough for a part that big.”
“Well, if it helps,” she says, “Mr. Darcy is supposed to be a bit awkward. He’s uncomfortable in almost all the social situations in the story.”
“So you’re calling me awkward?” I say, but I’m smiling.
“Don’t worry,” Amber says, picking up the pen hanging next to the cast list and initialing by her name. “You’re a Drama Club kid now. We’ll train it right out of you.”
She hands the pen to me, and I take it. I spend one last second questioning whether this is a good idea, before initialing the letters PH next to my printed name. “What we do now?”
“Show up to rehearsal,” she says. “Get used to it. Rehearsal is basically going to be your life now.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m going to be one of those people?”
“You’re going to be one of those people,” she confirms.
“Okay. But seriously, let me apologize in advance for how bad I’m going to make you look.”
Amber starts walking down the hallway and she looks over her shoulder at me. “You think I would’ve dragged my ass out into the snow to get you if I thought you’d make me look bad? Not a chance.”
And then she’s gone.
I look at the cast list again, scanning down the list of names. What on earth did I just get myself into?
5
Peter
Present
“Cut!”
I looked up as Amber shouts the word across the set. It’s the very first scene we filmed, and so far, everything is great. Everyone feels comfortable, everybody knows their lines, and Amber has a vision that makes it easy to act. The same way that she helped me in high school, her notes about character and motivation are spot on. It’s only been a couple of hours, but I can already tell that this is going to be awesome.
“Okay everyone, let’s get set for sequence three. Actors, be back in an hour and we’ll rehearse the scene.”
It’s amazing to me how the vibe of this set is so different from my last show. Right from the start, this cast and crew seem to be in synch. I guess that’s what you get with a kick-ass director like Amber. Speaking of Amber, I see her go toward the craft services table, refilling her coffee. I approach her slowly. I don’t want to startle her, but I want to know how she’s actually feeling about us reuniting, especially now that Michael isn’t around to be the third wheel.
“Amber,” I say.
“Peter.”
“So, how are you?”
She finishes pouring her coffee into her cup and turns to me. “I’ve been well, and clearly so have you. Looks like we both managed pretty well over the years.”
There’s still little to no expression on her face, and I study her, trying to figure out what she’s thinking. “I was surprised to see you here, but I can’t say that I’m not glad.”
She smiles, but it’s thin. It doesn’t reach her eyes, and I know that it’s not real. I’ve seen enough real Amber Dwyer smiles to be able to tell the difference. “That’s really nice to hear,” she says. “I think we’ll be able to do some good work together. If you have any other questions about your character, feel free to let me know.”