Hey! I just had this thought yesterday since I noticed there isn't an abundant load of AU fanfictions in the bleach fandom. So, I'm going to try to get this one off the ground. I love Broadway and Bleach; so why not combine them? (did you know they made a bleach musical in japan? ah! scary!)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Bleach nor characters or plot from the musical RENT, which are owned by the Larson family.

"Thank you everyone, that will be all for today."

Jushiro Ukitake sighed and lifted one pale, delicate hand to massage his now throbbing right temple as the faceless group of actors left the stage; this day had been nothing short of worthless. As a man of the arts, Ukitake appreciated anyone with dedication to the theater, but no one seemed to fit the bill he'd set for this production. Perhaps Shunsui was right: Ukitake's expectations were a bit high. But never in his life had Ukitake settled for anything less than excellence and this show would be no different; he would put on a revival production of RENT that would do the late Jonathan Larson proud.

Kyoraku Shunsui smiled faintly as his age old friend retook his seat, sighing heavily. Over the years, Ukitake had managed to retain his thin form, though Shunsui had a feeling this was directly related to his illness. Ukitake had been born with unfortunately weak lungs and, after three bouts with pneumonia in high school, he developed a cough that never seemed to end. It was seemingly undiagnosable, but Shunsui had a feeling the diagnosis wouldn't have pleased them anyway. Perhaps they didn't want to know.

Shunsui had known Ukitake since their days as boys and he knew exactly what his friend was feeling at all times. Currently, it was minor distress and agitation. Ukitake leaned back in his chair, magnificent white locks spilling over the back as he searched the theater ceiling with troubled charcoal eyes.

"I honestly didn't think it would be this hard, Shunsui."

Shunsui chuckled, his low voice nearly causing vibrations in the surrounding air. He ran a tan hand through his own curly brown hair, which he'd allowed to grow longer than most found quite acceptable. "You always say that. With every production."

"And I'm always exaggerating, but this time..." Ukitake trailed off, frowning indefinitely as he crossed his thin arms across his chest. "I just don't know. No one is right for RENT, none of them understand it. You can tell by the way they stand up there and throw out Bernadette Peters impersonations. RENT is like a musical untouched by the elitism of Broadway, but we can't exude that if the cast is full of..."

"Elitists?" Shunsui offered, mahogany eyes twinkling.

This managed to provoke a weary smile from Ukitake, who laughed rather dryly. "Exactly." He raised a hand to his mouth as a small series of coughs hit the air, a sound which Shunsui had grown used to but never truly accepted.

"I'm calling it a day, Ukitake. Let's go home."

The two men gathered there things and donned winter coats before exiting the theater, saying goodnight to the night crew as they arrived for cleaning. The ghostlight flickered on just as they left the building, entering the cold New York streets in time for a blast of cold air.

Shunsui narrowed his eyes as Ukitake pressed a hand to his chest, obviously in some discomfort from the cold. Winter was always a frightening time for both men, Ukitake from fear of illness and Shunsui from fear for Ukitake. "I know you dislike it, but we're taking the subway," Shunsui said mildly, using his usual casual tone with a slight edge. Ukitake knew there was no room for argument and he nodded briefly, walking the twenty some odd feet to the nearest subway entrance.

The world below was grimy, infested and dark, but Shunsui had always found something magical about the subway. He thought the idea of moving in a long car below the ground was fascinating, space age and unusual. Shunsui had always dearly loved the unusual.

"I know I'm hard to please, Shunsui; it must irritate you," Ukitake said apologetically as they walked down the stairs, finally shielded from the wind.

Shunsui shrugged his broad shoulders, replying, "I'm used to it by now, my friend. I'm a damn good producer, so I'll work with anything you bring me. Just remember, we're a team. And I'm not so easy to please these days either; must be the 'Age of Cynicism' finally getting to me."

Smiling fondly, Ukitake glanced over at his friend as they walked towards the 8 Avenue line platform. "And I'll direct anything your willing to produce, but at this rate, RENT isn't going to happen. No one has the edge; they're all just...broadway copies. No one's Bohemian anymore."

"I know what you mean," came Shunsui's pleasant reply. "Like with the part of Mimi for instance; did you see one girl on that stage comfortable with stripping? Or shooting up for that matter?"

Remembering the many girls they'd auditioned that day, most of whom were incredibly talented but not for RENT, Ukitake shook his head sadly. "No. And then there's Mark. He's hard to play; you can't force geekiness, I'm afraid."

"But we both know where the hardest role to fill is," Shunsui continued, shaking his brown head mournfully and consequently knocking loose a curl from his ponytail.

"Roger," the two men sighed simultaneously. And it was true; no one was gritty enough, rock enough, or dare they say, badass enough to play Roger. The men onstage during auditions were meant for roles like Jean Val Jean or The Phantom; they were classical broadway actors. None of them even scratched the surface of AIDS, suicidal lover's angst or raw, screaming passion. And without a Roger, RENT would just be another musical peddled to the masses. Neither Ukitake nor Shunsui could possibly have that.

Ukitake gave what seemed to be his umpteenth sigh for the day and glanced absently to the side when the strains of a guitar met his ears. He rather enjoyed subway performers, as he appreciated all forms of art, but they were few and far between these days. He preferred it that way, however; most of these people were true Bohemians, nearly the only ones left out there.

Blinking, Ukitake was startled to find a shock of bright orange hair awaiting his eyes as he found the source of the guitar music. A young man, maybe in his early twenties, was sitting against the wall beneath a 'home loan' advertisement, artfully bent around a beaten up guitar. His jeans were torn, his red shirt threadbare and his jacket patched, but what caught Ukitake's eyes most was his attitude. Simply the way he sat there, strumming his guitar with the wide open case before him, seemed to ooze gritty, rock hard badassity.

Shunsui paused as he noticed Ukitake lingering behind and he furrowed his brow, turning to address his friend. He opened his mouth to speak but paused when he found Ukitake preoccupied with an orange-haired subway performer, a ratty specimen of a boy, playing a nice rock melody on his accoustic guitar. Shunsui stepped back and joined his friend, standing there in front of the boy as he played, before a remarkable thing happened; the boy began to sing.

His voice wasn't particularly well trained, nor was it what a voice teacher would consider "of good tone," but it was just the way Ukitake had pictured the voice of a certain someone. It was husky and rough, but reached well in the higher octaves, as well as delivering an almost pleasantly wide vibrato along with the sound. The voice was undoubtedly the voice of Ukitake's Roger.

Shaking his head slightly, Shunsui smiled as he watched Ukitake's keen eyes focusing on the boy as though he were a piece of meat at the butcher shop. Knowing his friend as well as he did, Shunsui could safely bet on what Ukitake was thinking at that exact moment. As the boy's song came to an end, his suspicions were justified.

Ukitake said one word.

"Magnificent."

The boy glanced up from his guitar, seeming to notice the two men for the first time, and he gave a slight nod. "Thanks, glad ya like it."

Shunsui reached into his pocket and withdrew his wallet, tossing in a ten dollar bill; the boy looked worn and weary as it was and to have Ukitake staring at him so intensely without giving money seemed a bit unfair.

"That's quite a voice you have there," Shunsui said, trying to jumpstart Ukitake into achieving some sort of objective.

This seemed to jolt Ukitake out of his glory-induced trance and he shook his white head slightly, smiling down genuinely at the orange-haired guitar player. "It certainly is. It's unlike any voice I've ever heard. Remarkable."

The boy rubbed the back of his neck in minor embarrassment as a light pink stained his cheeks. "Eh, thanks a lot, I don't think s'anythin' that special."

"Oh but it is," Ukitake continued, crossing his arms casually. "In fact, I think I have a way that you could use your voice somewhere besides the subway."

Blinking, the guitar player's dark eyes searched Ukitake's smiling face and Shunsui's mildly amused one before he muttered, "Oh, yer some a those talent scouts, aincha? The ones that come down 'ere and sucker players outta their money. Well, I ain't interested."

"No, were not talent scouts," Shunsui said before Ukitake could rally in their defense. "We're theater guys, producer and director. See my friend here is desperate to put on a production of RENT, but the talent sea is growing dry. You're perfect for one of the parts."

At this, the boy let out a derisive laugh and began collecting the money littered in the bottom of his guitar case; it was nearing eight and he preferred to get out of the subway before 8:30; night life began early in New York and the weirdos began early with it. "That's a good one, theater. I think I'm doin' alright, but thanks fer the donation."

Knowing he meant the ten dollar bill, Shunsui nodded in recognition and watched as the guitarist pocketed the money before setting his guitar inside the case. Ukitake looked over at Shunsui, as though expecting him to stop the boy from leaving, but soon found that he was on his own.

"Wait, please. How much do you make in a day?" Ukitake asked, searching the boys face for an answer.

Shrugging, the orange haired musician hefted the case in his left hand and replied, "Hundred n' ten bucks on a good day. I'm doin' alright."

"You could make twice that every day in the theater, if you play your cards right," Ukitake responded, eyes probing and voice adopting a convincing lean.

The orange-haired guitarist felt as though he couldn't leave without saying goodbye, as it was rather rude, but he was getting itchy under the white haired man's stare. He hadn't seen such desperate eyes in a wealthy man in quite some time. Oh, he could tell that both men before him were doing alright in the fiscal department, especially the dark haired one; he didn't dress richly, but he was wearing a Rolex and a particularly nice ring on his left hand. He was obviously one of those reluctant millionaires.

But this did little to sway the boy, who only replied, "Nah, I'm fine bein' poor. Money ain't everything."

"See? You're perfect for RENT!" Ukitake exclaimed, delighted by the boy's Bohemain qualities.

"I don't think I am, but thanks fer the thought anyway. Nice meeting y-"

"You're right. It's not about money or fame or any of the those things; theater is about something else."

Both Ukitake and the boy turned to face Shunsui, who they'd expected the keep quiet after explaining Ukitake's motives. Smiling fondly as he thought of the theater, Shunsui ran one of his hands over his unshaved jaw and said distantly, "Theater is about achieving something deeper for yourself. Sure, you can earn the paycheck and go on your way, but every show stays with you. This all sucks. New York, America, the World, it sucks; there's hate and greed and deceit everywhere. You can't seem to find an honest man. But in the theater, you get up on that stage and you sing your heart out, dance your hardest, make people forget about how much everything sucks, and they leave with hope. Then you realize that, even with your sad little existence being pathetic and insignificant like it is, you've made a difference to someone somewhere and they're going to live a little bit happier. That's what it's really about."

The three men were silent as Shunsui continued with his distant smile and Ukitake stared slightly open mouthed at his old friend; it was rare that Shunsui said something deep and intellectual like that, but when he chose to connect on a stronger plane, he could be quite inspirational. The boy seemed struck but what the older man had said and his lips were parted, dark eyes wide as he stared at this "reluctant millionaire." Every single word he'd said was his own belief, of that the guitarist was sure. He was obviously quite reluctant because money seemed to mean little to him. Perhaps that's why he produced shows; to put money into something worthwhile.

"Making a difference?" the boy repeated, seemig to test the words on his tongue.

Sighing pleasantly, Ukitake murmured, "He's quite right. Sometimes you forget that when your dazzled by the business, but that's what it's about. If you have the talent, theater is a great place to utilize it because it makes a difference to so many people, not just yourself. RENT is an especially good show if you want to talk about making a difference; its about the AIDS epidemic and helping the poor man. Real issues."

After a brief silence, during which the orange haired boy stared down at his ratty Converses with a thoughtful look in his dark eyes, he looked up and met Ukitake's expectant gaze. "So you'd just want my voice? I wouldn't be dancin' like any of those chorus line girls in tights, right?"

Laughing, Ukitake replied reassuringly, "Not a stocking in sight, I swear. If you fit the part I'm imagining you in, you would barely even have to act either. He basically is you. A guitarist with a little bit of an edge to him. This would be great, anyway, we wouldn't have to fake the guitar parts, you could actually play them. What do you say?"

Seeming to consider this for a moment, the boy glanced over at Shunsui, who gave him a nod in return. Smirking slightly, the guitarist said warmly, "I'll give it a try."

"Excellent!" Ukitake exclaimed, clapping his hands together in excitement. Seeing the desperate look waning in his eyes did the musician before him good. "I'll give you our card. What's you name, by the way?"

"Kurosaki Ichigo," the boy replied as he glanced over the card just handed him, noticing the address to an office in Manhattan; so they were wealthy afterall. The card read "Jushiro Ukitake and Kyoraku Shunsui, Directing/Producing Team."

"I'm Ukitake and this is Shunsui; it's good to meet you, Ichigo," Ukitake said brightly, enflamed by the news of this boy's interest. "Auditions are tomorrow starting at 10 a.m at the Royal Wycoff Theater. We'll see you there."

Ichigo nodded slightly, smiling at both men. "Sure thing."

As the men parted ways and Ukitake and Shunsui hurried to catch their train, Shunsui glanced over at the wide smile now gracing the face of his long time best friend. He would have to say that making a sappy and somewhat clichéd speech about the theater was worth that smile, but he would never admit such a thing out loud. He survived to keep Ukitake smiling and Ukitake survived to keep Shunsui grounded. That was basically the way they worked and neither man would have it any other way.

Smiling blearily, Shunsui ran his finger absently over the edge of his beer top, glancing around as another ragged cheer went up. After depositing Ukitake in their shared apartment, Shunsui had decided to take a night on the town in one of his favorite clubs, Hardbodies. If the name was any indication, this particular club featured nightly performances by the famous group of Hardbody Dancers, who, unsurprisingly, wore absolutely no clothes and favored the pole if at all possible. Shunsui hummed a tune to himself as the alcohol began casting a haze over his mind; after long days of auditioning or rehearsing, he enjoyed a good night to himself, surrounded by naked women. It was a passion of his and Ukitake seemed to find it more amusing that abhoring. Of course Shunsui didn't pretend to know what Ukitake thought about everything.

On a whim, Shunsui pulled a crumpled package from within his pocket and began searching for his lighter, which picked and chose its times to be available. The lights dimmed as another show began and, while the other men let loose wild and mildly drunken cheers, Shunsui murmured a curse; now he really wouldn't be able to find the lighter.

The trash-can beat melody of Rob Zombie's "Real Solution #9" began pumping from the speakers, sending a low vibration through the floor and chairs. As soon as the spotlights hit the stage, girls began to pour in from the back, where they'd obviously been waiting to make their debut. Shunsui was still searching hopelessly for his Zippo when his brown eyes caught sight of an unfamiliar face onstage. When a likewise intriguing set of motions caught his eye, he stopped his search and allowed his gaze to settle on this beautiful creature.

She was, without a doubt, the smallest of the dancers in both measurements and height, but the way she moved was intoxicating. The rhythym of her hips, the sensuous roll of her spine; every rock and grind was like a sweet smelling drug and the men cheered as she took center stage. Her Raven black hair, tossled and parted to the side, shimmered under the stage lights as she smiled sexily and reached for the strap of her red lace bra.

Shunsui had made it a habit of his to look into the face of every stripper, for he'd noticed that there were several different kinds. Some girls looked at ease, others uncomfortable, while some were even more mysterious still. This girl's facial expression was quite the paradigm for, though her red lips were curved in a smile, her grey eyes seemed to be crying tearlessly, as though she could find no more reason to breathe other than to dance. Shunsui was captured by this look and he continued to watch her, mouth closed and eyes halfhooded as was his fashion. Her bra was soon removed and tossed aside, landing in the lap of a lucky club goer, but Shunsui didn't even think to look down; her eyes were too intriguing.

Indeed, he felt no romantic or sexual attraction to this girl; the interest he felt was strictly on a business level. Smiling pleasantly, he stood as the song came to a close and the girls disappeared behind the barrier, leaving behind a roaring crowd of increasingly intoxicated men. Shunsui placed his hands in his coat pocket and began walking calmly towards the stage entrance, continuing to smile blithely as he encountered the familiar face of Ralph Minks, the owner of Hardbodies. Ukitake isn't the only one willing to scout for this production, he thought craftily as he approached Ralph, who's greasy black hair shone like metal in the light.

Ralph glanced up and grinned around his cigar, exclaiming, "Kyo fucking Shunsui. How are ya, my man?"

Shunsui indulgently shook the clubowner's hand, feeling the cold press of his many rings. "I'm doing alright, I suppose. A long day of auditioning, so you know where I always come."

Chuckling, Ralph gestured to the stagedoor. "Got yer eye on someone, Shunsui? You know the girls love you."

The taller man shrugged his shoulders, upsetting yet another brown curl from his ponytail; it only added to his handsomely unkempt appearance and his smirk seemed to grow a bit wider. "I saw someone who I'm interested in, yes."

"Well go on in, buddy, you know you're always welcome," Ralph continued, grinning in his eager-to-please manner. He opened the door for Shunsui, who nodded his thanks before disappearing inside the dressing room; men screened by Ralph were always allowed.

As naked female bodies scurried to and fro, looking for the right thong or the correct shade of eyeshadow, several voices called Shunsui's name and several winks were cast in his direction. He nodded in acknowledgement to each and every one as he continued down the line of mirrors, looking for the raven-haired beauty before he finally saw her sitting quietly in a chair before her vanity, staring blankly at her own reflection as she removed a pair of fake eyelashes.

Shunsui approached at a leisurely pace, as sneaking up on people happened to be Ukitake's specialty and not his. The girl blinked her magnificent grey eyes as she noticed the presence beside her and she turned, tattered white robe a startling contrast against her ink black hair. She's the only girl in here with a cover on, Shunsui mused.

"Can I help you?"

Her voice was deep but musical and made Shunsui think of roses for some reason. Her voice just seemed romantic in his mind, of course his tendency towards disassociation might have something to do with that. Smiling disarmingly, he replied, "Yes, actually you can." Reaching inside his pocket, he withdrew a business card from his wallet and handed it to the girl, who took it confusedly. "I'm Shunsui, a theater producer. This may be rather sudden, but I have the perfect part for you in a show my partner and I have just undertaken. If you're interested, we could talk about it over coffee."

The girl stared at the card in her hand as though it held the secret to life, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. Finally she looked up at Shunsui and asked skeptically, "Is this some kind of joke? Did someone put you up to this? Cause if you're talking about a musical or something, I'm not a singer."

Shrugging, Shunsui just continued to smile, brown eyes twinkling. "No one put me up to it, sweetheart, I'm just trying to take an opportunity as it presents itself. Trust me, I don't normally do this sort of thing, but there's not a dancer who's come to auditions and knows how to dance like you do. This isn't normal broadway tap dancing, see. This show is...a bit different."

Snorting, the small woman asked caustically, "What, a titty show? I've got all I can handle right here, thanks."

"No," Shunsui replied, voice faraway and whimsical. "I don't do that sort of show. This is Broadway, sweetheart. The real deal. I just came in here to unwind after a day of dead-end auditions, girls who tried to grind like Ethel Merman. But you've got it, that 'it' we producers and directors look for. And if you'll just take a chance on me, I'll even pay for the coffee. What do you say?"

This girl seemed to consider something for a moment before she said quietly, "Let me get dressed." She turned to retreive her clothes but, on an after thought, she said quietly, "My name is Rukia. Kuchiki Rukia."

Rukia escaped to a more private area where she shed her robe and dressed herself, returning promptly in jeans, a long sleeve black shirt and a tattered fur coat. Shunsui suspected it might've been a magnificent coat once upon a time, black mink it looked to be, but he made no comment on it. Based on the way she was clutching on to it for dear life as they exited the club, there was more past in that coat than Shunsui cared to know.

The two found quiet in a dark coffee club on the corner where the owner, another acquaintance of Shunsui's, agreed to let them talk over a latte as he cleaned up and closed the shop for the night.

As Rukia held the steaming coffee cup in her hands, she gave a slight laugh and murmured, "Getting backstage through Ralph and getting us into some coffee shop at midnight? You've got a lot of connections, don't you?"

Shunsui shrugged and leaned back against the booth, the green leather of which was torn in several places. He began picking at one of the tears as he responded almost amusedly, "I guess my work in theater got me more than just rent money. You meet a lot of people along the way." There was a brief silence between the two before Shunsui seemed to remember their original intention. "Speaking of rent money, the show is consequently called RENT."

Rukia's eyes flickered up so quickly that Shunsui thought she might've been startled out of a dream by his voice. She was staring at him so intensely, he wondered if she might be trying to light his hair aflame. Finally, she said, "RENT? The musical? 1996?"

The surprise must've been written on Shunsui's face, for Rukia seemed to pause and finally gave an embarrased laugh. "I'm sorry, it's just...my sister was in that musical once. She was an actress, a great actress until..." She trailed off, eyes becoming unfocused as a piece of wild raven hair escape the French twist she'd created before she left Hardbodies.

"Until what?" Shunsui probed, curiosity indefinitely piqued. If the girl knew the musical, this might be an even better match than he'd hoped.

Rukia swallowed, replying shakily, "Until she died two years ago. Throat cancer, very sudden, killed her in three weeks. But I still remember watching her in RENT when I was twelve. She played Mimi."

The breath seemed to escape Shunsui's mouth in a tired stream as he ran his hand over his mouth, eyes downcast. Giving a wry chuckle, he murmured, "Funny, that's the role I was scouting you for."

Rukia's eyes shot up once more from her untouched latte. "Really? Me?"

"You've got the look, if you let your hair grow out a few inches. And you've definitely got the body, not to mention the skill. I think you're the godsend Ukitake and I have been waiting for because, if you've seen the show, you know that-"

"It's not good without the right Mimi," Rukia whispered, nodding almost acceptingly. She smiled almost bitterly, tightening her grip on the mug and not seeming to notice as the glass burned her hands. "Right."

"It's a good opportunity. And I'm sure we could work around your job at Harbodies," Shunsui continued, noticing her change in demeanor but knowing he could break through it. "You'd be very good. You might even surprise yourself."

Rukia was quite for so long that Shunsui was worried he'd actually lost a discussion. Since long before most could remember, Shunsui had been a master at manipulating conversations and Ukitake often joked that, without Shunsui's golden tongue, neither of them would've made it in the business. While most thought about winning or losing arguments, Shunsui thought about winning and losing discussions; no matter which way you looked at the matter, every single verbal encounter ended with winners and losers. Shunsui was in the habit of winning.

This is why he was quite pleased when Rukia looked up and said, "If I do this, I can't take less than what I'm being paid at the club. I'm just trying to get through school, okay? I'm not really a stripper, I mean, I do it because it gets you a lot of money fast an-"

"It's okay, it's okay," Shunsui interrupted, holding up his large hands pasively. During her explanation, Rukia had grown rather red in the face and hurried to defend her position, but he hadn't even thought to argue; he was rather impressed, in fact. He said so. "I think anyone who's willing to work their way through school deserves a medal, no matter what they do for it. School is important."

Satisfied for the moment, Rukia leaned back against the booth and tried to relax her shoulders. Just the mention of Hardbodies made her angry; she was angry at herself for not being able to find a higher paying substitute. But maybe this was her chance.

"How much would I be paid? Daily?" Rukia asked, seeming embarrased to ask, as she found it rather rude.

However, Shunsui just smiled and replied, "Normally, you're not paid by the day, but I'm sure we can work something out. I'll look over your finances with you and figure out what our budget can accomodate as well; I was a finance major in college, anyway. I figure I should do something with that degree besides the books for our shows. You'll be making more than you made at Hardbodies, I guarantee that."

The light which erupted in Rukia's eyes was unmistakable and she leapt to her feet, startling not only Shunsui but the men cleaning up behind the counter. "I'll do it! I'll work hard for you, Mr. Shunsui, I promise!" Not only was the promised raise exciting, but the chance to follow in her beloved sister Hisana's footsteps as Mimi was almost too much to dream about. Maybe now, Rukia could finally feel like someone, like a great woman. Like her sister was.

"Shunsui is fine, Rukia," the man laughed, brown eyes twinkling at the excited girl. He was fond of her already, in an almost fatherly fashion, and he hoped the show would live up to her expectations. Based on her reaction, she was at least twenty times more excited than Ichigo had been. "You've already got my card," he said, standing to his feet and rolling his shoulders. "Auditions begin at 10 a.m sharp tomorrow, Royal Wycoff theater. Don't be late."

"I won't be, I promise!" Rukia continued to pledge, even as Shunsui smiled and bowed his head, turning to leave. "I won't let you down, Mr. Shunsui!"

Shunsui raised his hand in a farewell as he exited the shop, feeling rather invigorated by the chilly night air. He was certainly proud of himself and couldn't wait to tell Ukitake about his own scouting talents. I bet Ichigo and Rukia will look good together on stage. I just hope we'll be able to take a bunch of non-actors and turn them into Broadway material. But with our team, I guess nothing's impossible."

Yes, it was already a better night for Kyoraku Shunsui.

I would like to own up to creating the word "badassity" for my own purposes. I think I'll use it in conversation now. But thanks for reading and reviews would be nice, but if you don't feel inspired, I'm not going to coerce you. Next chapter will be the auditions and first rehearsal, which my friends and I call "hearsal," as you can't rehearse something you haven't hearsed yet. So Thanks!

KOLU