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Post by audrey juniper carver on Mar 22, 2019 17:12:05 GMT -5
  Audrey knew leading roles weren’t just handed out at random. It took a lot of hard work, dedication and sweat to get your name at the top of the bill. Before she had roles that helped pay her way, she was waitressing and working retail jobs between auditions and show runs. She hated every single one of them, knowing she wasn’t cut out for the false customer service every business wanted to push. Slogans were rarely cute, and everyone who spoke them sounded robotic and like they had been brainwashed in some dark basement room somewhere. Audrey wasn’t afraid to admit that there were times when she would have sold her soul to get onto a cast and get out of there. She hoped now that her days of jobs like that were over. She had high amounts of respect for those who could do it day in and out without hating themselves and every other human being, but she could never be one of their numbers. She preferred making people happier from a stage, playing a different role when one got boring or finished up.
She could be friendly and bubbly, but oftentimes it was only when she was around her own people. The rest of the time she could feel those little pet peeves nipping at her, pushing her further away from her comfortable centre. Audrey was surprised at how bothered she could be by the little things when she was far away from the theatre. It was rarely ever things she could change either; doctor’s appointments, certain foods (pears should be abolished in her eyes), and getting a pimple here and there. They were mostly out of her control, and yet they had the habit of getting under her skin and washing away her sunshine personality for a little while. That probably bothered her more than the particulars did. Audrey didn’t enjoy being less than her happy self. Thankfully, everything in her life currently was keeping her on the merry side. In fact, there were probably people – like her sister – who found the perpetual cheeriness annoying at times.
She let out a laugh, raising her eyebrows in amused thought. “Bad boys might be right, but you’re the first in tights.” Actors she had dated her fair share of, but Greyson was the first dancer she had actually had a relationship with. She rapped her knuckles on a closed door, already knowing that inside would be empty. Most of the dancers and chorus members weren’t here yet, and those who had been called in were at the stage with the director. “This’ll be you. I’m right down the hall, door on the right. It’s got some silly notes all over it from the other cast members.” She had made an offhand comment about a previous show putting post-it notes on doors, suggesting dinner or tweaks to improve the performance. Ever since then everyone had made a game of covering her door in silly comments and notes, mostly full of jokes and cheesy lines. “Please, I have not stolen half of them. I have three. One of which may now have a small paint stain on after I dropped a paint lid.” She bit her lip and flashed him her big innocent eyes. “I was changing the colour of an old photo frame.” A simple, quick job that should have gone by without any incident. Alas, her butter fingers were forgotten about until the awkward fumble with the lid before it landed – thankfully – right side up on her kitchen tiles.
• • •
TAGGED! Greyson Wesley Drozdov
WORDS! 599!
OUTFIT! Broadway Beauty!
LYRICS! Safe And Sound - - - Tonight Alive
NOTES!
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