I remember the exact moment I fell in love with her. It was a Friday night, there was a light drizzle coating the streets. I marvelled at her beauty, her elegance, and all at once i was hopelessly head-over-heels in love. The dancers flitted across the stage like poetry in motion, two of the performers held each other as they sang the last note of their duet in perfect harmony. As the last echoes of the song faded away, I found myself all teary-eyes and feeling as though my heart was about to burst out of my chest. That was the exact moment I fell in love with theatre.
No one knew about this secret passion, a teenage boy who cried when he watched performers dance and sing? I’d be publicly ridiculed. It gnawed at my insides every day, desperate to show itself. All I could do was let my fingers dance across the surface of my desk, playing imaginary music that only existed in my head. When it was time to apply for college, I nearly gave my parents a heart attack when I told them i wanted to go to a performing arts institution. They were shaken to the core by this seemingly sudden decision of mind, but they supported me nonetheless. This was when I knew that they could provide me a shoulder to cry on. I was accepted into the London School of Performing Arts, studying script writing and music arrangement. I always thought that I was different, artistic. But every single person there was amazingly gifted in their own fields, making me feel as insignificant as a little speck of dust floating around aimlessly in the universe. We had a performance night once every two moments, where the students had to showcase a piece of their own. The first performance night had me quacking in my boots. My music was so personal; playing it to the world would be like exposing myself. As I sat waiting for my turn, my insides turning to mush in anticipation, a girl with shocking red hair and eyes caked with kohl strutted on the stage like she owned the place. She sat on the piano chair, back erect and fingers posed over the keys, the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. And then I heard the most beautiful music I had ever heard. She has a unique, husky voice that melted perfectly with the piano accompaniment. Every trace of anxiety instantly melted away with the first chord, and I remembered why I was doing this in the first place. Music, and nothing else.
After the showcase was over, I stayed back in the auditorium, trying to work up the nerve to talk to the red headed girl. I sat there looking at my fingers, scolding myself for my wimpiness. When I looked up, I was staring directly into her heavily lined eyes. “Hi, I’m Raina.” She said, her eyes shining like the stars.
From there on, my days at the London School of Performing Arts just flew by. It was hard surviving there, scheming classmates doing everything they could to get to the top, pushing me deeper and deeper into my own self doubt. Raina was the only thing that kept me afloat. She was like a beacon of light when I was confused, guiding me with her insight. We worked together to create a play we would use as the final contribution to our graduation portfolio. We spent days in our room, working to the point where it almost drove us crazy to make sure we could finish it before the dateline. Slowly, it started to come together. Chords and melodies turned from thoughts to scores, from scores to the string of the orchestra. Raina was the lead actress in the play, hoping that this would get her some recognition from the talent scouts that were going to be scattered amongst the crowd. I remember opening night like it was yesterday, the anxiety backstage, Raina pacing to and fro, my fingernails bitten to a point of non-existence. The curtains parted as Raina stood alone on centre stage. The butterflies in my stomach were causing a whirlwind. The spotlight bounced off her skin, making her look like she was glowing. Her lips parted and a single note escaped, making the hairs on my arm rise. Even though I knew the song like the back of my hand, seeing and hearing her singing it on stage like that captivated me, my mind focused on only her and her voice, the emotion and heart of her vocals wrapping itself around me, stunning me speechless.
Before I knew it, the play was over. I heard the crowd rise to their feet in a standing ovation. I was pushed onto centre stage for the final curtain call, my knees turning to jelly as I took my final bow. I looked up to see a full auditorium of people applauding me, my work. I felt someone clasp my clammy hand; I raised my eyes to see Raina looking at me with the loveliest smile on her face, as she mouthed “we did it.”
After a while, most of the crowd had departed, leaving only a few scattered words in the air. I was smiling as I watched Raina jumping around, still high on the experience. I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned around to face a middle aged woman, surrounded by an air of confidence. She asked if she could talk to me in private. She led me to a secluded area backstage, and we stood there in silence for a few moments. Her hard eyes scrutinized me from head to toe and flashed me a perfect smile. She said “I heard you wrote the script and music for that” I nodded. “It wasn’t perfect, very rough around the edges in fact. Repetitive lyrics, predictable chords, corny one liners.” My fists clenched as I felt a puddle of dread pool up at the pit of my stomach. She eyed my expression with an amused look on her face, and gave a sudden burst of laughter. “but you’re not like the other idiots I’ve met. You’re edgy, different. I like you. My name is Christina LeRoux,” my eyes widened at the mentioned her name, the plays she wrote showed for twenty years, and were still going strong. “And I’m here asking you if you want to be my protégé.”
I don’t remember what my reply, but it was something along the lines of “yes, yes, oh my god, yes” she laughed again, and told me that she would call me by next week. The hallways seemed to spin as I walked down them, I couldn’t believe that this was happening to me. I stumbled to Raina, when I saw her talking to a tall man in an all black suit, wearing his sunglasses although he was indoors. He was speaking in hushed tones, though I caught the words “that was very impressive”, “you’re certainly a heart throb.”, “New York City” and “great opportunity”. The expression on Raina‘s face turned from curiosity, to pure joy. She raised her hand to her mouth and said “oh gosh, I don’t know what to say. It’s such short notice but... okay! Yes!” they shook hands, his big veiny ones cradling her small ones. When the man left, Raina stood there beaming at me, looking like she had just won the lottery. I saw tears glistening in her eyes as she took a deep breath and said “he offered me a role. It’s in New York. I’m leaving tomorrow”
I drove her to the airport the next morning. The dark circles under her green eyes didn’t dampen her spirit at all. She was over the moon, bubbling with excitement in anticipation of the adventures to come. When I told her about the job offer that Christina LeRoux had offered me, she hugged me with such enthusiasm that I almost collided with an old lady. She sat back in her seat, cheeks flushed, and her hair in a mess as she said under her breath “we’re on our way.”I have never seen her look lovelier. When it was time for her to board the plane, the moment I had been dreading was here, staring me in the face. She gave me one last hug, and all I could do was hold her, stroking her strawberry scented hair. I closed my eyes and told her “you’re going to be amazing”. She pulled back and gave my arm a squeeze, saying “I’m going to miss you so much. I’ll write every week. I promise.” And just like that, she was gone.
Raina didn’t write. Well, she did, once. About a month after she left. She apologised for not writing sooner, explaining that she was being pulled under by rehearsals and such. I didn’t reply her, and I doubt she noticed. I was struggling myself, working under Christina wasn’t easy, and I had to put my shoulder to the wheel to make sure I completed the tasks that I had been handed. It was draining work, but I was in my element. The days when we sat in during the rehearsals were heady days, indulging myself into the way the voices and the strings just seemed to melt together and warm me up from the insides. The music and the rehearsals were the best part of my job; the worst was probably the actors. Leggy models that were but skin and bones screamed at the sight of food, all the actors seemed to be packaged with a six-pack abdomen, forever admiring their own reflections in the mirror. All these egoistical performers made what should have been my dream job a living hell. While I was giving an arm and a leg to try and get one of my plays picked up, Raina was shooting to stardom. They play had been a hit, and Raina‘s voice and pretty dace helped her climb the ladder of success. I remember reading the newspaper one day, and seeing her face plastered on the front page, a write up about an upcoming play. She looked the same, long red hair, petite frame. But something was different. Her usually sparkling eyes looked dead on the paper, like all that was left was an empty shell of a person. I scrunched up the paper and threw it away.
And then it happened. One day when I was proofreading the scores with Christina, she turned to me and asked “have you written anything lately?”I was stunned speechless. The only time Christina talked to me was to give me orders, or to criticize me, and more often than not, both at the same time. I nodded yes, and brought one of my scripts to her. I sat there as I watched her flip through the pages of my hard work. After what seemed like a century, she looked up at me and said “this is rubbish, but I can make it perfect. Let’s do this.”
The next nine months were the craziest of my life. Christina was the creative director and I was the producer. I was finally here, producing an on Broadway production. I thought that working on my graduation piece was hard, this was about a million times worse. Trying to project my own ideas and visions of what I wanted the play to be was like trying to jam into a pencil sharpener – impossible. But I was all worth it to see my ideas come to life. The world would soon hear the music that had been trapped in my head for all these years. About three months into the production, we had casting calls. Hundreds of people auditioned, but I couldn’t see the main character in any of them. And I knew why, none of them were Raina. The rest of the cast had been chosen, but we couldn’t start rehearsals without the lead actress. After another round of exhausting and unsuccessful casting, I had my head in my hands and my heart in my boots. Christina leaned back in her seat and let out a low sign. She turned to me and said “Just call her” I looked up and said “what?” A small smile played on her tight lips as she said “just call her”
And I did.
My heart raced in my chest as the foreign ring tone beeped in my ears. She picked up the phone and said with an obviously rehearsed tone “hello?” I said “Hi, Raina” there was a silence on her part, static crackling in my ears. A barely audible voice whispered “Marc? Is that you?” I smiled and said “you never did write, Raina” She let out a shaky laugh “only because you didn’t write back”
And she was here, just one phone call and she was here. When I offered her the part, she immediately said yes. I asked “don’t you want to hear what the story is about?” I could hear the grin in her voice as she said “no, as long as you wrote it, it’s going to be amazing.” It was so good to see her again after two years. She looked different, her usually flowing hair was cropped short, and her makeup looked extremely professional. But she was still my Raina, with her wide smile and sparkling green eyes. The days after she arrived were a big, happy blur. We spent hours just talking and I had to constantly remind myself to stop staring at her. But I couldn’t help it; it just seemed so unreal to have her by my side again. Rehearsals started without a hitch, and as I watched the members of the cast slowly weaving the stray ends together, I saw my dreams coming true right before my eyes.
In a blink of an eye, opening night was here. Somehow, all the pieces of the puzzle assembled themselves together. As our limousine drew up to the red carpet, my eyes widened. There was a sea of people that had gathered to watch the premiere. Light bulbs flashed in my eyes, blinding me. The paparazzi swarmed us as we stepped out of the car. I squinted against the light, disorientated. I saw Raina flashing a well rehearsed smile towards the cameras; she was used to this kind of attention. Big groups of people whom I have never laid eyes on before came up to me to offer congratulations, hugs, and pats on the back. So this is what the world of theatre is like. I tore myself away from the crowd to go and see Raina one last time before the show started. She was sitting in front of her dresser, staring at her own reflection. She smiled when she saw me enter the room, taking my hand in hers as I sat down. We sat there, her head on my shoulder, looking at each other through the mirror, trying to imprint this moment in our memories forever.
So here I am, sitting in this pitch black auditorium. Hushed silences fall as a crescendo of strings rise from the pit of my heart. The curtains part to show Raina on stage and it’s like I’m exactly where I was two years ago, an awkward college kid, marvelling at his own work unveiling itself before his layered eyes. There’s a feeling of peace in my heart as Raina gives me a little smile. The first not starts and my heart soars as I stare at the two things I loved the most in this big, big world.
weiann
2011
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