“Little town, it’s a quiet village” and “I’m a believer”. The beginning line of my first musical, “Beauty and the Beast” and the last line of the musical I was a part of my senior year, “Shrek: The Musical”. I lived for everything in between.
My freshman year of high school, I decided that I was going to audition for the musical. I had spent years in elementary school and middle school watching high school students perform their annual spring show, I knew I just had to be a part of it. While on standby to go into the audition room, my stomach churned and the room just about starting spinning. A million thoughts rushed through my head, one after the other:
“Oh my gosh, I can’t do this.”
“What if I forget the words to the song?”
“I can’t belt to save my life, this style of music isn’t what I’m used to singing.”
“I’m a freshman, there’s no way I’ll make it.”
“All I’m going to do is make a fool of myself.”
“That's it, I’m not doing it,” I declared to my friend who was in line to audition behind me. “Sierra Paul,” the person running the audition called. By the time I could protest, I’d been shoved into the room, the door to the hallway closed. I froze. I was terrified.
A couple of days later at the dance call, we’d learned a short combination and were left to practice on our own. Having no dance experience, I was struggling to practice. To my right was a girl who looked like she knew was she was doing. “Hey, you look like you’ve got it down, could you please help me?” I asked politely, praying for someone to save me from complete and total public humiliation. “Sure!” she replied with a smile, introducing herself, “I’m Amelia.” Within no time I felt fairly confident I’d get most of it right when it came time to perform for our choreographer.
Long story short, I got cast in the ensemble and got picked for a short dance section in the song “Be Our Guest”, with my new best friend, Amelia. My drama teacher decided that we’d portray floral arrangements when we were castle pieces. My favorite part of the costume was definitely the huge floral headpiece we wore. It was so much fun. My first show made me fall in love with theatre. I knew I never wanted the feeling of being onstage to end.
Flash forward three years. Senior year. Looking around at all the terrified freshman, I reflected, remembering that feeling, assuring some who looked discouraged that they were going to do great. But this time, waiting in line, I felt confidant, although auditioning for the last time was bittersweet. “Hi Sierra,” my choir director greeted me with a smile as I walked into the room, planting my feet center-stage, shoulders back and head held high. I couldn’t believe I had auditioned for the last time after I said “Thank you” and left the room.
I guess we always believe things are infinite, until they’re not…
As we got through rehearsal, learning music and choreography, I knew this was the beginning of the end. All-calls became more commonplace. When we moved to the auditorium, I dreaded the fact that time was going to win, and nostalgia would be all I had left of my high school musical career very soon. Then we got costume and makeup and hair and rehearsals and cue-to-cue turned into dress rehearsals. Before I knew it, it was show week. Six shows was all that was left. Then five. Then four. I felt four years of memories starting to slip away, slowly. Then three, we were halfway there. Then two. Here came the tears, and it wasn’t over yet.
Finally, we got to our last show. My stomach dropped as I got ready that night. “This can’t be it”, I thought to myself, ‘I love this and these people too much.” But it was. The show opened. The show finished. The curtain call came and we danced and sang our hearts out to “I’m a Believer” one last time. I will never be able to describe the feeling I had after the final note of that song played. I just can’t. I know I’ve set myself up to make this ridiculous pun, but that show made me a “believer” in the magic of theatre. It’s been a year since I said ‘Good-bye’ but my time doing musicals in high school I consider some of the best times of my life.
I guess we always believe things are infinite, until they are not.
