Stage Fright (Bit Parts) Read Online Free

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    “Good night, Charles,” Andrew said.  He turned to Hedda.  “It was nice meeting you.”
    “I hope you’ll consider taking a role in 16 Voices ,” she said.  “You’d be a great inspiration to the playwright.”
    “Maybe.  But you should really let Cassie audition, too,” Andrew said.  “She’s terrific!  You should have seen her in King Lear at the Pinnacle last winter.”
    I gave him a grateful smile.  King Lear had been a lucky break.  I’d been the understudy for the role of Cordelia and had gotten the part when the actress initially cast had slipped on the ice and broken her ankle.  The run had been very short, only two weeks, but my performance had earned me several great reviews.
    Hedda frowned.  “I saw that show, but I don’t remember you.”
    “Cassie played Cordelia,” Charles said.  “You and Marcella both told me how much you enjoyed her performance.”
    Hedda continued to shake her head.  “No, this is not the same young woman.”
    “It is,” Andrew insisted.
    Hedda leaned in close, peering at me like I was a specimen in a jar.  I backed away, bumping into Andrew.  “Ah, yes,” she said.  “I suppose there is a little resemblance, but she’s changed since then.”  She treated me to another of her cunning smiles.  “You’ve lost your shine, haven’t you my dear?”
    I flushed.  I thought I’d been doing a pretty good job of hiding my mental issues, but Hedda’s expression told me that I didn’t fool her at all.
    “Such a pity that her talent has wasted away,” she told Charles.
    I gaped at her.  Wasted away?  What did she mean wasted away ?  Seeing my crestfallen expression, Andrew put his arm around my shoulders and guided me out of the parking lot.
     

Chapter Two
    Andrew was in such high spirits that he carried me piggyback most of the way to the bar.  For his sake, I acted happy, but inside I was a mess.  Forget hanging out at the Lamplighter.  I wanted to go home, bury under the covers, and pretend the night hadn’t happened.
    I hung on tighter when Andrew jogged past the Cipher Theater.  Well, what used to be the Cipher Theater.  The owners had pulled stakes and moved on months ago.  In fact, Streetcar had never made it to the stage.  Although the building sat in the middle of a Renaissance zone – a gentrified section of the city in which investors were dumping money – the place remained vacant.  Faded fliers promising the opening of Streetcar were still tacked to its doors.
    Andrew and I finally reached the bar and claimed the last empty table.  The Lamplighter was a narrow, windowless dive with walls yellowed from decades of cigarette smoke.  Its single nod to frivolity was a low-tech karaoke machine that slumped in one corner like a hard-drinking customer determined to stay until last call.
    Most of the cast and crew were already celebrating.  Andrew ordered a beer, and I went for a cosmopolitan which was sweet enough to make me like it, but not tasty enough to make me want more than two.
    In addition to everything else, the letdown of the final night’s performance weighed on me.  All around were conversations about auditions and call backs and other prospects.  Sarah, who had played the maid, was going on the road with a youth theater group, and David, aka Van Helsing, had a small part at the Gem.  In fact, almost everyone had found work.  Everyone, that is, but me.
     “Why so glum?” Andrew asked in his best Dracula voice.
    I shrugged.
    He dropped the Dracula routine.  “You’re not letting what Hedda Widderstrom said bother you?”
    I shrugged again.
    He squeezed my hand.  “C’mon, Cassie.  She’s a mental woman who thought County Dracula was world-class drama.  Don’t let her inside your head.”
    “I know, but…”
    “No buts!  You’re an amazing actress.”  He nudged me.  “What would you say to firing up the karaoke machine?”
    There was a time when I would have elbowed my way to the front