The studio was nice. Well, not nice, but nicer than most. That was to be expected though. This was Wicked, this was the big time.
She sat down in one of the hard chairs lining three of the four walls. There were lots of people here, but she reminded herself that at least half of them had to be longshots. Some were blonde, some were brunette, some were just so nervous and finiky that was all you could notice. She ran her fingers over her sheet music and resume in her hand, her headshot clipped to the front, hair slightly curled and shiny, lips pinky and natural, face clear, but not fake.
"Ivy Lynn?" A man called from behind the heavy door. His face was plain, boring, higher-upper. In a word, intimidating. She looked up.
"Yes, right here." She stood straight and tall. Confident Ivy, confident.
The room was old. Chipping paint, water stains, but good resonance-that would be to her advantage. There were five casting agents seated in front of her; their faces emotionless and judgmental. Would it kill these guys to act a little warm? She didn't know these people, they weren't like family. They weren't Tom and Julia.
"Have you prepared a piece?" The one on the end asked.
"Yes. It's actually a piece from the last show I did," she smiled as sweetly as possible and handed the man at the piano her sheet music. "
"Good luck," he whispered, gathering the jumbled pages.
She stood as tall as possible, though maybe her height on the short side was an advantage for once, Glinda did usually seem rather petite. Still she straightened her shoulders and relaxed her fingers, letting them dangle freely. These people notice everything she thought; don't give them anything to notice.
The pianist started to play; the carefully timed notes eased her nerves. She'd heard them so many times, felt them warm her as she sang, as she had become Marilyn each and every night. The lights shimmering off her, the song making her a star. She could do this.
"They thought they could dispose of me, they tried to make me small. I suffered each indignity, but now rise above it all. Yes, the price I paid was all I had, but at last I found the lease. And if something good, can come from bad, the past can rest in peace," she hit every note as purely and emotionally as she could. On the second to last 'don't forget me' her voice wavered a tiny bit, but she told herself they couldn't have noticed.
"Thank you miss…" he lifted a few sheets of paper, "Ivy…"
"Thank you!" She said, taking her music back from the accompanist.
"You did good sweetheart," he said, "real good."
"Good luck!"
"You're gonna do great!"
"Thanks guys," Karen called, walking swiftly up the steps to the studio. The street behind her was so full of lights and sounds, judgers and dreamers, people just like her. She yanked nervously on her jet black cardigan. Sure she'd grasped the spotlight, but could she hold on to it?
Everyone looked so perfect, so relaxed, like they did this all the time. She remembered all the way back to her first big audition. The Bombshell workshop. That girl, Ivy. Where was she now?
"Karen Cartwright?" A voice called.
Please, let me be your star, she thought. Karen remembered seeing Wicked for the first time when she was only 14. The powerful music that soaked into her and gave her chills, the image of that green girl, her story begging to be told, the glimmer of each and every costume and light and song. It had been the very reason she'd gotten into performing. She wanted to make others feel the way she did the first time she saw the show. What better way to do that than become Elphaba herself?
Inside the room seemed smaller, the air seemed thinner. Could she ever get over these nerves? That constant feeling that someone had to be better than her? She shook it off as best she could. Ivy always seemed so gathered and confident. Karen tried to remind herself that behind that beautifully full-of-it exterior was a girl just about broken as her character. If Ivy could fake it, so could she.
She handed the man at the piano her music. He smiled kindly. Thank god someone here is friendly!
She stood relaxed and tall, swallowed, and started. "I'm high above the city. I'm standing on the ledge. The view from here is pretty, and I step off the edge…" Was it a little cliché to sing a song from the last show she did? Yes. But it seemed so fitting to an Elphaba audition. So hopeful, but suggestive of a darker time coming. The emotion was as beautiful and heart wrenching as Elphaba herself. Plus, the belt was killer.
She finished more dramatically than the song might typically ensue. But this audition had to be over-the-top. She tried to smile, even though inside she ached with nerves and anticipation and anxiety all churned together. Maybe her face wasn't as bright as it should have been, but she wanted so badly to believe in the talent being the star, not the fabrication of perfection.
She collected her music from the accompanist, surprised to find it neatly stacked, not strewn everywhere like usual. "I see a lot of talent pass through here," he said, "You're special sweetheart." He patted her on the shoulder.
"Thank you Karen," a voice called from behind her just as she was about to utter a sincere thanks to the piano man. He smiled sympathetically as she walked from the room, filled just a little bit more with pride.
"So?"
"That, ah," he lifted some papers, "Karen…Cartwright."
"Absolutly, something about her just…shines."
"Can she do it? Look at her resume, other than Hit List, what has she got going for her? Not much, she's a greenie."
Another man chuckled, "Aren't we looking for green?"
"Well, what about Glinda?"
"That Ivy girl, she had some star power, and her likeness practically screamed Galinda."
"It's not the Galinda side I'm worried about, it's Glinda."
"Her voice is sweet, angelic, I say giver another shot at least. Ask her to sing something higher."
"Alright then, it's settled. Karen Cartwright, Ella Puren, Selena Marx, Lexie Callahn, and Ivy Lynn welcome to callbacks."
"I'll contact them straightaway," A secretary burst from the room.
The pianist chuckled at his bench.
"Yes," one of the casting me asked.
"You best be gettin' Steven in here. I think you've got a hell of combination going that you don't even know yet." He smiled and laughed again. Star power, shining, sweet. Those girls were more special than they might ever understand.