Read Stagefright Online

Authors: Carole Wilkinson

Stagefright (6 page)

She swallowed her pride. “That was good, what you did.”

Taleb looked up at her, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

“What do you mean?”

“You broke the ice. You were the first one to perform. The others didn’t say anything, but they were all terrified of acting or singing in front of everyone. Now you’ve done it and they won’t feel so uncomfortable when their turn comes.”

Taleb did up the clasp on his guitar case. “I’m used to performing.”

“You don’t get nervous?”

“Yeah, I get nervous. I’m used to that too.”

They walked towards the gate together. Taleb stopped at the bike rack, unlocked his bike and slung his guitar on his back. He turned to Velvet. She noticed that he’d replaced the little rubber band on his braces.

“Sorry I yelled at you,” he said and rode off.

C
H
A
P
TE
R
9

Mr MacDonald, who was looking in the employment columns less and talking about the play more, had asked the cultural studies class to work out what scenes they wanted to use from the play’s first act. He wasn’t getting much response.

“When do we get to the battle scene?”

“Shut up, Jesus. The battle scene’s last.”

Mr MacDonald continued, “Richard has to get everybody who’s in line to be king out of the way. So he’s got to kill his two brothers and King Edward’s sons, the little princes.”

Mr MacDonald continued to go through the play line by line, but after twenty minutes the others had lost interest.

“Okay. It’s time we started casting,” he said. “I think everyone will get into this a lot more if they know who they’re going to play.”

There was a murmur of approval.

“So who wants to take the part of Richard?”

“Richard is such a horrible person,” Velvet said, not really helping the casting process. “He’s mean to everybody. He tricks Lady Anne into liking him even though he killed her husband. And he looks creepy.”

Mr MacDonald agreed. “He’s probably the most hated king in British history.”

“No wonder,” Peter said.

“It’s a great part.”

A rare silence settled over the cultural studies class.

Velvet broke the silence. “I think Drago should play Richard.”

“Thanks.”

“I just think the role would suit you.”

“Because I’m the most hated kid at Yarrabank?”

“That’s not what I meant. But you do have a chip on your shoulder.”

“Me? You’re the one who’s always moaning about how it was better at your old school, wishing things were how they used to be. You play Richard!”

Velvet was about to argue the point, but Mr MacDonald cut in.

“We’ll audition,” he said. “Peter, you go first. Read some of the soliloquy – the opening bit.”

Peter read quite well. Taleb read in a boring monotone. When it came to Drago’s turn, he struggled and stumbled over the unfamiliar words.

“I don’t want to read this crap,” he said and stormed out of the room. This time he slammed the door so hard that pots of paint teetered and basketballs were dislodged from their pile and bounced all over the room.

“You’re right, Velvet,” Mr MacDonald said. “He’s perfect.”

“He’ll never agree.” Peter said. “You could have been a bit more subtle, Velvet.”

“What do you mean?”

“You practically said, ‘You’re ugly, you’re mean, the part’s yours’.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Drago can’t have the main part,” Roula said. “Seriously. He can’t read normal books.”

“He doesn’t have to read. He just has to remember.”

“Peter was better,” Hailie said.

“How can you have a Vietnamese king of England?”

“It’s the performance that’s important, Jesus,” Mr MacDonald said. “What do the rest of you think?”

“Peter’s not right for the part.” Hailie looked at Peter with what she probably thought was a seductive smile. “He’s too good-looking.”

“Drago’s angry with the world just like Richard,” Velvet said. “It has to be him.”

Everyone agreed.

“Someone better find Drago,” Peter said, “and break the news to him.”

“I’ll go,” Velvet volunteered.

She found Drago smoking under a tree and sat down next to him.

“We all want you to have the lead role.”

“You mean no one else wants to play Richard because he’s such a creep.”

“You’ve got the right edge to play him, Drago. You can be mean and angry and you’ve got … an attitude.”

“Thanks.”

“Peter hasn’t got a mean bone in his body, Taleb can’t act and Jesus is a total jock. It has to be you, doesn’t it?”

“Like I said, no one else want’s to do it.”

“It’s not like you’ve got anything more important to do on Thursday afternoons. You said you thought you could act. You’ll be the star of the show.”

“I can’t say all that dumb Shakespeare stuff.”

“We’ll rewrite it. You can play it any way you like as long as it gets across the same message.”

“Any way?” Drago smiled maliciously.

Velvet gave him a suspicious look. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Drago’s warped mind could do to Shakespeare.

“Almost any way. I think you’ll be good. Will you do it?”

Drago shrugged. “I suppose so.”

They went back inside.

“Drago’s agreed to be Richard.”

Everyone clapped. Drago tried to look like he didn’t care.

“But we’re going to rewrite it a bit, if that’s okay, Mr Mac. So it’s more like modern speech.”

“Fine with me.”

“We’ll start with the scene where Richard woos Lady Anne,” Velvet said.

“Okay, now we’re making progress,” Mr MacDonald said. “Look, it’s too dismal in here. I think we should continue this casting meeting in Hades.”

“Great idea.” Jesus was already on his way to the door.

“Who’s going to pay?” Drago asked.

Taleb was searching his pockets. “I haven’t got a cent.”

“I’ll shout,” said Mr MacDonald. “But don’t think I’m going to make a habit of it.”

They strolled nonchalantly past all the straining and sweating athletes. They were all trying to make out like it wasn’t a big deal, but there was no doubt about it, walking out of the school gates and over to the coffee shop across the road in school time was a buzz. Even Drago was smiling. Velvet felt a bit guilty. She didn’t want to actually start enjoying being at Yarrabank.

True to its name, Hades was warm. They pushed two tables together next to the open fire and peeled off their hoodies. The walls were painted black with orange flames. Red devil toys hung from the ceiling. The decor in Hades was really tacky, but it was a big improvement on T6. The owner had banned Drago from setting foot on the premises for putting sugar in the salt shakers, and Mr MacDonald had to plead for a good behaviour bond.

Their orders arrived and they all sipped frothy coffees and hot chocolates and started thinking about the play again.

“There aren’t any good parts for girls,” Hailie grumbled as she wiped some foam from Peter’s top lip and licked it off her finger.

Roula and Velvet exchanged a glance.

“There’s Lady Anne. That’s a good part.” Mr MacDonald leafed through his photocopy. “Turn to page three. She comes in mourning the death of her husband, who Richard killed in battle. What happens next?”

They all studied their photocopies.

“She slags off at him,” Peter said. “She calls him names. A toad and a hedgehog.”

“Oooooh, serious stuff.” Drago was following the words with his finger.

“And she spits at him.”

“Nice.” Even Jesus was interested.

“Yes, but underneath the nasty exterior, Richard is a real charmer,” Mr MacDonald continued. “Even though he’s just killed her husband, he manages to win her over. He offers her his sword to kill him, but she can’t do it. He gives her his ring.”

“And she’s sucked in badly.”

“We’ll need a song for Lady Anne there I think, Taleb.”

Taleb shrugged.

Velvet was impressed. Mr MacDonald was managing to get the cultural studies class interested in Shakespeare.

“How come you know so much about this play, sir?” Peter asked.

“I studied it at uni.”

“Which part did you play?” Velvet couldn’t picture Mr Mac as a young man.

“I didn’t act in it. I wrote an essay.”

“Did you get a good grade?” Roula asked.

Velvet could see that they were getting off track again. “That’s one girl’s part. But there are three of us.”

“What about Margaret, the old queen? There’s a terrific scene where she curses everybody. And there’s Edward’s wife, Queen Elizabeth, and Richard’s mother, the Duchess of York. Plenty of female roles.”

“Great. So someone gets to play Drago’s mum,” Hailie said. “Very romantic.”

“It’s a boys’ play,” Velvet said. “We should have done
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
or
Much Ado about Nothing
.”

“Quit whinging,” Drago said. “We’re not changing now.”

“It’s all right for you,” Roula continued to whinge. “You’ve got the main part, you’ll be in practically every scene.”

Mr MacDonald waved his spoon. “Perhaps we can add another scene for Lady Anne. Velvet, I want you to do some research. Find out something about Anne that we can work in.”

“Okay. Does that mean I can play Lady Anne?”

“Acting is only part of a production, Velvet. We’ve also got to adapt the play for our purposes. There’s no point in having good actors if the script isn’t good first. The scriptwriter is very important.”

Velvet liked the idea of being a scriptwriter.

“We’ll do the female roles next week,” Mr Mac said. “Let’s finish casting the boys.”

He turned to the next page of his script.

“This scene is where Richard has his brother Clarence murdered.”

“Great,” said Jesus, cheering up. “How does he get it? A bullet in the head? A sword in the guts?”

“He hires two guys to do it for him. It’s actually a comic scene. They can’t decide how to do the deed. In fact they get cold feet and don’t want to do it at all. In the end they stab him and then drown him in a barrel of wine.”

“Sounds like a stupid way to kill somebody.”

“There’s heaps of male characters,” Hailie complained. “We haven’t got enough guys to play them all.”

“We needn’t have all of them.” Mr MacDonald started writing a list on the back of his script. “King Edward can die offstage, so we don’t need him. We can forget about most of the minor characters. Buckingham is important though. He’s a loyal friend and ally to Richard, but Richard has him killed in the end. Peter how do you feel about playing the Duke of Buckingham?”

Peter shrugged. A shrug was what passed for, “Yeah I’d love to” with Yarrabank boys.

“Taleb, you can be Clarence.”

“The one who gets drowned in the wine?”

“Yep.”

“What about me?” Jesus asked.

“I’ve got the very part for you – the Earl of Richmond. He’s the guy who kills Richard in the battle at the end. He becomes the next king of England.”

“Sounds great.”

Velvet was worried about Jesus’s acting ability. “Does he have to say much?”

“Hardly anything.”

“The part’s yours, Jesus,” Velvet said.

Everyone laughed – even Jesus.

They went home fifteen minutes early and Velvet walked to the train station with the other girls.

“Isn’t Peter nice?” Hailie said. “He’s so thoughtful.”

“Looks like you’ve got your sights set on him,” Roula said.

“I’m going to be his first girlfriend.”

“I wonder how come he’s never had one before?” Velvet said.

“He’s just shy. He needs an experienced woman to show him the way.”

“And that’s you is it, Hailie?” Velvet said. “You haven’t even reached puberty yet.”

“Cow,” Hailie snapped.

“Anyway, I thought you were going out with Nestor Szkaley?”

Hailie looked at Velvet in disbelief. “That was in first term! I’ve had at least four boyfriends since then.”

“Did you hook up with Dylan Harrison yet?” Roula asked.

“Yeah.”

Velvet was horrified.

“You don’t mean you … you didn’t …?”

“You’re so dumb, Velvet. Seriously.”

“I tongue kissed him and he …”

“Yuk, I don’t want to hear about it!”

“I s’pose you’ll pash Drago soon. Since you and him are gonna write stuff together.”

“No way!” The thought of kissing Drago made Velvet want to retch. “I just want the play to happen. It could be good.”

“Could be a total disaster.”

Roula was bored with this artistic talk. “Tell us about Dylan. What happened when you went bowling on the weekend?”

“Well he … ”

Velvet rammed in her earbuds and turned up “The Music of the Night” full blast so that she didn’t have to listen to the gory details.

“Settling in at school are you, darling?” Velvet’s mother said when she got home.

“No.”

“You seem a bit happier.”

“I’m in a drama group. We’re going to put on a play.”

“Lovely. Are there some nice young people in the drama group?” Velvet’s mother didn’t like saying “kids”.

“Nice? Not exactly.”

“Why don’t you bring them home for afternoon tea one day?”

“Afternoon tea! Mother, they aren’t that civilised. Drago would probably break the china.”

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