2. Eden

2

EDEN

E den Rowley stared at the miserable piece of pastry in front of her, soggy and slightly burnt at the edges, the custard filling a congealed mess.

Much like her career.

She picked at the tart, shredding it into tiny little pieces, willing it to catch on fire or something. Really, the questionable treat had done nothing to deserve her ire, but it was in the wrong coffee shop on the wrong day. So it had to suffer.

Another rejection. That was, what? The sixth one this month? And she’d worked so hard at it, too. Staying up late every night for a week, taping and taping and taping until she’d had a record of the absolute pinnacle of her ability. An absolute gem to send off to the casting director. Whoever said you should send in the second tape, no matter what, was a complete moron. Eden could always be better.

But it wasn’t good enough. It was never good enough.

Another chunk fell from the wretched tart, which oozed its contents onto the plate, the sticky mess coating her fingers. Absentmindedly, Eden licked them clean, too tired and upset to maintain her stupid diet. What was the point in having the media’s idea of the perfect body if nobody wanted to put it onstage?

What did “too charming” even mean, anyway? How the hell could she be too charming to play Cinderella? The woman was a literal princess, who charmed small animals and the like to her side.

What they meant, of course, was that they thought she was too much of a bimbo. All the blonde hair and fluttery lashes. Nobody ever gave her the chance to play an actually interesting character. Eden slumped down in her chair, chin hitting the table, fully aware that pitying herself over her classically good looks was incredibly petty. But she couldn’t help it. Type-casting was a bitch.

The director had wanted someone more “real.” He’d wanted to make the point that anybody can find love and magic, and all of that crap. Not just the stereotypical blonde. The few things Eden did get cast in, she was always either the completely boring love interest—or perhaps the other woman. Nobody thought she was good enough for the more complex roles.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Amanda rushed in, wearing one of her usual ensembles, complete with flowing sleeves and vibrant colours. She was wafting incense around the room. Amanda collapsed into the chair facing Eden and smoothed her hair back, fanning herself lightly.

Eden didn’t even look up at her friend, too busy picking at the massacred pastry.

“No luck then?” Amanda waved over a waitress, putting in an order for two red berry teas, “I told you, girl, Cinderella was a stupid move. You’re wasting your time with complete dreck. You should be aiming higher!”

“Why, because a rejection from an actual West End show would feel better than a rejection from a local production?”

Amanda giggled. “Sweetie, it was barely a step above am-dram. I mean what were they gonna pay you, like fifty quid? Come on, you’d make more playing Cinderella for a kid’s birthday party. And what the hell have you done to that custard tart?”

“But it’s not just Cinderella, is it? I haven’t been offered anything for months. At this rate, I won’t have a show to do this winter. I’ll have to wait for the summer season!”

Eden’s eccentric friend hummed. “I mean, it’s nearly December, so you’re definitely too late for the winter season. But you’re not missing out. All I got this year was another fucking pantomime! Oh, what’s that behind you? Wait! It’s the death of my career.”

Eden snickered despite herself, accepting the warm cup of tea from the waitress. It was nice to be the one getting served for once. Eden basically lived at the pub where she worked, with all the extra shifts she’d had to take since the cost of living decided to go through the roof.

Amanda sat back and sighed, “You know, I did a reading for you before I came. I suspected you might need the motivation.”

“You know I don’t believe in all that.” Eden groaned, fighting not to roll her eyes. Amanda meant well.

“Shut up! Yes, you do! Want to hear or not?”

“Let me guess . . . I’ve been directionless but I need to be more ambitious, and then all my dreams will come true?”

Amanda’s head cocked. “How did you know?”

“Because it’s the same thing you always tell me. And I try to be more ambitious, I really do, but you know how nervous I get. It’s like all of it is there inside me, but I just need to find a way to drag it out of myself.”

Her friend pouted her lips, assessing her for a moment. “Have you tried getting laid?”

Eden blushed, the tips of her ears turning red-hot. “Come on, Amanda, you know I’m not like that. The last time I tried to do casual, it . . . ended badly.”

“I’m not talking about ‘casual.’ I think it’s time you actually put yourself out there a bit more. I mean, I can’t even remember the last time you were in a relationship. Have you considered that maybe all this confusion you’ve got going on with your sexuality is holding you back?”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Eden said glumly, folding her arms. “Besides, I don’t have time to date. I need to focus on auditioning.”

Amanda narrowed her eyes, clearly debating whether or not to drop the subject. “I heard that Sarah D just got cast in a big musical,” she said, her voice turning snippy.

“Which one is she, the one with the hair?”

“Nah, you’re thinking of Sarah H. Sarah D is the one with the boobs. I think Sarah H now works in finance.”

Eden raised an eyebrow. That was unexpected. Sarah H-whatever-her-name-was, from their time at Mountglad Academy of Performing Arts, had always struck her as a little bit dim. Back when Eden was a bright-eyed twenty-one-year-old, fresh out of university and ready to take the theatre world by storm. But the past fourteen years had opened Eden’s eyes to reality.

“Which musical?” she asked, any creeping jealousy curbed by her relative distaste for musicals in general. Give her classical theatre any day.

“ The Phantom of the Opera . She’s playing Carlotta, so, not the lead.” Amanda examined her fingernails, acting as unaffected as her sullen friend. “Though I hear it’s going to be closing soon.”

“Don’t be petty.” Eden smirked before sipping her tea. “You don’t even sing.”

Amanda sniffed before retoring, “I would for that paycheck.”

Eden felt that. Each month, she seemed to be having to adjust her belt more and more tightly, the strain on her finances a constant source of stress. Each year, her roommates seemed to be getting younger, too. Or rather, she was getting older, and one by one, the people in her age group were moving on to different things. They were getting married, or buying houses. It was terrifying.

“Do you ever think about going and working in finance, or something?” Eden asked her friend, the familiar anxiety rising in her gut.

Amanda shrugged, “Sure, sometimes I think about it—finding a steady job that pays well. I’ve got a friend who works in sales for this media company, and she makes an absolute fortune. Who doesn’t want that?”

Eden chewed her lip. “I just don’t think I could do it. I love acting too much. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, even if it is a struggle sometimes.”

“I hear you. But that’s why I think it would be great to see you settle down with someone. You wouldn’t have to go it alone, you know?” Amanda sighed, “I really do get worried about you sometimes. I know you don’t want to talk about this, but have you even told your parents that you’re gay?”

Eden winced, “Not exactly, but it’s not like they particularly care. Too busy adventuring around Australia.”

“I still can’t imagine your dad in shorts and sandals,” Amanda said, with a shudder. “But you really should tell them. I think it will release some tension for you. Or at least, tell our other friends.”

“It’s not like the subject ever comes up! What would I do, have a coming-out party? I’m not a teenager anymore. It’s none of their business. If they just assume I’m straight because of how I look, not to mention the parts I get cast in, then that’s their problem—not mine.”

“See, there’s that hostility,” Amanda quipped. “I think you’re scared of who you really are, Eden. It’s holding you back.”

“How is it holding me back, exactly?”

Amanda leaned back for a moment, chewing over her response. “Acting is all about understanding a character, you get me? Being confident enough in your knowledge of someone else that you can step into their shoes, and really be them. How can you manage that, when you haven’t even figured out how to understand yourself?”

Eden swallowed, her throat suddenly thick, her skin crawling at her friend’s uncanny perception. Nobody else would be as brutally honest with her, and it wasn’t nice.

“What would you have me do?” she asked, throwing her hands up in frustration, while fighting back tears.

Amanda reached forward and took one of her hands. “Open yourself up a bit. Try and meet new people, even if you’re not expecting anything from it. Date, laugh, kiss, all of that stuff. Get to know yourself a bit better and spend some time with this part of yourself.”

It wasn’t the worst advice.

But it filled Eden with such an overwhelming sense of dread that she had to squeeze her eyes shut for a moment, so the tears wouldn’t fall. She wasn’t good at dating, at love, at any of that. She was too critical of herself. Too focused on her need to be perfect. It was exhausting enough just walking through life that way, let alone always having someone around to watch her struggle.

“Just something to think about,” Amanda said gently, undoubtedly sensing her hesitation. “In the meantime, try being a little kinder to yourself. And aim higher with the auditions. I know you’ve got what it takes. Also, some of these bigger theatre companies have better characters. Directors who know what they’re doing.”

Eden sighed and knocked back the last of her tea. She had gone to some of the auditions for bigger productions, but she never seemed to make it past the first round. The larger stuff seemed so untouchable, so unachievable. It was easier to stick to a more modest level. But perhaps Amanda was right; perhaps she had been playing it a bit too safe. What would it hurt to try out a few more times?

The warped jangling of Amanda’s phone, playing some awful cover of a Beatles song, rang out through the café, earning a few disgruntled stares. She glanced at the screen, seemingly unaware of the irritated eyes on them, while Eden sank low in her chair, hoping the ground would swallow her up whole.

“Oh shit, it’s Lily! Let me go outside and take this real quick.”

With a flourish of skirts, she was gone, leaving Eden alone with an empty teacup and a decimated custard tart. Lily was another of their theatre friends. Most of their friends were theatre friends who adored gossip. Eden was relieved because whatever tea Lily had to spill would probably distract Amanda from her compulsive need to psychoanalyse.

It also meant it could be a good hour before Amanda was back, although it was cold outside and Eden hoped her friend wouldn’t abandon her quite so readily.

She leaned back in her chair and distractedly fiddled with the end of her braid, mulling over what Amanda had said. Sure, she wasn’t really one for dating, but who cared? It was time consuming and expensive, and she had better things to be doing. It had nothing to do with the fact that Eden was gay, contrary to what Amanda might believe. It was more about her general anxiety.

Being in a relationship with someone meant letting them in. Exposing your rawest parts and asking them to still love you. Traditionally, Eden hadn’t done very well with that. Besides, she so adored her work. She couldn’t imagine giving it up for a second. Getting into a relationship would no doubt affect things. Her partner might want to move, to get a house, or to start a family. All things that would get in the way of Eden’s dream.

All of a sudden, Amanda burst back into the cafe, hair in disarray from the wind, but a sparkle in her eye.

“You’ll never guess what!” she chirped, plonking back down in the chair so excitedly that she almost bounced right back up.

“What?” Eden asked, with a wry grin. Lily always delivered.

“RBC are branching out. They’re doing a whole bunch of original works next season!”

“What?” Eden spluttered again. This time, her voice was equal parts disbelieving and hopeful. “RBC never branch out. When was the last time they put on something that wasn’t written in, like, the last two hundred years?”

“Apparently they’re mixing things up.” Amanda clasped her hands in front of her excitedly, as if she’d just been nominated for a Tony. “They’re doing a whole load of Shakespeare retellings. There’s going to be one about Puck, one from Lady Capulet’s point of view, I think maybe Horatio, too? But the biggest one is going to be about Beatrice from Much Ado About Nothing .”

Eden laughed, “Surely Horatio would be their flagship. Everyone loves Hamlet . It’s got the gravitas. Why Much Ado ?”

Amanda shrugged, “It’s based on the book by Alicia Pearson. In the retelling, Beatrice doesn’t fall in love with Benedick because she’s actually gay. Also, she’s way more conflicted about what Claudio does to Hero. It’s quite good, actually. I read it when it first came out.”

“So, you think just because Pearson wrote it, that’s why they’re championing it?” Eden asked, still stunned by the rigidly traditional company’s unexpected move.

“Well, apparently . . .” Amanda began, lowering her voice. Equal parts conspiratorial and gleeful. “Genevieve Howard is directing it. So it has to be a pretty big deal.”

Eden’s mouth fell open with an audible “pop . ”

“Genevieve Howard? As in knife-stage ‘Romeo and Juliet,’ Genevieve Howard? I thought she was a purist!”

“She is! But she’s directing this one and it’s being performed next summer! You should totally audition!”

“Audition for a Genevieve Howard show? Are you out of your mind? She’d skin me alive for having the audacity to walk in the room!”

Amanda threw her head back and laughed. “Come on, Eden; she’s not that bad. I met her once. At the opening night of Nell Gwyn . She was very nice!”

“Yeah, well, she wasn’t directing that one,” Eden muttered. “I’ve heard she’s terrifying. I don’t think I could face her.”

“Okay, maybe she’s a little scary. You gotta admit though; she’s bloody good.” Amanda’s eyes grew distant and a look of distinct admiration passed over her face.

“Why don’t you audition, then?” sniped Eden.

“Oh honey, I’m going straight for the Puck one! I’d kill as Titania. Maybe Lady Capulet as well, but probably only those two. Don’t want to spread myself too thin.”

Eden nodded, seeing her logic. It wasn’t the best practice to just hurl yourself at whatever audition you could get your hands on. You needed to take the time to do the research, to really get to know that character and the vision.

She knew Amanda was dreaming of fairies and swordplay, but Eden contemplated her own options. A play all about Beatrice. Eden liked Beatrice well enough, but wasn’t generally too fond of Much Ado About Nothing . She preferred the tragedies to the comedies. But from the sound of things, this play would focus more on the tragedy of Beatrice’s life and circumstances. Personal choice, freedom, the fear of watching someone you love be so utterly destroyed. Then having to rely on a man to fix it.

It was all rather beguiling. How would Genevieve Howard pull it off? she wondered. A pondering, wistful Beatrice? An angry, passionate one, furious at her trappings? Some delicious mix of both? And to make her queer? Well, Beatrice had always struck Eden as the type, so that made sense. Even if the dynamic between Beatrice and Benedick was hilariously witty, she supposed that could exist outside of romantic attraction. Like with many Shakespeare heroes, Eden could easily imagine a gay interpretation of Benedick as well.

For RBC to experiment with a character’s gender and sexuality was nothing new. But somehow it still seemed rather old-fashioned—still trapped in the viewpoint that maleness was the standard. If a character was made to be openly gay, then that was a focal point, rather than just a simple element of the character. It became the entire story, rather than being naturally woven into the character’s human existence. But weaving it through would be true representation, and less gimmicky.

The rigid traditionalism of RBC had always intimidated Eden and put her off from auditioning. The London Shakespeare Society had seemed much more approachable and achievable, even if she’d only once got through the first round of auditions. Eden had never gone for RBC.

“So, will you do it?” Amanda pressed, practically vibrating in her seat. “Please say you’ll do it. I think you’d be amazing! And it’s just the push you need to get yourself back on the auditioning horse.”

Eden chewed on her lip. “Would they even take me? Aren’t they really snobby? I haven’t acted in anything proper in ages.”

Amanda waved her hand dismissively. “Not a problem. We went to Mountglad, and that’s enough to get us through the door no matter what we’ve done since. I’d bet my favourite tarot deck on it.”

“Not the celestial deck,” Eden said with a giggle. “How would I even get an audition? They’re closed, aren’t they?”

Her bold friend smirked, “I’ll get us in; don’t worry. Unlike you, I’m active on the Mountglad alumnae chats. Someone will know someone.”

“But, what if . . .”

“Eden,” Amanda cut her off, her voice turning suddenly serious. “You are going to this audition. I don’t care if I have to drag you there myself. It’s a perfect role for you, and you are more than good enough. You understand me?”

Eden smiled coyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Okay, fine, I’ll audition. But I’m not getting my hopes up!”

Amanda squealed and immediately started tapping on her phone, ready to shamelessly exploit her various contacts. Eden allowed herself to feel a small sliver of excitement. She’d never auditioned for anything like this before. And it was Genevieve Howard. Even if the play was new, Genevieve’s mere presence was enough to ensure its quality. The woman was a sort of mad genius. A very intimidating, immaculate mad genius.

Eden’s feet began to tap and adrenaline coursed through her. She would have to go home and do a whole bunch of research now, on any angle that might help her stand out for this audition. It was going to be a challenge, but one Eden was determined to meet.