Chapter 9
NINE
Olly
Falling for someone was not on the to-do list at this year’s Larry Awards.
Making friends? Yes.
Doing well in the competition? For sure!
My eyes nearly popping out of my head when Tarun dashed out of the bathroom in just his towel this morning: his thick black hair glued to his forehead and his wet chest on full display? Absolutely not.
And it’s affecting me. I’ve never got to have a real-life crush – at least not with someone I actually interact with.
Everyone I’ve ever swooned over before has been from the safe distance of me in the audience admiring a gorgeous man on stage.
But Tarun is right here! I can talk to him…
Maybe see if he likes me too… It’s so easy to glance his way and get a tingly feeling in my belly as he smiles his adorable smile, or trips over an uneven paving stone. It’s very easy to be distracted by him.
‘What’s going on with you?’ Zeb asks outside Basil Studios. ‘That walk was like trying to have a 148conversation with my five-year-old niece when Bluey is on.’
‘Sorry. I was just thinking about everything I need to remember for the show.’
He folds his arms. ‘Sure. You know all of Elphaba, Glinda and Fiyero’s lines in Wicked, despite having never been in the show, but you’re worried about the three songs we’re performing on Saturday? Tell me the truth!’
Where to even begin? Yes, Zeb knows Tarun’s gay, but what’s there to gain in sharing a one-sided crush?
Zeb’s my biggest ally, but even he’d question how barmy I am if I told him about the dream I had last night where Tarun was starring in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat and looked even better than Donny Osmond in just the tiny loincloth. ‘It’s nothing honestly!’
‘Hmm,’ Zeb tuts, heading up the stairs into the studios.
‘Olly?’ asks a Derry accent, stopping me from following Zeb inside. I turn, hoping for Tarun but instead being faced with Oisín.
‘Are you alright?’ I ask him cautiously as people filter past us inside.
‘Aye. I was wondering if we could have a wee chat before rehearsals?’
Tarun, who’s the last of the contestants to head in, looks between us but doesn’t stop to get involved once I’ve nodded to confirm I’m okay.149
‘Okay,’ I reply, now there’s only the two of us outside in the drizzly alley. ‘What did you want to talk about?’
He sits on the covered steps, carefully placing his tote bag onto his lap. ‘I’ve been made aware that I might have crossed a line this year.’
‘I think the line was crossed the first week we met, Oisín, and you’ve only got worse! In what world is it okay to go round making comments about people’s bodies?’
‘Aye, it’s not great. I want to say sorry.’
‘Believing you would be easier if you hadn’t ruined my chances last year and fabricated a story about me being madly in love with you when we both know who made the first move!’
‘I know. I let the competition get to my head and I wanted to … frazzle you. Do you get how frustrating it is when Elaine or Marty pull you for a private chat and not me? Like they’re backing you to do better…
I went too far though and I’m not going to stir anything more between us.
Tarun said we have the same end goal – to do well in the competition. I want us to focus on that now.’
I sigh, sitting heavily next to him. ‘That’s all I want. And I promise you, not every chat with the creatives is always a positive or them championing me to win. You don’t need to put yourself at an advantage when you have enough talent to get by on merit alone.’150
He gasps. ‘Did you just say something … nice about me?’
‘Yeah. Whatever we think of each other, we recognise the other’s talent, I think?’
‘Aye. I wouldn’t be treating you as competition if I didn’t,’ he says. ‘What do you say? Let’s just try doing our best from here on out?’
‘Sure,’ I say. The people pleaser in me is so much stronger than the beast hungry for retribution. ‘Tarun’s right: we want the same thing.’
‘He’s been by far the biggest surprise this week. I’d only seen him in the chorus back home, but he’s one to watch for the final, I think.’
‘Yeah, he’s amazing.’
‘Aye…’ Oisín says, looking up at the studio door. ‘We’d better get to rehearsal: make sure he doesn’t beat us then.’
My fingers tense on the stone step beneath me. Now he’s realised Tarun is a worthy threat, what if he pulls the kind of stupid stunts he has on me when Tarun’s already nervous?
‘As long as you’re exclusively talking about self-betterment, rather than anything nefarious…’
‘Come off it, Olly!’ he says, rolling his eyes as he stands up. ‘Just have to be the best in the end, don’t you?’
But as he enters the studios, I can’t help but worry that an old dog can’t be taught new tricks. He’s always played 151sneaky before, and he probably will again. He’d better not mess up Tarun’s confidence with his games though.
‘Are you coming or what?’ Sabrina asks, poking her head out of the studio. ‘Never thought I’d see the day Olly Redmond risked being late for rehearsals.’
I jump to my feet, and hurry inside. Because, unlike Oisín, I only have myself, and no tricks, to work with.
Tarun
Panting. Gasping for air. Performing our ten-minute number is more knackering than it was doing all three hours of Les Mis.
‘Excellent job, folks. Let’s sit down and go through some notes,’ Elaine calls out and my medley group break from our final position.
Our four groups each have an allotted slot with Elaine and Marty separately, and two free sessions to work on our own.
Sitting on the floor in front of Elaine, Oisín places himself right next to me.
He’s so close I can smell his nice, fresh deodorant.
‘Good job, Tarun,’ he whispers to me.
‘You too,’ I reply, trying not to blush.
‘Enough chit chat thank you!’ Elaine shouts, glaring directly at me and Oisín. ‘On the whole, good work across the board. Philippa? You’re starting us off, so we need 152more oomph in the opening lines. Yes, it’s a tender song, but you need to command the stage still. Tarun?’
‘Aye?’
‘Great singing as always. That section of “Red and Black” shows you off nicely. Now we just need to up the ante in the acting stakes. Marius is choosing between life and death. The love of his life Cosette or the battle to free France from the shackles of an authoritarian regime! The audience need to feel that inner turmoil, you get me?’
I say yes, cursing myself that once again I’m coming up short.
The notes go on with Oisín and Hugo being rightly praised, and then we’re sent to the side while Elaine runs through an elaborate dance section she wants to add for Philippa and Mia.
She leads them through a series of high kicks while I sit in a corner and think about how to make sure Marius’ inner turmoil comes through in my performance.
But pain feels (and I imagine looks) pretty much the same as constipation when I try recreating the emotion.
‘Mind if I join you?’ asks Oisín, standing over me.
‘Of … of course not.’
He lifts his shirt to wipe his brow, showing off his tight stomach before sitting to face me, crossing his legs so the points of our knees press against each other. I instinctively want to bunch my knees up so we’re not 153touching, but I allow myself to be brave and stay connected.
‘I wanted to let you know I spoke to Olly this morning, and we’ve cleared the air.’
‘Good… I know he’ll appreciate that.’
‘You doing okay? You seemed deep in thought when I came over,’ he asks. I’m breathless all over again, but now for very different reasons than the adrenaline of performing. This is stupid. He’s made it clear the kiss was just a one-off thing. We should both be focusing on the competition.
‘Aye, not bad. I’m just trying to think of how to show Elaine the “inner turmoil” she wants to see. Olly said to think of something from my real life to use as an inspiration, but I’ve never had to choose between a girl and a student revolution.’
He laughs. ‘I don’t know what she’s chatting, to be honest. I was thinking during that last run what a natural, handsome Marius you are.’
He didn’t just say that. ‘Handsome?’
He tilts his head. ‘Come on, Tarun… I don’t kiss boys I don’t think are handsome.’
My heart jumps out of my chest. ‘I thought you didn’t want to talk about what happened at the after-show party…’
He touches my arm, sending sparks all the way down 154my spine. ‘Well, maybe I do now? You showed me when you stood up for Olly yesterday that I’ve been too caught up in the competition. Why should I deny we had a good kiss? That we like one another?’
I’m at a loss for words. Things I’ve dreamt about Oisín saying since we made out two months ago are actually coming true.
‘I mean, I’m right in assuming you like me back, aren’t I?’ he asks. ‘It wasn’t just a drunken kiss that night, was it? You like me, don’t you?’
‘Oisín, I…’ I stumble. Every unit of my brain’s anxiety-production factory is going at full blast, telling me not to tell him. To stay safe.
But … that’s not what this week’s about. It’s about being brave and taking chances. So I take a deep breath, sending away every anxious thought with my exhale.
‘Aye. I do. I like you.’
Olly
‘Have you thought about what we said yesterday?’ Marty asks me as I approach the piano. The rest of my group are all chatting. Taking his and Elaine’s advice about how I present myself in the final should be easy.
‘I’m still not sure…’155
‘From where I’m standing, it’s an easy choice,’ he says, exasperated. ‘Do you want to fulfil some vanity project of expressing yourself or do you want to show off your skills in the best light? I thought you were serious about getting a place at Ashford…’
I hate the look on his face. I hate disappointing him.
‘I’ll do “Lucky to be Me”.’
Marty finally smiles, taking my rep folder and turning to the sheet music. ‘You’re making the right choice. This will show them what a successful leading man you could be.’