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cabaretcal · 5 years

Text

can we be seventeen?

It is finally time. Broadway!Michael. Heathers. Best friends to lovers. U know how we do. sorry I’m on mobile and can’t do the read more feature 😔

4k words

—

High School was the time of your life. You spent everyday after school with your best friend in the theatre. You two had many starring roles together, such as Tracy and Link in Hairspray, Sally Bowles and Cliff Bradshaw from Cabaret, and so many more. You two decided you both wanted to take on broadway. That being said, you bought an apartment together- a tiny one that is- in New York City. It was your 2nd month in New York. You loved it more than anything, but you were a starving artist. You had a few commercial roles and did some work in some short films, but you wanted to be on stage. You wanted people applauding you every night. You both wanted that.

But it’s hard to get on broadway. Broadway isn’t something easy to achieve.

The door to your apartment opened and interrupted your thoughts.

“Y/N! The restaurant was super busy today, so I think I got enough tip money to get the WiFi back on.” Michael walked through the door, car keys in hand, wearing a white button shirt with a black tie, along with black dress pants. Michael worked at a fancy Italian restaurant in the heart of New York City that only rich people can afford. He absolutely hated working there. It was far from his dream, but they had to pay the bills somehow. You worked at a coffee house yourself, and most of the time your money went towards bills and necessities only. And people hardly ever tip.

“Thank God! I’ve missed Netflix so much.” He laughed and you grinned, collapsing beside him on the couch. Michael was a great roommate. He always paid his share of everything, and he kept the living area clean. His room is another story, but at least you didn’t have to always see his room.

“I found our next audition! I forgot to tell you, when I was driving to work I saw that Heathers is currently being casted for broadway!”

You sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder, “I’m beginning to think we should’ve stayed home, it’s so hard to make it out here in New York…”

He scoffed, looking at you in your eyes, “Is my best friend, Y/N L/N, the one who forced me to audition for Oklahoma our freshman year, giving up? Come on now, that’s not the Y/N I know! Come on, auditions are tomorrow morning, it’s worth a shot.”

You pondered for a moment, thinking of the possibilities. This is what you came to New York for, after all. Maybe it was worth a shot.

“Fine, we’ll go. Just don’t get your hopes up…”

“I won’t, I promise. Now… I assume we’re having ramen again?”

“You know it.”

—

You sat beside Michael and looked around at who was at the audition. You could already tell that type casting would come into play, which made you nervous. You weren’t sure if you fit into any of these roles. What if you were wasting your time? You’d be lucky if you got to be a chorus member. Michael looked up from the paperwork as if he could sense how nervous you were.

“Relax, Y/N. You’ve been this way since High School! I remember auditions for Hairspray; you nearly had a panic attack the day of callbacks. And you rocked it! What are you scared of?”

“Failure, Michael.” You frowned and looked at him. He sighed, looking into your eyes.

“My best friend has never been a failure. Don’t even begin to think you’re a failure! Every good actor and actress struggled before succeeding.” He gave you a reassuring smile, and weight lifted off of your shoulders. Maybe he was right. In fact, he was right. You have to fall before you fly sometimes.

“Thank you, Michael.” You smiled as he smiled back at you. You wouldn’t wanna be struggling with anyone else.

A woman who seemed to be the director interrupted your thoughts, “Good morning everyone, welcome to the audition for Heathers. Shall we begin?” Everyone silently nodded, and the director cleared her throat, “the numbers my assistant gave to you when you walked in will now come into play… let’s start with #1. Come on up.”

You froze. You were #1. No pressure, right? You got up from your seat and walked up onto the stage, ready to perform the provided audition material. All of the girls were using audition material for the part of Veronica, the lead female part. No pressure.

You introduced yourself briefly and began, projecting with purpose, “My parents wanted to move me into high school out of the sixth grade, but we decided to chuck the idea because I’d have trouble making friends, blah, blah, blah. Now blah, blah, blah is all I ever do. I use my grand IQ to decide what color lip gloss to wear in the morning and how to hit three keggers before curfew… Betty Finn was a true friend and I sold her out for a bunch of Swatch dogs and Diet Coke heads. Killing Heather would be like offing the wicked witch of the west… wait east. West! God! I sound like a fucking psycho….Dear Diary: Heather told me she teaches people “real life.” She said, real life sucks losers dry. You want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly. I said, so, you teach people how to spread their wings and fly? She said, yes. I said, you’re beautiful.”

You emphasized certain things and changed tone when you felt it was needed. You wanted this so bad. But this wasn’t it! This was a musical, so you had to sing. You looked at the music provided for you and cued the piano player to begin playing. The song you were told to sing was “Fight For Me”. You sang each note with purpose. You wanted this more than anything. Before you knew it, you were done with your audition, and you sat back down in the audience beside Michael. He mouthed ‘good job’ to you, smiling. Before he knew it, it was his turn to audition.

The men auditioning read material for JD, the leading male part. You looked over what Michael had to perform, and the monologue was quite intense.

He cleared his throat and began with an intense tone of voice, “Can't believe you did it! I was teasing. I loved you! Sure, I was coming up here to kill you... First I was gonna try and get you back with my amazing petition. It's a shame you can't see what our fellow students really signed. Listen ‘We, students at Westerburg High will die. Today. Our buring bodies will be the ultimate protest to a society that degrades us. Fuck you all!’ It's not very subtle, but neither is blowing up a whole school, now is it? Talk about your suicide pacts, eh? When our school blows up tomorrow, it's gonna be the kind of thing that affects a whole generation! It'll be the Woodstock for the 80's! Damn it Veronica! We could have roasted marshmallows together!”

He was so talented. You would be damned if he didn’t get a role in this production. He then finished out his audition with the song “Meant To Be Yours”. He did amazing. He always put his all into his auditions. You were proud to be his friend. He walked off stage after he finished, and you both left.

—

As each day passed you absolutely could not stop thinking about callbacks. You were so anxious about whether you were gonna get one or not. You at least hoped Michael would get one so he could live out his dream if you couldn’t.

With each latte you made at work all that was on your mind was the possibility of getting a callback. At one point, you couldn’t even remember how to make an iced americano. They said they’d call you no matter what to let you know, which made you even more anxious. And everyday Michael came home from work all he talked about was callbacks and how bad he wanted this opportunity.

“I know you’ll make it, Michael. I mean come on, you’re extremely talented and you knocked that audition out of the park!”

“I did mediocre at best! You’re the one who’s gonna make it. You’re gonna be amazing in that cast. I’d rather you get it than me.”

You laid your head on his shoulder, looking up into his eyes, “You mean that, Mikey?”

“Would I lie to you? No. I wouldn’t. You’re amazing.”

—

You ran into Michael’s room after your shift at the coffee shop, shaking him awake, “I just got a callback during my shift! I get another audition tomorrow!”

“I got one too! While you were gone! We got callbacks!”

You two jumped up onto Michael’s bed and jumped in celebration. You were unbelievably happy.

“Well you know what that means… it’s a special occasion!” Michael ran to the kitchen and you followed behind him. He pulled out the boxed wine from the cabinet and got the plastic wine glasses out too.

The boxed wine was a tradition in your friendship. When you were casted in Hairspray sophomore year, he got his older friend to get it for him. It was cheap and lasted a while, so it was his number one choice. After high school graduation he brought it to your house after your grad party. And when you moved into the apartment, you had Dominos and boxed wine. It had a special place in your heart.

You put some wine in your cup and clinked your glass with his. Maybe it was finally time.

“Now let’s get wine drunk at 2 in the afternoon, shall we?” He smirked at you and you couldn’t help but laugh, knowing damn well he was a lightweight. It was gonna be a long day. Michael got up and connected his phone to the Bluetooth speaker, playing one of his playlists and taking your free hand in his.

“Michael what the hell are you doing?”

“Dancing! Duh!” He downed his wine glass and spun you around, laughing loudly.

You shook your head, putting down your glass and joining him, despite your lack of dance ability.

“You are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only… how old are we again? Who knows!” Michael was so carefree, and seeing him have no care in the world always warmed your heart.

“Hey Michael?”

“Yeah Y/N?”

“I knew I moved to New York with the right person.

—

You and Michael woke up extremely early the next morning for callbacks. The callback went well in your opinion, and Michael seemed to feel good about his as well. But after your callback it was back to the minimum wage job with less than mediocre tips. You had to wait a whole week until you’d find out if the callback resulted in you getting a role. It was gonna be the longest week of your life. As everyday passed and you made countless lattes and iced coffees all you thought of was your callback. It invaded your mind at every second of the day. No callback had stressed you out as much as this one. This one wasn’t some high school production from back home. This could be your big break for crying out loud! This was the most stress you had ever felt in your life.

When the day finally came around you and Michael waited around the apartment with phone in hand all day. The phone call you two were about to get would decide your futures. You paced around the living room, unable to stand still. Finally, Michael’s phone was the first to ring. He immediately picked up, sitting on the couch while biting his nails nervously.

“Hello? Yes this is him… yes I would. Thanks so much… alright goodbye.” He hung up, a solemn look on his face. You felt like you already knew what he was gonna say.

He then broke out into a grin, hugging you, “You’re looking at broadways new Jason Dean!”

You smacked his chest, gasping, “how dare you worry me like that, Michael!” You laughed, returning his hug happily. Shortly after, your phone also rang.

You answered, with a shaky voice, “Hello? Yes this is she… okay, yes I would, okay… thank you, goodbye.”

You were shocked. You looked at Michael, eyes dilated and full of disbelief, “I got the part… I-I’m Veronica…”

“No way! I get to lead with my best friend? This is amazing! We did it!” He hugged you, lifting you off of the ground.

You felt larger than life. You finally got to live out your dream. You were absolutely thrilled.

—

The first rehearsal was mainly just line running and song singing without much blocking and a brief dance rehearsal. Broadway was quite a shell shock. Rehearsals were triple the length of high school rehearsals, and dances were taught by actual choreographers, not the schools dance team coach. It was extremely different. It worried you- what if you couldn’t handle it? As you read lines your mind was in a whirlwind, and Michael could tell.

The director told everyone to take a 15 minute break, and you immediately broke down into a rant of how stressed you were to Michael.

“What if I’m not good enough for this? I’ve gotten so many notes from the director on things to do differently and it’s only day 1! I just wanna be the best I can be, I’m not usually cast into this type of role! I’m never usually a cocky or sassy type of character, I’m not good enough for this-“

Michael interrupted you during your extremely long rant, “Y/N! You’re doing great, it’s literally the first day. Everyone’s getting a lot of notes. You are fine. You always get in your head in the first week of rehearsals. You’re so talented and you deserve this, just calm down. Come on, smell the flowers, blow out the candles. Smell the flowers, blow out the candles. You’ve got this! I wouldn’t wanna plot revenge with anybody else, Veronica.”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly. He always knew what to say in these situations.

“You’re not the only one getting notes ya know? You always panic, it worries me.” You frowned, you never meant to worry him. It was just the way you were. You were always hypercritical of yourself, and it got worse as you got older. It wasn’t all your fault though.

“You know why, Michael. My parents never came to any of the shows… I fought to please them, thinking maybe they’d come one of the nights of the show. They never did. They ruined my self esteem.” At that point you were just venting, and you felt bad after the realization. You quickly stopped talking, walking back on stage keeping your eyes glued to the floor.

The director loudly interrupted your thoughts with a loud clap, “Okay everyone, we’re gonna do the number for Meant To Be Yours, so get on up here, Michael.”

Michael quickly got up on the stage, flipping through his script to the right page. You had a few lines before he started singing, so you took your place behind the “closet door”.

Michael cleared his throat, putting on his angsty evil teen voice, “Knock! Knock! Sorry for coming in through the window. Dreadful etiquette, I know!” This part seemed to be written just for him. He was so good at being the odd guy.

You got out of your thoughts, replying with your line to his remark through the closet door set piece, “Get out of my house!”

Michael scoffed, jiggling the door knob and continuing on with the scene, “Hiding in the closet? Come on, unlock the door! Come out and get dressed, you’re my date to the pep rally tonight!” He then began singing the song, yelling through the door at certain parts. You had to admit, it felt like he was actually your psychotic boyfriend. He really knew what he was doing.

You were interrupted by him singing/yelling the next part of the song, “Veronica! Open the—open the door, please Veronica, open the door…” he finished the song, letting out an exasperated breath.

“So, um, any notes? To make it better…”

The director had a look of shock on her face, but good shock though. She looked at her notepad, and then looked up, “This is an amazing start, you’re making great character decisions. I think when you sing through the door you could act more desperate for her to come out, maybe beat on the door, not just yell through it. Maybe we could give you a prop? Like a gun? We’ll see. Other than that, it’s really great. Good job.”

Michael nodded, thanking her and walking down the stairs of the stage.

“Alright, y/n! We’re gonna do the opening scene, the dear diary one. Do what you think is right and I’ll give notes, as per usual. Alright?”

You nodded, sitting at the plastic table that would soon be a lunch table once the actual set was set up.

You mimed a notebook in front of you, taking a deep breath, “September 1st, 1989. Dear Diary:

I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone, but—here we are! First day of senior year! And uh... I look around at these kids that I've known all my life and I ask myself—what happened?” This then transitioned to you singing Beautiful. You only got through half of the song due to how much blocking was needed for this number in particular.

The director read off of her notes, “Alright, Y/N, so all I really have is that I want you to be more confident. I gave you this part for a reason, I believe in you. Just breathe, okay?”

You nodded, thanking her and walking off stage. You grabbed your bag and left to the subway with Michael.

“I told you you were doing good! You just need to believe in yourself, ya dingus.” He ruffled your hair and you blushed, nodding slowly.

“Michael, I think you’re the most talented person I know.”

“Well then you obviously haven’t met yourself.”

—

After what felt like a billion rehearsals, which was really just 2 months of rehearsals, costume day finally came! The best and worst day. A lot of things can go wrong. But a lot of the time, costume day is great.

You had one costume for the whole show, which you were secretly grateful for. Quick changes just stressed you out. Your costume was a grey pleated skirt that hit your mid thigh, blue knee high socks, a white blouse, and a blue blazer to go over the blouse. The director wanted everyone to be used to performing in their costumes, so you’d be rehearsing with them for the next 2 weeks until opening night.

Michael wore all black attire. His costume included a black t shirt, a black trench coat, black jeans, and clunky black boots. In all honesty, he did not look approachable. But at the same time, he intrigued you even more. With each rehearsal, you were thinking about Michael a lot more than usual, and in a different way than usual.

Were you attracted to your best friend?

Oh god. This could not be happening.

You knew way too much about him. His mother practically adopted you as her own. It would be so awkward if your feelings shined through. Your mind was racing, everything made sense.

When he would cup your cheek in one of your scenes and would immediately blush, when he would call you nicknames in your scenes and you broke into a huge grin, it was because you liked him as more than a friend.

“Y/N! How do ya like my costume?” Michael did a twirl and bowed, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Wow what a handsome teen psychopath you are, Michael.” He laughed, muttering a thank you.

“Um, you look nice in yours. Much less psycho looking, 10 out of 10.”

You laughed, twirling to show him the whole costume, “Why thank you, JD. How kind of you.”

He smiled at you, looking in your eyes for a little while.

He quickly got out of his trance, looking around awkwardly, “Um, well, let’s take our promotional photos then shall we?”

You nodded, following him to where the photographer was.

“We’re definitely getting drunk tonight, I need a breather.”

—

You and Michael were in the living room, playing Mario Kart on the Nintendo Switch whole drinking, you guessed it, boxed wine. You were both extremely drunk, laughing at every little thing.

“Did you seriously just hit me with a blue shell!?”

Michael laughed, “Sorry! I can't accept losing to you, princess.” His voice had a tinge of sarcasm, which was far from surprising.

You pouted, desperately trying to get your number one spot back. But to your defeat, Michael took your spot at the last minute and got first place.

“How dare you!”

He laughed as you tackled him on the couch, resulting in a slight spill of both of your glasses as the coffee table shook.

“Sorry babe, I won fair and square.” His tone had a slight bit of flirtiness to it. Blushing at the nickname, you got up and got yourself more to drink.

“Alright, I lost, what do you want your prize to be? I buy your lunch tomorrow? It’s done.”

“I don’t need anything… let’s just chill now, yeah?”

You nodded, sitting beside him on the couch and laying your head on his shoulder.

“Y/N, you know I wouldn’t wanna be anyone else’s costar, right?”

“Michael, you tell me that everyday.”

“Well, it’s true. God, I’m tired of pretending,” he sat up, looking you straight in the eyes, “I came with you to New York not just to pursue acting. I came here because I care about you more than anything. You make everyday a little better. I was in such a bad place before we met freshman year. I literally love you so much.”

“Yeah I love you too-“

“No Y/N! I’m in love with you! When we do our scenes together I can’t help but think about us being together! I can’t help but imagine me affectionately cupping your cheek and kissing you outside of the show. I can’t help that I actually think I’m meant to be yours! And no, this is not the alcohol talking. I’ve always felt this way. I felt this way when we were in every other show together! I want to shout from the rooftops that I love you!” He gripped your waist and kissed you deeply, pulling you onto his waist.

His kiss was intoxicating. You didn’t know how bad you wanted this. You finally realized that he was who you wanted all along.

“You may be set out to kill the whole school so we can be together, but I love you too, Michael.”

—

Opening night you were warming up in your dressing room when a knock came at your door. The stage manager gave you your 20 minute warning, while also handing you a large arrangement of roses.

“Who are these from? No one I know is coming to see me tonight…” You looked at the notecard that came with it, and it all made sense.

My dearest Veronica,

I’m glad I get to share the stage with raw talent tonight. And you I guess (Just kidding). Break a leg, and let’s fake some deaths tonight! I love you.

- JD

You never felt more in love.

—

Taglist!!

@i-calumhood @angelbabylu

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