I looked down at the Facebook page for the competition.
It was time to make a plan.
First step, pick a new monologue…or not. There were no rules saying we couldn’t use the same ones. And if I hadn’t read Monica’s comment, I would never have known. So, there was that.
I tapped my foot against my knee as I sat cross-legged, staring blankly at the screen, scrolling down as my mind churned over the pros and cons.
I’d take the rest of this week to sort through monologues and try to find something new and better, but if I didn’t, I’d just use my old one.
Decision made.
My gaze snagged on a separate thread I hadn’t noticed before because no one was commenting on it. One of the organizers had posted more information about the new scholarship for community outreach.
Seemed simple enough. All you had to do was prove that you’d contributed to your school’s art department or your town’s local dramatic arts scene. No big stipulations on how or the details.
And no one had commented.
No one had taken any interest.
A buzz of excitement had me breaking out of my cross-legged seat and pacing around the room. Maybe this was my way of getting the scholarship money to get out of town.
Maybe I didn’t have to be the best actress in the world, or stand out from all the rest.
I mean, I’d try, but if I failed…
I’d have a backup plan.
For the first time all day I felt a little hope and I sprang back onto the bed so quickly, the laptop bounced. First I had to be sure I was right. I couldn’t waste valuable rehearsal time and energy if everyone else had the same idea.
I scrolled through the list of participants until I found who I was looking for.
Lola would know. She knew everyone. I started a private message with her and her friend Layne.
Me: Hey, ladies! Question for you. Do you know if anyone is going for that community outreach scholarship?
It took a few minutes but then those little dots started to blink like someone was typing.
Lola: Not that I know of.
I grinned. I knew it!
Layne: No one from the vocals or instruments that we’ve heard of.
Layne’s clarification gave me pause. I hadn’t heard of anyone from the acting world going for it either. But none of us were super tuned into the dance world. Dancers didn’t tend to take part in regional performances and musical theater like the rest of us.
Me: Do you know who would have the inside track on the dancers?
More typing.
Lola: I don’t know many dancers. They’re a weird breed.
I snort laughed at that. It was true. They tended to be snobby and stick to themselves, like dance was just so much more dignified than all the rest of the dramatic arts. Even at the meeting in August, the dancers had sat amongst themselves….
Well, except one.
Layne must have had the same thought.
Layne: You could ask Lillian.
Lillian, that was her name. I sorted through the members again and then typed her name into the same IM chat.
Me: Hey Lillian! Remember us? The divas are back! And we need your dancerly insights.
Layne: I’m pretty sure dancerly isn’t a word.
Lola responded with a laughing emoji.
Lillian: Sure, what’s up?
Me: Do you know any dancers who are competing for the community outreach scholarship?
Lillian: No. But I don’t know all the dancers.
Me: If you hear anything let me know?
All three of them agreed to keep an ear out.
Lola: So I take it you’re going for that prize as well as acting?
Me: Yeah. Just hedging my bets. I really need a scholarship so I can get as far away from home as possible.
For some reason, I could say that to them. Hannah knew my home life situation, but she was the only person at our school who had any idea how miserable I was living with my mom and how much I was dying to escape after graduation. I didn’t want anyone else to know, particularly not the guys I dated. Why?
I scowled at the memory of Jax in the hallway today.
Precisely for that reason. Guys had this weird idea that girls wanted to be taken care of. Maybe some girls did, but this girl?
She could take care of herself, thank you very much. And the last thing I wanted was a bunch of strangers getting all up in my biz or worse, taking pity on me.
Yet, for some reason, I had no problem saying it in a chat with three relative strangers.
Lola: Girl, I hear you.
Layne: We’re in the same boat. We need that money.
Lillian: I don’t think any of us would be putting ourselves through all this if we didn’t, right?
I stared at Lillian’s comment. She was right. That was why the competition was so fierce. Everyone in it was out for blood. Everyone competing was likely just as desperate as I was.
I hesitated for a second. Maybe it was the fact that it was an online chat so it felt anonymous, or maybe because I knew I wouldn’t have to face them at school the next day, but I ended up spilling my guts.
Me: I’m getting nervous that I don’t have what it takes to win the acting scholarship.
There was a long pause and then it felt like all three of them started typing at once.
Lola: Same!! (But with singing.)
Layne: I am TERRIFIED that people are going to hate my song.
Lillian: I’m just terrified. Period.
Next thing I knew Lola was trying to reassure Layne, and Layne was reassuring Lillian, and Lillian was reassuring me.
It was kind of…nice.
Like, for the first time in a long time I was talking to people who totally got it.
Layne: I guess we’re all scared, huh? That’s nice to know.
Lola: I wouldn’t say we’re ALL scared…
I snorted with laughter because I knew who she meant. The FB page was filled with comments from the diva to end all divas—Jenna. She had no problem bragging about her song or giving people notes on what they should and
