Chandler's P.O.V
"Can we just read through it one more time?" Joey asks.
"You know it, you'll be fine," I hand him back his audition script, having just gone over some lines with him. He's trying for a part in a musical this afternoon - a proper musical, a good one for once. It's a version of Twelfth Night, and he's auditioning for the part of Sebastian.
"Ok," he sighs nervously, brushing a hand through his hair. I can't help but watch carefully as he does so; something is suddenly occurring to me. Joey always does that when he's stressed or under pressure. Not a single hair is pulled from his scalp though, so I don't worry too much.
We sit in silence for a few minutes as his eyes skim over the script yet again, his lips moving silently as he mouths the words, before he folds it up, stuffs it in his pocket and stands up.
"Gonna go get ready," he mutters, heading to his room.
"Joe?"
"Yeah?"
"You're really good. Honestly. I think you've got a great chance of getting it," I say.
"Thanks," Joey mutters, smiling but not quite meeting my eyes, before returning to his room.
As I reach for the remote and flick the TV on, I can't help but grin to myself. I didn't want to say this and get his hopes too high, but I'm absolutely convinced he'll get it (and even if he doesn't get Sebastian, he'll still get a major part). It'll be great for him - he'll be doing something he loves, it'll get his confidence back up, get him smiling again. This makes me sound girly as heck but I've missed seeing my best friend smile. He hasn't smiled, not properly, in the last few weeks. And it hurts to see him like this.
But this well help.
Joey's P.O.V
"'Where is she? Where is my sister?'" I read the words from the script, mouthing them to myself as discreetly as possible, not wanting everyone on the bus to think I'm a freak. I finish the big speech, covering up my lines to check I know them, and when I look back at them I realise I've got it. I've learnt the whole thing off by heart. Weirdly enough, this knowledge doesn't seem to calm my nerves at all.
Don't pull. Don't pull. Don't pull.
It literally drains all the energy I have not to tear every hair from my head. But I don't. I need to look somewhere near presentable for this audition.
A few minutes later, I'm at the theatre, being directed to a waiting room by a member of staff. I sit down on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs... and wait. God, I hate this part of auditions. The waiting. It sucks.
"This seat taken?"
I look up and see a tall, blonde guy standing in front of me, waiting for an answer.
"Nope, go ahead," I reply, gesturing for him to sit down. He introduces himself as Tony and offers his hand to shake. It's then that I realise my hand is still at my hair, gently tugging - I remove it hastily and shake Tony's hand.
"So, you auditioning for Sebastian as well?" he asks.
"Yep," I nod. "I really hope I get it. I haven't done that many proper musicals before. Have you?"
"A few, mostly broadway. I did a lot of stage coaching when I was younger," says Tony.
Oh God. He's much more experienced than me. But I decide to use this to my advantage.
"Got any advice?" I ask hopefully.
We talk for twenty minutes as he gives me a few pointers on stage acting. It's comforting having someone else there with me because having company means I don't pull so much.
Eventually, a young woman with red hair and a clipboard comes into the waiting room and calls: "Joey Tribbiani."
"That's me," I stand up, all nervous feelings suddenly rushing back.
"Good luck." Tony says, smiling genuinely.
"You too," I mumble, following the red-head to the main stage.