CH2

As I rounded the last corner, the number of people waiting in the hallway was unbelievable. There were people from all walks of life here hoping for the same chance as me to become a rising star. I knew there would be many people here, but I wasn’t expecting this amount of bodies! I wondered which of them were here to sing or to dance, or perhaps act.

Would they split us up into our various talents? Or would we just go in one by one and show off what we could do? While I was mulling over my thoughts, one of the staff members stepped up to me.

“Name?”

“Liam Smith,” I replied with a smile.

The staff member nodded and checked for my name on his list. On finding it, he nodded and ticked it off. “Very well, Mister Smith. We will call you in when it is your turn. Please wait here until then,” they said and moved onto the next person who had shown up.

The waiting seemed like it would take forever and they would never get to me.

“Mister Smith?” A voice called, startling me from my bored stupor.

“Y-Yes! Here!” I called out, which caused several of the others waiting in the hall to laugh at my sudden outburst. I felt my cheeks burning from my embarrassment and let out a nervous laugh as I moved over to the staff member, rubbing my neck awkwardly.

As the staff member leads me into the interview room, I take note of a few people sitting down. They are sitting in front of the stage that is used for those of us showing off our skills. Most of them look like the typical business person. Smart shirt, black trousers and shoes and ties. The last person, however, wore sunglasses and a hat that covered most of his head.

He looked slightly out of place and it had me wondering if he was who I thought it was.

The thought that this man was Kain Jones had my stomach all fluttery.

“Mister Smith?” One woman asked as she spotted me.

I nodded in agreement. “Yes,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking with nerves.

The woman looked down at the sheet on her desk and asked, “it says here you wish to be an actor, though you have had some training with singing?”

With another nod, I replied, “that’s right.” I wondered which talent they would prefer me to show off. I hadn’t come from any rich background, which would have given me the best training, but the schools I went to had their own classes that I took full advantage of.

The small group of people whispered to one another before the man in the hat whispered to the woman next to him. She nodded and then turned to me and said, “then why don’t you incorporate both into what you wish to show us?”

Adding both together? That wasn’t an impossible request, but it wasn’t something I had quite prepared for. Still, I had to impress them so I quickly thought up something on the top of my head.

Taking the centre of the stage, I took a quiet but deep breath in, as I had learned to do many times during practice. Then, with a clear voice, I spoke out some lines, “if there is a story to be told, why should I not be the one to tell it? Do we all not have that choice to tell our own tales?”

With another soundless breath of air, I changed the tone of my voice to mimic a different person, saying, “you always do this, brother! You let yourself think everything will be fine if only you can make it to a certain place or do a certain thing, but life is never that simple! You go into those woods and you won’t come back out again! The legends-”

I cut myself off, changing my voice back to the previous one, my tone annoyed as I say, “I’m aware. I know the song as well as you do.”

With one more soundless breath in, I sing, “in the darkness, the wolf wakes. To a numbed heart of ice, the wolf takes. With you beside me, the wolf sleeps. On a starlit night, our wishes leap.”

I’m about to continue the second verse when the woman, with a smile, holds up her hand. The group seems somewhat impressed and although I didn’t finish the song; I pray I pass their trial.

“Thank you, Mister Smith,” the woman says and nods. “You may wait in the canteen and get something to drink or eat until we finish the rest of the interviews. When we’re ready to say who has passed the next stages, we will call you back here,” she said, motioning to the door on the other side of the room. “The lady through there will show you where to go.”

I dip my head in thanks to the people who are taking notes and offer a polite, “thank you.” I’m a little breathless, but I do my best not to show it to them. There’s no way that I want them thinking that I am not skilled enough to go through to the next stage.

I’m still nervous, but I doubt they’ll give away if I have passed their expectations or not and trying to ask might annoy them too much and they’ll not want to work with me. I only wish I could get some sort of hint that the one who I assume is the CEO; liked my performance but with those sunglasses, I get nothing helpful from him.

As the lady shows me the way to the canteen, she makes polite conversation with me, asking if I think I did well, and what I think of the company building so far. I answer her to be polite, but truthfully, my mind is still so focused on if I’ve passed the first trial or not.

When we reach the canteen, the woman returns to her post, wishing me luck as she goes. She’s probably said this to everyone so far, as part of her job to make people feel welcome. I don’t mind, it’s nice to see someone putting a lot of heart into their job.

I decide to settle my nerves with a hot chocolate and a sandwich, nothing too big just in case I have to do any more physical acting later but something that will keep my energy levels up in case I am here for most of the day.