Cathy sat outside the Shanachie Theatre, a broad rimmed red hat upon her head with a white scarf to tie it around her chin. She was dressed elegantly, perhaps too elegantly for the little wooden picnic table and brown bag lunch she ate from. Still, she was a dancer and her graceful body demanded nothing but silks and satins. Her three inch pumps matched her hat, as did the belt that cinched her already tiny waist. Her dress was a creamy ivory that rode up her thighs, modestly enough. Sunglasses, of course, were large and round and hid her suede green eyes. She glanced around; it'd been a while since she'd been in Rhy'din. News travelled fast though and the news of a new theater company auditioning had brought her into town faster than she could whip out her credit card.
By contrast, Brigid looked positively rough and ready in her light jeans and pink shirt, blue sneakers on her feet and her rehearsal kit stowed away in the bag over her shoulder. Her own past shoulder-length mop of brunette waves was barely tameable at the best of times, and the hours she'd spent sitting near the beauty at the picnic table during the auditions today had only served to highlight just how low maintenance she really was herself. But ice queen or not, Brigid wasn't one to pass up an opportunity to make a friend of someone. She moved over to the immaculately turned out Cathy, waving a hand to get her attention. "Evenin'," she greeted warmly. "Don't suppose you know the best route to Ivy Heights from here?"
Cathy may have seemed unapproachable, but that was hardly the case. When one of the other dancers approached her, she turned and removed her sunglasses. She smiled brightly and canted her head slightly. "I'm sorry, I'm fairly new to this area myself. My name is Cathy." She extended her hand to the woman. "How are the auditions going for you?" Cathy's own bag of goodies was tucked neatly under the table beside her feet.
Brigid's hand was quick to slide into Cathy's with a firm squeezing shake as her smile brightened further. "I'm Brigid," she introduced herself, insinuating one leg beneath the table to straddle the bench next to her new companion. Her bag thumped onto the ground easily. "Auditions are the same, no matter where you go," she added with a shrug. "It's just a matter of bullin' it out." Her smile turned cheeky. "And they're just startin' up, it isn't like they can turn us all away for bein' awful just yet."
"I've watched you dance. You're going to make it." Cathy nodded with a smile. "I mean, you know the ones that aren't going to. They don't have that drive, you know" I mean, did you see the guy in the pink and yellow tights" He couldn't even keep balanced on two feet, much less doing anything else." She laughed softly and picked up her lunch bag. "I've got a turkey sandwich if you want some."
Brigid snickered quietly, rolling her eyes at the memory of the same guy, who'd bulled his way in and then managed to sabotage any attempt at taking the audition seriously for any of them. Even the woman who'd been running the group had had a hard time keeping her face straight. "Yeah, I know," she nodded in agreement, waving off the offer of a sandwich with a smile. "But then, if you've gone through all the trainin' and still don't have the drive, you need to find somethin' else to do with your life."
Cathy wasn't one to eat in front of others when the others aren't eating, so her bag was rolled up and she ignored it. "I can't imagine doing anything else. Just feeling the lights on you and the entire audience is just waiting to hear your voice or watch you dance. There's nothing like it." She turned to Brigid and bit her lower lip. "How many have you been in?"
Brigid smiled faintly as she listened, recognising the same feeling for performance in herself as the other woman described. "Three or four," she admitted with a shrug, "outside of school. I couldn't begin to list the performances when we were in school." She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "And yourself, how many have you been with?"
"Well, I hate to admit this, but I think I'm at least a decade older than most of the people auditioning here. So I've been with six different companies. Everything off Broadway, though." Cathy shrugged and put her hand to her face. "I don't look old, do I?"
By contrast, Brigid looked positively rough and ready in her light jeans and pink shirt, blue sneakers on her feet and her rehearsal kit stowed away in the bag over her shoulder. Her own past shoulder-length mop of brunette waves was barely tameable at the best of times, and the hours she'd spent sitting near the beauty at the picnic table during the auditions today had only served to highlight just how low maintenance she really was herself. But ice queen or not, Brigid wasn't one to pass up an opportunity to make a friend of someone. She moved over to the immaculately turned out Cathy, waving a hand to get her attention. "Evenin'," she greeted warmly. "Don't suppose you know the best route to Ivy Heights from here?"
Cathy may have seemed unapproachable, but that was hardly the case. When one of the other dancers approached her, she turned and removed her sunglasses. She smiled brightly and canted her head slightly. "I'm sorry, I'm fairly new to this area myself. My name is Cathy." She extended her hand to the woman. "How are the auditions going for you?" Cathy's own bag of goodies was tucked neatly under the table beside her feet.
Brigid's hand was quick to slide into Cathy's with a firm squeezing shake as her smile brightened further. "I'm Brigid," she introduced herself, insinuating one leg beneath the table to straddle the bench next to her new companion. Her bag thumped onto the ground easily. "Auditions are the same, no matter where you go," she added with a shrug. "It's just a matter of bullin' it out." Her smile turned cheeky. "And they're just startin' up, it isn't like they can turn us all away for bein' awful just yet."
"I've watched you dance. You're going to make it." Cathy nodded with a smile. "I mean, you know the ones that aren't going to. They don't have that drive, you know" I mean, did you see the guy in the pink and yellow tights" He couldn't even keep balanced on two feet, much less doing anything else." She laughed softly and picked up her lunch bag. "I've got a turkey sandwich if you want some."
Brigid snickered quietly, rolling her eyes at the memory of the same guy, who'd bulled his way in and then managed to sabotage any attempt at taking the audition seriously for any of them. Even the woman who'd been running the group had had a hard time keeping her face straight. "Yeah, I know," she nodded in agreement, waving off the offer of a sandwich with a smile. "But then, if you've gone through all the trainin' and still don't have the drive, you need to find somethin' else to do with your life."
Cathy wasn't one to eat in front of others when the others aren't eating, so her bag was rolled up and she ignored it. "I can't imagine doing anything else. Just feeling the lights on you and the entire audience is just waiting to hear your voice or watch you dance. There's nothing like it." She turned to Brigid and bit her lower lip. "How many have you been in?"
Brigid smiled faintly as she listened, recognising the same feeling for performance in herself as the other woman described. "Three or four," she admitted with a shrug, "outside of school. I couldn't begin to list the performances when we were in school." She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "And yourself, how many have you been with?"
"Well, I hate to admit this, but I think I'm at least a decade older than most of the people auditioning here. So I've been with six different companies. Everything off Broadway, though." Cathy shrugged and put her hand to her face. "I don't look old, do I?"