There was a group of seven waiting around the doors. Auditions started in twenty minutes. The director was known for being rather hard to impress. A loud rumbling sound caused a few heads to turn.

A teenager swerved into a parking spot, flipping his kickstand down. His red hair was windblown, his young passenger wearing his helmet. The teen helped the little boy down, hanging the helmet against from the bike's handle. The teen swung a backpack over his shoulder, holding the boy's hand.

"Are the doors open yet?" He asked. Heading over to the group.

"We still have twenty minutes." A man spoke, he was lean and tall. A weathered look on his aged face.

"I told you we weren't late." The teen smirked, his friend drawling closer. The ginger frowned. "Come on man, you can do it." The shoved his head into the teens leg, shaking his head. The four ladies there cooed slightly, the teen smiling at them thankfully. He pried the boy of him, forcing him to look up. "Say hi."

The boy's bright blue eyes were begging, but the ginger pressed him forward. He gulped, yanking his hood up on his jacket. With a groan the teen yanked it down.

"Eye contact."

"Rooooy—I'm not supposta." He whined, inching to Roy—stopped him.

"Yes, you are."

He gulped, facing them. So shy, this one was.

"Hi." He squeaked. "My n-name's Dick." And his was clinging onto his brother.

The same man as before spoke. "Hi Dick, I'm Brad." He gently offered his hand. Dick chewed on his lip, Roy nudging his arm.

"He's not going to hurt you, I'll kick anyone's butt who tries."

Dick slowly rung Brad's hand, once again latching onto Roy. The ginger rolled his eyes, messing up Dick's hair.

"You know you'll have to go onstage without me right?"

"…yeah."

"Why didn't you go to the kids audition?" A blond man asked, closing the sheet music he was looking at.

"Scared." Dick blurted out. "I-I was scared to try o-out. But I'm d-doing it now."

"I'm Marleen." She smiled at the little boy. "What part do you want Dick?"

"I want to be Charlie. I p-probably won't get through…"

"I think you will. I'm going out for Willy Wonka." Brad winked.

Roy squeezed his shoulders, beaming proudly. "Dick has the best singing voice I've ever heard. Go on, show off a bit kiddo."

Dick shook his head, until the adults encouraged him.

"Let's see what everyone else is up against." Brad tempted. Dick looked nervously around.

"He's not here Dickie. Prove him wrong." Roy said, his words seeming to bring comfort.

"Close every door to me, hide all the world from me. Bar all the windows and shut out…the light." His voice was soft and childish, but as he closed his eyes it was obvious he had a strong voice. "Do what you want with me, hate me and laugh at me. Darken my daytime, and torture my night." Roy was smiling broadly, letting the boy sing at the top of his lungs. "If my life were important I would ask, will I live or die. But I know the answers lie far from this world."

Dick giggled slightly as he finished, Roy giving a huge clap—shouting 'whoop' at the top of his lungs. It was obvious who much pride he had for the boy.

"That was amazing." Marleen clapped, Dick beaming. "Are you singing that for auditions?"

"N-No." He shrugged. "I don't know y-yet. I l-like a lot of them."

"Jay wants you to do 'Any Day Now'." Roy shrugged. The two broke off by themselves, debating what song he should sing.

Breakline

Roy ran off that stage as fast as he could. He decided to audition, to show Dick he shouldn't be scared. But holy crap, that Ron guy was scary. He looked over his glasses, really judging Roy. Yeah, he so hadn't gotten a part.

He sunk in the theater seat, Dick grabbing his arm, whispering in his ear.

"You did a good job." Roy laughed softly.

"You'll do even better."

"I'm scared." Roy pinched his cheek slightly.

"Don't be. Close your eyes, act like your singing for us. Just you and the fam. Belt it out. You'll knock his socks off."

They sat in a nervous silence, listening as the adults laughed easily and sang their hearts out. Until Dick froze, his blue eyes shimmering with fear.

"Dick Grayson-Jordan?"

"Go kiddo, show them how it's done." Roy whispered, Dick walking shakily onto the stage.

He blinked under the lights, offering a thin smile to the three people in the front. The music director, Tony, choreographer Allyson and director Ron. His heart was beating rapidly.

"So, how old are you Dick?"

"Nine, Sir." Ron nodded jotting something down.

"And you're auditioning for Charlie Bucket?" Allison questioned this time.

"Yes, Ma'am." He added a nod.

"What'll you bee singing for us?"

"Any Day Now, from Fiddler on the Roof." Jason's favorite.

Tony nodded, interested. "Anytime you're ready."

He glanced at Roy, who nodded rapidly, smiling from ear to ear. He took his stance, taking in the air he needed—and then:

"I'm very happy, Hodel, very happy. I will write you a note saying pack your things. Any day now. Any day. And we'll sit and we'll smile at our, wedding rings, any day now. Any day." He let his voice build up, letting himself become lost in the music. "For our forestalled hopes will be fulfilled, together what a clean and shiny world we'll build. For the dust and decay will be, swept away—"He felt his body spin around, dragging his foot across the ground as if it were a broom. "Any day now. It will happen. Yes, the river will rise and the dam will burst. Any day now, any day." He held out the last note.

"And the first will be last and the last be first. Any day now, any day. When a million of hands will be untied, a million doors and windows will be opened wide." He threw his eyes open, the images in his head of his own freedom. He belted out the words, throwing his hand straight out. "And the chains will be snapped and the, whips be burned. And the swords be turned into plowshares!
Any day now, any day. And the first will be last and the last be first. Any day now any day. When a million hands will be untied, a million doors and windows will be opened wide. And the storm will subside and the thunder cease, and the sound of peace shall surround us! Any day now, any day!"

He panted ever so slightly, eyes twinkling with life. Roy gave a fist pump—clapping along wildly. Ron looked, a little impressed.

"I've recently done Fiddler, you was very good. Thank you Dick." Dick nodded, scurrying offstage into the house.

Roy immediately high fived him. Pulling him into a headlock and giving him a noogie.

"Atta boy." He let his brother go. "I recorded it for your dad and Jay. If you don't get the part I'll be shocked." Roy was convinced Dick would be cast as Charlie, and Dick hoped so.

Breakline

The ring made the boys head jerk up, a noodle hanging out from his mouth. Carol smiled at her son, placing the phone to her ear.

"Hello? Yes, this is. He's here, would you like to speak with him? I'll put him on, just a moment." She let Dick's little hand wrap around it. Hal stabbed a piece of chicken, watching hopefully.

"Yes?" He choked out, excitement dancing in his eyes. His mouth dropped, eyes wide. "Yes! I-I'd love to! O-Okay, I'll be t-there. Thank you, t-thank you!" He hung up. Beaming madly. "I got the part!" He screamed, jumping up from his seat at the table. Hal laughed as the boy jumped up and down, screaming that phrase over and over.

"Way to go kid!"

He froze. "I gotta tell Roy!" He tore towards his room. "The read through's on Thursday at 7, I gotta be there."

"Looks like we're theater parents." Carol laughed slightly.

"He's going to do great." Hal looked after the boy, hearing muffled shouts as he shared his news. "I'm so proud of him."

Dick laughed merrily. He was Charlie. He had done it.

"I did it RIGHT. I was good enough, I didn't fail. See Slade? I'm not worthless—I just gotta….Think positive!"

AN) Totally random. I'm Violet in Willy Wonka. Brad was my Papa in Fiddler on the Roof, Ron the director. I love you Papa! Do you want to see more Willy Wonka or theater adventures? Please leave an idea for a one-shot! Writers block AHHHH! On the bright side I've checked off 13 songs out of the 20 songs for marching band. Three more and I get a king sized candy bar, yummy. Peace!