Stage Lights

The heat of the lights beaming above hits my face and shoulders. I turn my face to the floor to avoid being blinded. Why did I ever audition for something I had no interest in? I have never had any interest in acting. I only tried out because my crush said she was going to audition too. Now I must pay the price for love with my dignity. I managed to land the role of Puck in a Midsummer Night’s Dream but how? A month ago I stood on a stage for 2 minutes as I read words from a paper. How does that prove how good of an actor anyone is? Almost anyone can read. I read in class all the time. There’s nothing special to it. Acting is just reciting lines while wearing big fancy ballgowns. I hate theatre. I really do. I don’t like sitting in the cafeteria for hour-long assemblies let alone watching high schoolers perform Shakespeare for three hours. I would actually rather watch the show than perform in it. And to top it off, I have stage fright. Whenever I get called on in class my face heats up and my hands get all clammy. My limbs feel like they’ve just shot three bottles of 5-hour energy and my brain feels like it’s been in the blender mixing a brain smoothie at full speed. I can barely feel my tongue and all I can focus on are the people tittering around me. I try my hardest to speak but no words come out. I sit there, eyes wide in horror, as I desperately try to form my mush brain back into something even remotely functional. 

But this is much worse than the teacher asking me for the answer. In class, not everyone is looking at me. They’re on their phones or talking to the person next to them. Here, all eyes gaze. ‘All eyes gaze’? Isn’t that Romeo and Juliet? That’s not what I need to focus on now. Right now I need to breathe and think of my line. 

My answer.

Lines are just answers to the teacher’s question. In this case, I’m still the student, but the audience is the professor. They use their eyes to ask me the question, “What will you do?” And I know that answer! I will say my line and then move across the stage. 

But is that it? Is that all there is to acting? Surely not. All of my peers make it seem much more intense than this but I’ve found it rather simple. You remember a few words, put on a costume, and recite. Easy. Simple. Scary.

Scary? Why do I think that? I’m just pretending to be someone else. It’s just pretend. With an entire audience watching me. And judging me. And forming opinions on me based on how I deliver my speech. 

Right.

Brain smoothie.

Scary.

Did I notice yet how hot the lights are? The leaves on my costume are fated to catch fire if I don’t move out of the spotlight in a few seconds. I don’t understand why the lights need to be there. Just leave the house lights on. That way the focus won’t be on me. Please take the focus off of me. Don’t look at me. Don’t listen to me. I’m going to stutter and wobble and I’ll forget my line. Right, my line. What was it? It was on the tip of my tongue as I walked out but the second the damn lights that are going to alight the stage hit me I forgot. ‘How are you, spirit? Where are you going?’ No. That’s the translation. Why do we need to know the translations of our lines? It’s not like we will remember what they mean. Well, I guess I remembered what mine meant. But why must we know what they mean? Can’t we just say the words? And why can’t we have scrolls with us that have our lines writ down so that if we forget we can look at them? I’m assuming the point is to not forget your line. And why won’t the fairy help me out here? They’re an actor, they can just improvise. Maybe improvising in Shakespeare is harder than it sounds but I wouldn’t know for I’ve never tried. Also, why must we remember the line before ours? That’s just extra work and extra words that we don’t need cluttering our brains. My brain is a liquid for all I know. It’s been in the blender for too long. I think it is much easier to remember the line after yours. Because after you say your line you don’t have to stress about saying your line. For example, I know the fairy’s line in response to mine.

‘Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander everywhere.’

Through fire? I know they’re a fairy and all but that seems a little extreme. Well, I guess it’s true because we’ll all be swimming through fire once the building is set ablaze from those stupid lights. 

But once more, that’s not the subject focus. I must remember my line. Have I yet decided that I hate Shakespeare? ‘Cause I do. I wish he didn’t write in broken English. Everyone else seems to understand clearly what his fragmented sentences. It’s like a foreign language. If even I don’t know what words are coming out of y mouth I doubt the audience does either. 

The audience. 

I probably look like a halfwit just standing here. But I bet they’re going to look at me with the same confusion once I start speaking a dead language. I still don’t know how we’re supposed to tell a story if no one understands what we are saying. I guess that’s part of ‘being a good actor.’ I do understand some Shakspearian words. Like hither, yonder, villain, whither, wander… whither wander! How now, spirit! whither wander you? That’s the line! I’d better say it before I forget again.

I can finally forget about the questions, and the brain blender, and the opinions, and the goddamn stage lights!

“How now, spirit! whither wander you?”