Chapter 17 #2
‘I never got an audition for that show or producer again. The feedback they gave my agent was, “Once you’ve seen someone play gay, it’s very hard to imagine them convincingly fall in love with a woman.
” And that was my career over because I didn’t think.
’ He turns and looks at me with heavy eyes.
‘So, I won’t apologise for helping you out.
I won’t let someone as talented as you make the same mistakes I did. ’
Seeing the hurt he carries with him after all these years confirms that I can’t back down.
‘What they did was 282wrong. That’s why we should do this.
I want to prove to people that being queer doesn’t mean you can’t play any kind of human, within reason, if you’ve got the talent.
I don’t want to please the bigots, hiding who I am. Please, let me swap my song?’
I pull the sheet music for ‘Safe from the Waves’ out of my rep folder and hand it to him. It would be so easy to switch. But he doesn’t look at the sheet music. He scrunches it up, destroying my only copy of the song.
‘I’m not being scared. I’m being sensible. Don’t ruin your career before it’s even begun. Ignore my advice about your mannerisms and sibilance if that’s what you want – you control your own performance. But I won’t be part of you singing a – very good – song that will set your career back.’
He doesn’t look back at me as he walks into the bathroom next to us, tearing through the sheet music in his hand. Why would he do that? He’s perpetuating the same thing that has hurt him for years. This is shit!
But he’s right about one thing: I control my performance. There’s not long left till the start now, and I won’t dim my light for him. Not for anyone. I may not be able to sing my dream song if I make the final six, but at least I tried. I can hold my head up high.
Thank you for the video – and the cast recording!283
You and Ella are ace people and I can’t believe everyone sang and danced!
Not far away now X
Traffic’s been shite
Tarun’s cutting it too close for my liking, but he’ll smash it when he gets here. He seems to be in a much better head space than his ‘explanation’ earlier, and I heart emoji each of his messages.
Now it’s time to head to the wings and get ready to give the performance that could change my life. How hard can it be?
Tarun
We step out of the taxi and the theatre looms large over us. The queue of audience members heading in the front of the building snakes all the way around to the stage door, which is not a great sign that I’m here with ample time to prepare.
‘Smash it, mera putt,’ Mum says, proudly claiming me as her son in Punjabi as she kisses me on the cheek. ‘I can’t wait to meet Olly and get to know everything about your big cutie patootie after the show!’284
‘You’re not allowed to do anything embarrassing! It’s all very new… He might have changed his mind about me after I wasted so much time this afternoon.’
She tuts. ‘He and Ella wouldn’t have made that video for you if they weren’t the kind of people willing to forgive. They love you, Tarun. Now, stop dilly dallying and get yourself ready!’
I’m pretty much pushed through the stage door, where everything is strangely calm. The grumpy old man behind the sign-in desk looks up from his worn Ian Rankin novel.
‘You’re back,’ he says, sounding neither happy nor angry about this. ‘You gave everyone quite the fright there, young man.’
‘Sorry,’ I squeak; it’s the only reasonable reply. I try to head into the theatre, but he doesn’t buzz me through.
‘There’s a reason we have the sign-in-and-out system. If we’d had a fire, someone could have thought you were still in the building and risked their life trying to find you. Never again, do you hear me?’
‘Aye, understood. It was stupid.’
‘You can say that again,’ he says. ‘Have a good show.’
He presses the buzzer to open the backstage access door, and I’m hit by the sudden wave of noise. People are running around, setting costumes and doing vocal trills over the Tannoy’s fuzzy relay of the orchestra tuning up.285
‘Tarun!’ Ella beams, chucking her Red Riding Hood cape to the floor and throwing her arms around me. ‘You’re here! You’re really here!’
‘I am,’ I say, so glad she’s the person to welcome me back. ‘Thank you for—’
‘This is your fifteen-minute call! This is your fifteen-minute call…!’
Both of our eyes open wide at Lauren’s voice over the Tannoy.
‘Time for thank yous later!’ Ella says. ‘You need to get ready!’
‘Aye, see you on stage,’ I say, turning to leg it up the stairs two steps at a time, but stopping myself as I ask, ‘Did your mum manage to make it?’
Her happy face drops a little. ‘She couldn’t face leaving the house, but my auntie’s looking after her, so my dad’s here.’
‘She’ll be so proud when she sees the video of your performance.’
‘She will,’ she says, full to the brim with well-deserved pride.
‘Will you…’
‘…tell Olly you’re here if I see him? Of course!’
‘How did you know I’d ask about him?’
She raises an eyebrow. ‘Just a good guess of who you’re keen to see again…’286
My hands fizz with what that could mean, but I tell myself, ‘Not now’. There’s no time for worrying.
‘Okay!’ I say, rushing up the stairs.
I push open the door to my dressing room, which only has a few of my castmates left, tying their laces and spraying their bouffant hair styles with a full can of hairspray.
‘You’re back!’ says Ewan. ‘You need to get a move on.’
‘I know,’ I say, putting my guitar and bag on the floor before pulling my purple shirt and black trousers down from their hanger. ‘See you down there.’
My castmates rush out the door, leaving me alone to strip down to my boxers and pull on my show trousers.
Knock knock knock.
‘Hello?’ I call out, hoping beyond hope that it’s Olly, so I can wish him ‘break a leg’ before the show begins.
The door creaks open, and Sabrina pokes her head through. ‘Tarun!’
She covers her eyes when she sees I’m topless. ‘Sorry! Just needed to check that you’re here! Do you want me to get them to push back the start of the show?’
‘No,’ I say adamantly, pulling my shirt over my head. ‘I’ve caused enough delays as it is. I’ll be ready.’
‘Okay then! We’re all over the moon that the full cast will get to do this together.’
‘Me too,’ I say, checking I look presentable in the mirror. ‘I’ll be down in two minutes.’287
‘Alright then! Break a leg!’
She goes, and I exhale for as long as I possibly can.
All my anxieties, all the doubts, are sent out in one long breath.
My therapist’s requests for me to practise affirmations have always felt ridiculous, but I look my reflection dead in the eye and say, ‘I deserve to be here. I belong on this stage.’
With one final push of breath, I rush to the dressing-room door and head out into the corridor, where the last few cast members are kissing each other on the cheek and doing final preparations.
‘Act One Beginners, this is your call for Act One Beginners!’
I run down the stairs, making sure I’m not missing Olly. How could I? Even if he was four foot eleven, I wouldn’t miss his big charismatic smile in a crowd of thousands. But he’s nowhere to be seen.
Entering the wings, the sound of the audience chatting makes my throat go dry. Once the lights are down, everything will be okay. I can ignore them and just think about the support network I’ve got on stage to catch me if I fall.
‘Have you seen Olly?’ I ask anyone I pass, but they all shake their head.
Fuck. He starts the show in the opposite wing. I should run round and make sure he knows I’m here…288
But a blast of trumpets stops me in my tracks. Everyone snaps into show mode, even though the music is a cue for Rob Harrison to introduce the show, and we have a minute or so until we enter the stage.
A weird electric sensation fills my belly as I peer across into the darkness of the opposite wing. A tall presence looms over the other contestants…
The silhouette of a thumbs up shoots above the tall figure’s head. It must be him, and it’s exactly the push of encouragement I need. I’m going to do this.
Applause breaks out in the auditorium, as Rob says, ‘I’d like to introduce to you, our esteemed guests, The Larry Awards finalists!’
The clapping and cheering grows louder, as the now permanently-seared-into-my brain introduction to ‘You Can’t Stop the Beat’ plays from the band, and I’m heading onto stage.
This is it.
The Larry Awards have begun.