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![Mirror of Erised [oneshot] Empty](https://2img.net/i/empty.gif)
“Honey, this is the price you pay for fame.”
“Yes, dahling, I’m practically dying!”
We both burst into laughter, sipping Chai teas from a very small, locally owned, coffee and tea shop in Times Square. Marianne and I pose for a few pictures with the tourist. I can hardly say I wasn’t like this when I saw John Gallagher walking down the crowded sidewalks of the big NYC. I can hear Marianne’s iPhone 6 ringing in her skinny jeans. She pulls out the tiny phone, and accepts the call.
“Hey babe! I cannot believe it…wait…you’re here? AND you are seeing the show tonight? That’s great. Oh! We’ll meet after the show too. So you are helping Claire or just meeting with her as well? Oh, you’re interviewing us. Gotcha. Well, I’m sure both Madi and I could get you in. Haha, love you Amber.”
She slips the phone back into her skinny jeans, and I burst into a huge smile.
“AMBER! Oh, it’s been too, too long.” I link my arm around Marianne’s and we head to Madison Square, about to meet up with a few old friends of ours.
Today seriously couldn’t get any better.
“LESLIE!” I shriek as soon as I set face on my friend. She drops her microphone, and runs to both Marianne and I. We all group hug, and Steph comes out from behind, handling some pretty deep drama, if the Twitters are correct. Marianne breaks apart from the group, and waves her over. Steph, lovingly, gives the guy who she was yelling at the finger, before running in her black high heels, and A-line pencil skirt, to give us a hug.
“Sorry, I’m in such a rush. After getting that Oscar, I’ve tried my hand at stage managing her concerts, and it’s a lot more fun than I’d think!” Steph chuckles. Marianne and I grin at one another; Steph really knows how to make sure everything goes right. I think she’s found her calling.
Her BlackBerry vibrates like a demon, and she reads the text.
“Shit.” Steph murmurs under her breath, “I gotta take the star. We’ll be here for the Tony Awards too! So many of us are nominees. G’luck with the show tonight!” And with that, Leslie is whisked away.
I get a text from our choreographers, Kathy and Stephaloo (It’s her nickname; With two Stephs, it gets kinda crazy sometimes). I hail a taxi, and soon we are headed towards the St. James Theatre for the opening show tonight.
I run into dance rehearsals, throwing off my comfortable cardigan and simple shirt, and slip of my skirt to reveal boy shorts and a tank top. I’m ever so thankful we are rehearsing a modern piece, and not a jazz one. Zoe’s musical is really, really, dance orientated.
Marianne got one of the leading roles, which is amazing for her since this is her Broadway debut! This would be my third show, and I’m a pretty decent sized character, if I do say so myself.
Rehearsals last for a few hours, and soon the actual musical is starting.
It flies by so fast. By the end, I can hear people screaming everyone’s name, which is a great feeling. We are all in our last costumes. I can feel my hand in Marianne’s as we take our final bows, and the curtain closes.
“That…was…so…frikkin…amazing…wow…” Is all Marianne can muster to say. I hug her, tightly, before bringing her to the dressing rooms so we can make ourselves presentable to go to a bar with Amber and Claire. I talked to Kathy and Stephaloo to see if they wanted to come too. They said they would.
Ahh, the gang was getting back together.
“And so, he just didn’t want to try the jump! So, I said, ‘Well, maybe if I cut off your penis, you could turn like that!’ His face was the definition of hilarious!”
“Okay, Alex’s face was not that funny. What was funny was when Kathy here was so mad, she cussed out Lillian, and Lillian nearly pissed in her pants!”
Kathy laughed at the memory that Stephaloo was restating. We all had a few drinks, a glass of wine or two (other than Marianne, who was still one year under aged). Amber had asked us what our favorite time was on set, or memory. Marianne went next.
“When I was too nervous to kiss the poor guy, and nearly bit his lip. It was so funny, because he’s about thirty two, I’m only twenty, and everyone was calling him a pedophile.”
Amber cracked up at that one, eagerly writing it down.
“Madi, your next.”
I giggled at the one I had in my head.
“My favorite was when we were in rehearsal, and Marianne’s dress had this HUGE cut in it, that we didn’t know about. The poor guy, also named Jason, thought he ripped the dress. Jason’s a huge dork, in a really cool way, and freaked out!”
Everyone chuckled at that memory.
We caught up on old times, and new times, before heading home.
Tony Awards. OhmyfuckinggoshIwassonervouseverythingwasrunningtogetherinmyheadandIAMABOUTTOPISSINMYPANTS!
Sarah, my little adopted sweetheart, held my hand as I waited to see who would win Best Supporting Female Actress.
“Madison Mitra!”
I pick up Sarah, the little three year old, and set her on my hip, before coming upstage to get my Tony.
I breath out an acceptance speech, or, try too. Sarah, the little darling she is, reaches for the microphone to say something.
“Mommy wants to dank awll da pweepoles who works on da show for making Mommy successful. Oh, aaand Gawd. And me. And hwer famwely and fweinds. Wuv you Mommy!” She kisses my cheek. I raise the Tony above my head.
I watch Marianne, Zoe, Kathy and Stephaloo accepts their Tony Awards, wearing one-of-a-kind Claire originals (just like Sarah and I!). Soon, we are all in anticipation, waiting to see who won the Best Musical award.
AND IT WAS OURS!
I see all the RVers, finally, in the audience. They are chanting something from Harry Potter (our secret signal.) Zoe cries happy tears, and we accept the award with grace.
Some days, I wonder what would happen if I looked into the Mirror of Erised.
And then, I realize, I don’t have too.
“Yes, dahling, I’m practically dying!”
We both burst into laughter, sipping Chai teas from a very small, locally owned, coffee and tea shop in Times Square. Marianne and I pose for a few pictures with the tourist. I can hardly say I wasn’t like this when I saw John Gallagher walking down the crowded sidewalks of the big NYC. I can hear Marianne’s iPhone 6 ringing in her skinny jeans. She pulls out the tiny phone, and accepts the call.
“Hey babe! I cannot believe it…wait…you’re here? AND you are seeing the show tonight? That’s great. Oh! We’ll meet after the show too. So you are helping Claire or just meeting with her as well? Oh, you’re interviewing us. Gotcha. Well, I’m sure both Madi and I could get you in. Haha, love you Amber.”
She slips the phone back into her skinny jeans, and I burst into a huge smile.
“AMBER! Oh, it’s been too, too long.” I link my arm around Marianne’s and we head to Madison Square, about to meet up with a few old friends of ours.
Today seriously couldn’t get any better.
“LESLIE!” I shriek as soon as I set face on my friend. She drops her microphone, and runs to both Marianne and I. We all group hug, and Steph comes out from behind, handling some pretty deep drama, if the Twitters are correct. Marianne breaks apart from the group, and waves her over. Steph, lovingly, gives the guy who she was yelling at the finger, before running in her black high heels, and A-line pencil skirt, to give us a hug.
“Sorry, I’m in such a rush. After getting that Oscar, I’ve tried my hand at stage managing her concerts, and it’s a lot more fun than I’d think!” Steph chuckles. Marianne and I grin at one another; Steph really knows how to make sure everything goes right. I think she’s found her calling.
Her BlackBerry vibrates like a demon, and she reads the text.
“Shit.” Steph murmurs under her breath, “I gotta take the star. We’ll be here for the Tony Awards too! So many of us are nominees. G’luck with the show tonight!” And with that, Leslie is whisked away.
I get a text from our choreographers, Kathy and Stephaloo (It’s her nickname; With two Stephs, it gets kinda crazy sometimes). I hail a taxi, and soon we are headed towards the St. James Theatre for the opening show tonight.
I run into dance rehearsals, throwing off my comfortable cardigan and simple shirt, and slip of my skirt to reveal boy shorts and a tank top. I’m ever so thankful we are rehearsing a modern piece, and not a jazz one. Zoe’s musical is really, really, dance orientated.
Marianne got one of the leading roles, which is amazing for her since this is her Broadway debut! This would be my third show, and I’m a pretty decent sized character, if I do say so myself.
Rehearsals last for a few hours, and soon the actual musical is starting.
It flies by so fast. By the end, I can hear people screaming everyone’s name, which is a great feeling. We are all in our last costumes. I can feel my hand in Marianne’s as we take our final bows, and the curtain closes.
“That…was…so…frikkin…amazing…wow…” Is all Marianne can muster to say. I hug her, tightly, before bringing her to the dressing rooms so we can make ourselves presentable to go to a bar with Amber and Claire. I talked to Kathy and Stephaloo to see if they wanted to come too. They said they would.
Ahh, the gang was getting back together.
“And so, he just didn’t want to try the jump! So, I said, ‘Well, maybe if I cut off your penis, you could turn like that!’ His face was the definition of hilarious!”
“Okay, Alex’s face was not that funny. What was funny was when Kathy here was so mad, she cussed out Lillian, and Lillian nearly pissed in her pants!”
Kathy laughed at the memory that Stephaloo was restating. We all had a few drinks, a glass of wine or two (other than Marianne, who was still one year under aged). Amber had asked us what our favorite time was on set, or memory. Marianne went next.
“When I was too nervous to kiss the poor guy, and nearly bit his lip. It was so funny, because he’s about thirty two, I’m only twenty, and everyone was calling him a pedophile.”
Amber cracked up at that one, eagerly writing it down.
“Madi, your next.”
I giggled at the one I had in my head.
“My favorite was when we were in rehearsal, and Marianne’s dress had this HUGE cut in it, that we didn’t know about. The poor guy, also named Jason, thought he ripped the dress. Jason’s a huge dork, in a really cool way, and freaked out!”
Everyone chuckled at that memory.
We caught up on old times, and new times, before heading home.
Tony Awards. OhmyfuckinggoshIwassonervouseverythingwasrunningtogetherinmyheadandIAMABOUTTOPISSINMYPANTS!
Sarah, my little adopted sweetheart, held my hand as I waited to see who would win Best Supporting Female Actress.
“Madison Mitra!”
I pick up Sarah, the little three year old, and set her on my hip, before coming upstage to get my Tony.
I breath out an acceptance speech, or, try too. Sarah, the little darling she is, reaches for the microphone to say something.
“Mommy wants to dank awll da pweepoles who works on da show for making Mommy successful. Oh, aaand Gawd. And me. And hwer famwely and fweinds. Wuv you Mommy!” She kisses my cheek. I raise the Tony above my head.
I watch Marianne, Zoe, Kathy and Stephaloo accepts their Tony Awards, wearing one-of-a-kind Claire originals (just like Sarah and I!). Soon, we are all in anticipation, waiting to see who won the Best Musical award.
AND IT WAS OURS!
I see all the RVers, finally, in the audience. They are chanting something from Harry Potter (our secret signal.) Zoe cries happy tears, and we accept the award with grace.
Some days, I wonder what would happen if I looked into the Mirror of Erised.
And then, I realize, I don’t have too.
