theatre kid eternally

Jordan could always tell when the person he was flirting with wasn’t used to that kind of attention and this guy was no different.  The way he stuttered over his words and his cheeks flushed made it clear he hadn’t been expecting Jordan’s comment. “You don’t think they are?” He asked, turning his head a little to the side and laughing softly at his next comment. “Of course it matters. Just because I got distracted by how cute you are doesn’t make what you have to say less important.” He glanced back up at the other man across the table and paused a moment. “I’m Jordan by the way.”

It’s not that Rory wasn’t confident. He had his moments. It’s just that most of those moments existed when he was on stage, in character, under the lights. When he found his way offstage, living life in the real world, it was a little bit harder. “Never thought of them as anything special.” He grinned, looking down for a moment, before looking back up. “My droning on and on about theatre could literally happen at any other moment. If you think I’m cute, I think we should talk about that instead.” He smoothed out some of his curls, a slight blush on his cheeks. “Pleasure to meet ya, Jordan. I’m Rory. Rory Shapiro.”

Sophia didn’t typically visit the shop at this time of day, she was well aware of how busy it got during the lunch hour with hoards of people desperate for their midday caffeine fix. But she was hankering for a hazelnut latte - triple espresso shot - after a long morning in the studio. She waited patiently in the pick up area until her order was called, casting a shy smile of thanks at the employee behind the counter. Her nose wrinkled in distaste at the steadily thickening crowd which immediately eradicated any intentions she had to find a seat. Besides, the recluse in her wanted nothing much to be in the comfort of her own home. With a level of grace afforded to someone who spent the majority of their time flitting across a stage she maneuvered through the crowd, her gaze set on the exit. But suddenly something caught her attention. She glanced over at the dark haired boy, his words rattling something in her memory and making her pause in thought. She almost didn’t realize he was addressing her. “Oh, I wasn’t…” she trailed off, debating making a hasty retreat but feeling it would be impolite to decline. “Sure, thanks?” she carefully lowered herself into the chair across from him, placing her to go cup on the table. “King Lear” she suddenly stated, an unintentional smile pulling her lips upward as his words finally connected in her brain. She wondered why he was reciting Shakespeare in the middle of a crowded cafe. 

There were days were Rory barely had any time to breathe. Long rehearsals, hours upon hours, stacked up in the studio. But today, thankfully, was not one of those days. Today was one of those very illusive, very special miracles…. the kind with no rehearsal. Sure, he loved his work, more than he could love anything else in the world, but still. Having a bit of a break, and the chance to see some daylight? He treasured those times. Of course, today was one of the hottest of the year, which meant everyone needed their iced drink fixes. The additional Air Con in the coffee shop? Well that didn’t hurt either. He didn’t mean to take up the stranger’s time, but he wanted to do a good deed by offering up the partnering seat. But she sat down anyhow, and he smiled. “Yes! I’m in a production, and memorizing lines. Which might seem a bit strange, but I like learning with ample distractions. Means I focus in a lot more.”

Ike snorted, breaking into something of a laugh. “Oh, you don’t have to tell me twice. I think he would hate me. He’d sit there, and he’d say, Ike, you need to think of something very traumatic from your childhood and feel it. And I’d have to say, Uncle Konstantin, look, I turned my emotions off years ago. We’re up shit’s creek. But, please don’t tell Chekhov. He’ll be mad.” He laughed more heartily. “Hey, you’re right. You’re out there doing it. Which is more than a lot of people can say. And doing it successfully too. I figure all you need is the toolkit that works for you, and I imagine you have that. But I’ll be the first to admit: I love an actor who wonders why he should say something. You want to come up to me and say, hey, this line is stupid as shit, cut it, I’ll be like, you’re right. It’s trash. Let’s get rid of it. It’s gone.” He shook his head, still smiling. “It’s all hot air. I just say whatever dumb thing pops into my head. Lucky dreidel, though, huh? Now, my grandmother would tell you that, sure, you could abuse that and get rich, but then no one would like you. It’s more about the joy of the game than the chocolate.” He clicked his tongue playfully. “It was all very confusing in my house. We did everything and nothing all at once. It’s almost like my parents didn’t want to raise me in one particular way. And so, when I do die, no precautions have been taken.” He grinned. “Oh, absolutely. I’ll be very honest, though. I always get the Ed’s mixed up in that play. I’ll just root for whatever one you are. How’s it going?” 

Even Ike’s laughter was a pleasing sound. Rory didn’t know what to do with that thought, but he knew he wanted to make Ike laugh more, just to hear it again. “I just think… if you need to dredge up personal trauma every time you have to play something serious on stage.. that’s a pretty fuckin’ miserable life, huh? Like… I get the act of getting immersed in your character… and really feeling their pain. But if I have to feel my pain, deeply and fully to get there? That’s… cruel and unusual punishment. Couldn’t be me.” There was that laugh again. Rory sighed, content. “I haven’t had much of the pleasure of working with playwrights, I have to admit. I mean in college, a little bit. But all of my professional work has been with ol’ William Shakespeare, and sometimes I think that man would be rolling around in his shallow grave, if he could see me now. Would be a dream to work with someone like you, though. I’d feel a different command of my character.” He grinned, a smirk gracing his lips. “I’m competitive, deep down. Could never want to give up my winning streak. And hey! I’m the nice Jewish boy who hasn’t been to synagogue since he was Bar Mitzvahed, so I can’t really be safe, either.” Another sip of his coffee, with eyes crinkling at the sides. “Edgar’s a hard one. Most think of his bastard brother, Edmund, with his whole Machiavellian complex, and all that. Edgar’s a bit more simplistic… yet he’s a brilliant supporting role. I’m deeply lucky… and the cast is dynamite. I’m way too lucky to be working like this.”

“I’m sorry, I was totally listening to what you were saying but then I got distracted by how freaking beautiful your eyes are and now I can’t remember what we were talking about.”  Jordan shook his head and smiled at the person across from him, folding his arms over his chest and cocking his head to the side just slightly. He should probably quit flirting with anyone and everyone but when Jordan saw someone he was attracted to it was just a reaction. “Tell me again?”

Rory was speaking on the complexities of costume changes, though now he hardly knew why. And now Jordan was complimenting his eyes, which really kind of set Rory ablaze. “You-… you think my eyes are beautiful?” Jordan had such a nice smile, and Rory hardly knew why his own eyes were the ones complimented, when he could easily lose himself in Jordan’s. “Oh god, nothing I was going to say even matters now.”

“Tsk, tsk. Stanislavski’s going to get you, pal. What’s this being someone else nonsense? I thought we were supposed to apply ourselves to the imagined reality of the play. Something something affective memory, sad, sad, sad.” Ike sighed deeply. He was not an actor, but he’d had to weather one course and certainly knew enough performers to make fun of the various techniques. Still, he managed a sideways smirk in Rory’s direction. “Theatre stumbled into my life because I was pissed off about my mom’s ugly bathroom wallpaper. That’s the whole story. There’s your quote. She had ugly pink, palm-leaf wallpaper in the bathroom, and it made me mad. So I wrote all about it, so everyone else could be mad about it too.” He sniffed, nursing his own coffee and giving a shake of his head. “The yearly dreidel is tradition, Rory. People collect them,” he added. “You know, my dad’s family’s Roman Catholic, so they just gave me a Hess truck every Christmas. As if I’ve ever played with a toy car in my life. What do you do with a toy car? Drive around?” He leaned backward, letting out a low groan. “If you want to come to the show, let me know. I can get you comped. If I make any money on this, it means I’m not an artist.”

“Oh god, don’t talk to me about Stan the man.” He grinned, shaking his head. “NYU already made me feel like shit over and over for not understanding his theory and putting it to practice… but look at me! I’m a working actor! So what if I’m not doing it the way I’m “supposed to”. What the fuck is the right way, anyways? It’s acting! So long as I am in debt of the audience, and directors and playwrights and fellow actors and such, I’m doing my job, aren’t I?” He took another sip of that ice coffee, savoring the taste. “The way you word things is exceptional, Ike. Truly. You astound me. And as for dreidels? I understand collecting menorahs. But I’ve got my lucky dreidel! I don’t need more than that. It always ensures my win.. why would I waste using another one for a worse fate? Still, might be better than toy cars. I always got striped sweaters for Christmas. We’re fully Jewish, but my mom still loves Christmas traditions. The tree, the cookies, the music, the whole shebang! Though we still got chinese food and went to the movies on Christmas night, as any Jew should.” He grinned. “I’d love to… but only if you’ll use one of my comps for King Lear. I’m playing Edgar.”

“I really never know what to say to reporters, man.” Ike gave a low, irritated sigh, running a flustered hand along his face and shoving some hair from his forehead. He paused to shove a gummy bear into his mouth before offering the open bag. “They always ask shit, like, ‘How did you get started? What’s your inspiration?’ And, I just, I don’t know. They want you to go on and on about some teacher that touched your soul, or how you’re very sad about your grandma or some shit. But it’s all an accident, you know? Things just fuckin’ happen. No rhyme or reason or nothing. The real world ain’t like that. Decisions don’t always make narrative sense. People do things just ‘cause.” He huffed a little, trailing off. “I have to email this guy back and make people come see the play. What do I tell ‘em? Should I make up a grandma? Mine was a real piece of work. Gave me a savings bond every Hanukkah. I don’t even know what those are for. Plus, she used to tell me a walrus lived in her tub so I wouldn’t use her good bathroom. Years and years of tusk-themed night terrors, I tell you. Not enough therapy.” @chicagcstart​

Rory was a huge fan of Ike. He wasn’t going to readily admit that, but… he couldn’t help himself. Maybe it was because they were both alumnus of NYU’s theatre department. Sure, they were quite a few years apart, and not even the same major, but it didn’t really matter. Maybe it was because Polyester Bloodbath was one of the best shows he had come across. Maybe it was also because he thought Ike was cute… but that was really beside the point. He sat with an ice coffee, cocking his head to the side, as he listened, ardently. “Look, I know what you mean. I became an actor, ‘cause I liked being other people. People always think it’s deeper than that, but I hate to say that it isn’t. Theatre just stumbles into some peoples’ lives. Without question or purpose… just, because.” He smiled, nodding his head. “Sounds like a Jewish grandmother for you. Mine always got me books on Greek mythology, a pair of socks and a new dreidel. As though I needed multiple dreidels?”

King Lear… Shakespeare. They sounded familiar enough, Shakespeare more than anything. His brain working quickly to try and place it all. Something about plays… and books? “Ah, that’s really cool.” James said, a still slightly confused look on his face. Not being able to place things that sounded so familiar had to be one of the hardest things for him. He knew he knew them, just couldn’t figure out why exactly… With a shake of his head, James took another sip at his hot coffee. “I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t part of the reason why I stopped in a coffee.” He laughed, a slight raise of his eyebrows. Though he once more focused on the man across from him. “You’re good at remembering and I’m not at all.” Once more he paused, hands still wrapped around his coffee. “I was in an accident in the army last year-” James started slowly. “Ended up with a traumatic brain injury and as luck would have it, it affects my memory and remembering mostly.” He explained, another light shrug of his shoulders. “So there’s no way I could be an actor.” A soft chuckle leaving from him. “But I do appreciate theatre a lot. Especially-” A tilt of his head. “The plays with music. Those are pretty easy for me to follow. I might forget a lot but if there’s one thing I understand and remember it’s music. So I tend to lean towards those more than regular plays.” 

The poor man still looked confused, but Rory only smiled. That didn’t bother him one bit. Most people stopped listening to him when he spoke about Shakespeare, so he could always deal with a little bit of disconnect. It was certainly better than disinterest. He took another sip of his drink, savoring the taste. He used to work as a barista, back in college. He was happier now to be enjoying the drinks, rather than having to make them for deeply frustrated and, at times frustrating customers. “Air con works wonders. I’ve got it in my apartment but the bill is so astronomical, that sometimes it’s nicer to turn it off, and pay for a coffee and sit here. Still money… but in a different way.” Rory shifted back in his seat, listening to the man tell his story. “Gosh, I’m so sorry man. I suppose, first off, thank you for your service. I can’t even… I can’t even imagine. I think the closest I could even come to it would be acting it out on stage… fuck.” He smiled. “You’re far more brave than I could ever be. But musicals, eh? They’re great. Unfortunately, I’m not the best singer. And I’m extremely lanky and not the most graceful, so I mostly stick to the plays, but I love a musical. Kinda wish, sometimes, that I could make it in one of those.”

Hunter leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table, smiling at Rory. “Okay, give me some grace here because I’m from a small Texas town and all, but that’s by Shakespeare, right? I feel like I remember hearing about it but I don’t think we read it or anything. I was a science geek in college. Is that a big part?”

He nodded, a smile upon his lips. “No worries! You’d be correct with that guess. One of his best, in my opinion. But I’m deeply biased, because I’ve been known to be a bit of a Shakespeare nut. Edgar is... a great role. He has such a deep complexity to him, and a really killer arc. Plus, he’s in disguise for a lot of the show. He’s by no means the main character, but a really strong supporting role, and I feel insanely lucky to have a crack at him.”

Christian laughed. “You don’t want to step out of your comfort zone?” He was just teasing- he would never make Rory act in one of the worst musicals ever. “I would love to… redo the costumes for like. Cats or Starlight Express or some other weird musical. How much fun would that be?” He sipped his coffee, grinning. “I will! Obviously I will. I have to come.” Christian wouldn’t miss it for the world. He always loved seeing Rory perform. “I don’t know much about Shakespeare, hon, but I believe you. I know you’re amazing without even having to see it.”

“Hey! I take a lotta risks on stage. I force myself out of my comfort zone each time I’m up there. But dancing? God. No one wants to see me try.” His eyes crinkled as he grinned. Maybe if Christian asked him to dance, he might try it. Maybe. “I need to see you do the costumes for Cats. That would be the only redeeming quality. Or Bat Boy! Your costumes for Bat Boy would be wild and incredible and I’d certainly pay to see that.” He smiled, taking another sip of coffee. “Don’t gotta know much about the Bard to appreciate the work. We can’t all love his stuff feverishly, the way I seem to, but the cast... god. I’m barely a standout in this one. Edgar has always been a dream role so I feel deeply lucky, but our Fool? She’s one for the ages.”

“Already got the part…?” James tilted his head some as he looked across the table of the other. Trying to piece things together- though it was all coming a bit slowly to him. The part… memorizing something… Finally his face lit up with recognition. “Oh, are you an actor?” James asked, hands wrapped around his drink, a little bit of pride that he was manage to put a few things together to remember something else. Maybe today was a good day memory wise for him. At the other’s comment about the place being packed, he nodded. “Yeah- it really is. I don’t think it’s usually this busy. Thanks for letting me have a seat-” James paused, making a face. “Or did I already say that? Sorry- I have trouble remembering things.” He explained quickly before taking a sip of his coffee finally.

He looked confused, but Rory didn’t mind it. A lot of people didn’t think too much about theatre. Certainly not as much as he did, and so... people weren’t as receptive when it came to his droning on and on about his line of work. But then he pieced it together, and Rory smiled, with a light nod. “Indeed I am! I just got cast as Edgar in a production of King Lear. I’m a total Shakespeare nerd. Can’t help myself.” He took another sip of his coffee, relishing the slight burn. “I think people are trying to beat the heat, really. It’s a scorcher. Anything for free AC, you know?” He grinned, a crinkle next to his eyes. “No worries. Memorization is like.. my job, so I’m maybe too good at that? But there are a lot of areas in which I do not excel - you definitely don’t have to apologize.” 

He laughed. “I’m pretty sure if you do good enough stunts on roller-skates, they’ll cast you in Starlight Express regardless of your singing talents. They can dub you over or something. It’s all about the spectacle of it.” He grinned, taking a sip of his coffee. “Mm, of course you could rock roller-skates, cmon, what kind of question is that?” He perked up at the mention of the part. “That’s amazing! And you know I know barely anything about Shakespeare besides him copying his shit from everyone else, but I’m sure you’ll look fantastic in those medieval garments, huh? I’ll have to find the costume designer working on it, make sure they put you in the right colors.” He teased. 

“Well, I think the hopes and dreams of my shining debut in Starlight Express are probably dashed, then. I’m a clumsy guy, and I’d end up having the stunts wipe me out.” He grinned, a shake of his head. He’d stick to the plays, but Christian knew that. Rory knew he was far too awkward to make it in the world of musical theatre, but it was fun to imagine it, occasionally. “Okay, so the bard himself might not have had much of an original thought… but the legacy that has lasted through “his” plays is… delicious. When you see good productions, that is. You have to come see us! The team is already so good.. and… when I get to play Poor Tom.. when Edgar’s disguised. It’s fuckin’ brilliant. This is like.. the part I was born to play, I swear it.”

Hunter had almost not noticed Rory, but hearing that voice doing what could only be reading lines from some play put it all together in her mind. “I was hoping you’d offer,” she replied with a smile, sliding into the chair across from her friend. They were a little bit of an odd pair, bumping into each other at record stores time after time until they finally struck up conversation. They shared a love for old records and baseball: a combination that was unique and rare in it’s own way. “What are you working on now?”

He grinned, setting the play down. Hunter was a good friend, and seeing her always felt like a ray of sunshine, on a cloudy day. She was a welcome addition to his mid-afternoon memorization session. The buzz of the shop around them hummed, but he didn’t pay attention to it, rather focusing in on Hunter. Others might not understand the friendship between them, but common loves made the perfect of pairs, and though he was a diehard Yankee fan, he could even accept her love for the Cubs. “Just got cast as Edgar in King Lear. I’m beyond excited for this one.”

“Would’ve been kinda shit, all things considered.” She took a deep breath and settled into her seat, then began sorting through the collection of items that were previously ready to spill out of her arms. “Right? I can’t work at home. Spent a ton of money on a nice home office and all I ever end up doing is sitting at my desk for a few minutes before I end up on the couch with a snack and the remote in my hands. No Netflix here. And the coffee’s better.”

Rory grinned, a knowing look in his eyes. “Don’t I know it. I’m never able to get any memorization done at home. I always end up in front of my mirror, reading back the lines to myself over and over. And then I feel.. kind of lonely, and very insane. So… even when I’m parroting the words here in public, people might stare… but they usually let me be. And people watching is the best type of distraction, especially for actors.” He smiled, taking a sip of his coffee. “What are you working on?”

James was making his way through the crowd of people, trying to find somewhere to sit, not wanting to make his way out to the hot and busy streets just yet. But it seemed like all the tables were taken and he frowned deeply, brow knitting as he heard the guy next to him mutter something. For a second James paid him no attention until he seemed to be speaking to him. “Oh, are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt if you’re busy with something? Especially memorizing whatever it is that you are?” James rambled, though he knew that he might not get another offer to sit down somewhere. So with a last look at him, James sat down in the free chair, sitting his drink on the table. “Thanks- I really appreciate it.”

Rory didn’t mind the company of strangers. As an actor, strangers actually intrigued him. A lot of the time, he’d come to coffee shops to work, just so that he could have ample time and room to people watch. Sometimes he’d bring the mannerisms of others, workshop them into characters, just to add another layer of texture to make them more… real. More authentic. And he was outgoing to boot so… having a stranger sit with him? Easy. “Nah man, it’s totally fine. I’m not on a time crunch anyways, I’m just… starting it out. I’ve already got the part, so it’s no pressure.” He smiled, another sip of his hot coffee. A weird penchant, in the summer months. “‘Course man. This place is packed, eh? I’m surprised I even got a table.”

Christian raised eyebrows at him as he sunk across from him in the other seat, setting his own iced coffee down. Today was an ‘eh’ day, so he had his cane with him just in case. But he was in good spirits (as always). “Tryin’ to scare people away?” He teased. “Well as a 40 year old theatre gay, it’ll take a bit more than you talking to yourself to get me to leave. Unless you start singing Starlight Express or something. Then I’m running out of here. Though roller-skates definitely can look pretty good, depending on the person…” He laughed. “Is it for a part, or an audition?”

Rory was happy that Christian had found him in the coffee shop, as busy as it was. Especially when he was in memorization mode, having others who understood made a total difference. Plus, Christian was rather pretty to look out. Rory wouldn’t complain at all. “Hey, if a little Shakespeare won’t scare ‘em away, I really don’t know what will.” He grinned, the crinkles present next to his eyes. “As a 24 year old theatre gay, I appreciate that quite a bit. And you know I don’t do musicals, so you are in no danger of my belting out at Andrew Lloyd Webber any time soon.” He chuckled. “Well... do you think roller-skates would look good on me? ‘Cause if so, I might have to reconsider. And yes! A part! Got cast as Edgar in CST’s King Lear, and I am way too excited for this one.”

Nicolette didn’t like crowds. She didn’t like the feeling of eyes looking at her standing, searching, desperate to find a seat so she wouldn’t stick out like a sore blonde thumb struggling to keep her grasp on her ipad, sketchbooks, and the cold brew she’d just ordered. “Oh?” Her head snapped around, green eyes eventually meeting those of the stranger in the booth in front of her. “Oh my god, you’re the sweetest.” She quickly moved to the table, letting go of the books first, letting them topple onto the surface before she set her ipad on top and slid into the seat. “Didn’t know how much longer I could hold on to all of that. You’re my savior.”

Rory’s eyes crinkled as he looked up at the stranger. She looked rather put off by the crowd, and he was feeling extra outgoing at the moment. He was lucky enough to get a table, and considering there was an empty chair sitting there, it made total sense to let her sit there, allowing her the ability to seek refuge from the rest of the room. “’Course. If I hadn’t managed to find a seat, I’d probably leave here, ‘real dejected. There’s no better place to get some work done than a coffee shop.”

Micah steadied himself before he looked over the male to make sure he was okay before he nodded his head. “Good, wouldn’t want to hurt you.” Micah said as he shifted back and shoved his hands into his pockets. He allowed a half-smile make it’s way to his lips as he looked up at the book shelves. “Yeah, know I get. It’s easy to get lost or distracted here. I can spend hours here.”

Rory smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his thick curls. He blushed just a touch, looking back over at the rows and rows of books. “Sometimes when I have a day without rehearsals, I’ll come hear and camp out for hours. Just... reading whatever catches the eye. Though I gotta admit, I spend a lot of my time with the plays. But I suppose that’s the life I chose.” He grinned. “What were you gonna read?”