Elise's+Rough+Draft+2

I tentatively emerge from Grand Central Station, about to start a new chapter of life. I can feel my excitement and anxiety bubbling up inside of me. I squint as the blazing sun hits my face and prickles my back. It is about 90°, but with the hordes of people it feels closer to 107°. A flurry of people rush past and I step back to avoid being trampled. Speechless and in total shock, I stand for a few moments, taking in the excitement and energy. I crouch down and heave up my suitcases, letting out a small groan. I trudge a block down to a subway station and haul my suitcase down the steps. I buy a metro card and push my way through the entrance. I stop near the map on the wall and lay my suitcases down. I approach the map, squinting to decipherer all the skinny winding lines. I trace the trails with my finger and finally reach the conclusion that I should board the B train. Two subways zoom by, each causing a small gust of wind and blowing my hair back, before the B comes. When the B comes, I quickly board and find that there are no seats open. I head over to one of the poles and grab on. This is my first time on a subway and when subway lurches into action again, I go flying forward. Flushed and embarrassed, I regain my balance and cling tightly onto the pole. My mind starts to wander. I can see my name up on a huge marquee, glimmering brightly at night, and an audience, bursting out in applause and jumping to their feet for me as I take my bow and modestly smile, and fans reaching out for me and snapping pictures as I try to leave the dressing room. My thoughts are shattered as the subway once again lurches into action after a stop. I float back down to earth and realize that I am just a small-town girl from a close-knit town in Alabama where everybody knows everybody and just one person in this big, crazy city dreaming of being a star on Broadway. But that sure won't stop me from trying and pursuing my dream. "14th Street and Greenwich Village," a gravelly voice barks out on the speaker. This is my stop, so I bend down and hoist up my suitcases. I quickly skitter off the subway, out the entrance, and up the stairs. I emerge on the street and breathe a deep breath, glad to be out of the stuffy and suffocating subway station. I dig down into my purse and pull out a crumpled piece of paper with the address of the apartment building and room number and a map. When I approach my street, I slow down my pace and glace up at the apartment buildings' numbers until I reach my building. It is a plain light brown shade, with no doorman or revolving door like the swanky places, but it is decent. I drag my suitcases in the door and into the elevator with me and press the button for the 4th floor. The doors close and the elevator slowly carries me up. The doors slowly reopen and I hesitantly step out. I quickly see room 402 and reach into the nearby pot and retrieve the key I was told would be left there for me. I insert the key into the door and push as the door flings open. I take a few hesitant steps into the small apartment. "Hello?" I call out quietly. There is silence. I am going to room with the daughter of my mom's really close friend, but I guess she is out. I poke my head into the first room and find that it is a bathroom. I peer into the next room and find it empty except for a bed and a dresser. I assume this is my room, so I head in. I drop my suitcases on the floor and let out a long sigh. I glace at my watch, it is already 3 o'clock and there is an audition today at 4 o'clock that my agent told me about. Frantic, I fling open one of my suitcases and rummage through, looking for clothes and shoes to wear to the audition. I quickly find them and throw them on, do a quick hair and make up check in the bathroom mirror, grab my purse and sheet music, and fly out the door. I board the subway again, this time with more success. And arrive at the theatre quickly. I approach the door and heave it open. Inside, a hundred other people are already there, some looking confident, others scared and nervous, a hundred people, all from different backgrounds and with different looks and skills, all with one dream, to make it on Broadway. I join them and strap on my shoes. After a few minutes, the head casting director stands up and gets up in front of everyone. The talking quickly simmers as everyone stares intently at her. She talks for a while, with her assistant standing diligently at her side, and finally commands, "Okay, now, we need all of you to come up on the stage and stand in a line." We all do as instructed and quickly rush onto the stage and assemble into a line. Then, there is total silence. For minutes, there is agonizing silence, as the casting directors run their eyes over us. Then they begin whispering among themselves behind their clipboards. The tension is so palpable, each actor wondering what they could be saying about them. My knees are shaking violently, and I pray that no one can see. I try to stand straight and proud, hoping they like me. I had never been through a cattle call in theatre back in Alabama, but I had heard rumors about it. After what seems like hours, they break from their little clump. But that doesn’t break the tension, each of us still unsure of what our fate will be. The head casting director joins us on stage and stands right in front of us. "Now," she explains firmly, "we hate to do this but we have to cut many of you now. We're sorry but hey, that’s the business." She begins calling names loudly and sternly from her clipboard. I squeeze my hands tightly together behind my back, in an attempt to stop them from shaking, though it isn’t really working very well. My thoughts are in a blur and I can barely hear when she calls my name out because my mind is spinning so much. I let out a small gasp, not knowing if this is a good or bad thing. She continues to call more names for a little while more and then suddenly stops and faces us seriously. She slowly announces, "Those of you whose name I just called," and then pauses. I cross my fingers to tightly I can feel the circulation being cut off. "Will have to leave us right now and will not get a chance to audition." I stare blankly for a few moments, letting it sink in. Then all of a sudden, I feel a whirl of emotions: anger, disappointment, and sadness. I can't believe it, back home I was always cast as the lead in every show, and now I don’t even get the chance to show them what I got! In a flurry, I rush out of the theatre and onto the sidewalk. People whiz by as I stand trying to hold back tears. The happy and cheerful lights shining on signs start to blur, as my eyes grow damp. My head down, I quickly scurry to a subway station and wait for a subway, just wanting to get back to the apartment and bury my head in a pillow. The subway soon comes and I board. We zoom down below the streets and I soon arrive back at Greenwich Village. I push my way through the crowds, out of the subway station. I walk slowly down the streets, still not knowing what to think. Then I stop, and take a few steps backwards. I peer into the window of the coffee shop I just passed by. It looks cozy and inviting, so I figure I might as well go in and cheer myself up with a cup of coffee. I head inside and slump down onto a chair at a small table. My mind starts wandering and doubting myself. What was it they didn't like about me? My ethnicity, my weight, my height? And what was I thinking? That I would just come to New York City and expect to make it big? I mean, there's hundreds of people in this city, with the same dream as me. What makes me think that out of all these people I will be the one to become a star? This was such a terrible idea. I should just call up my mom and tell her I made a huge mistake and that I need to go home. Then I realize someone standing over me. I glance up and see a friendly looking, heavy-set lady standing there in a apron, with a notepad and pen in her hands. I quickly murmur my order to her and slump back down, resting my head in my hands. A few moments later, I can sense the lady still hovering over me. I peer up at her and she looks down at me sympathetically, "Bad day?" she asks. "Like you wouldn’t believe," I murmur quietly. Before I know it, I am just babbling on to her. Explaining to her how I moved here to pursue my dream of being an actress and how I didn't even get a chance to audition. By the end tears are slowly trickling down my face. "Honey," she sighs, "I moved here two years ago with the same dream. But it's hard for someone like me to get jobs in this business. But you know what? That sure doesn’t stop me from trying. In this crazy industry, you gotta get used to rejection. But you know what else? I moved up here with my friend, who also had the same dream. And just last month, she was cast in Wicked. Her dream finally came true, I know mine will too eventually, and I bet yours will too." A glance up at her and give her a smile. She smiles back and nods at me and turns and disappears into the back room. Maybe she was right. Maybe I will reach my dream eventually, I just have to stick it out. I mean, how could I expect to get cast in the very first show I auditioned for? I spot a nearby table with an abandoned newspaper lying on it. I pick myself up from my chair and go over and grab it. I sit back down in my chair and flip to the jobs section. I figure I have to pay the bills somehow before I become a huge Broadway star.