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Hey guys! Sorry it has taken so long to post, but the school year is ending which means lots and lots of papers. But more will come soon. I hope you enjoy this next segement. Please review and tell me what you think!
The next morning was fiercely cold. While most students would not come in for several more hours, the dedicated theater troupe stood outside, waiting for the casting results. They were warriors on a battlefront, and although all working toward the goal of creating masterpiece theater, each one was set on their own plea to win a lead.
Spike liked to think he wasn’t part of the flock. He casually leaned against his car several yards away, a cigarette dangling from his mouth and wearing a thin, leather duster to keep him cold like the rest of them. He didn’t care about the results. Nope. He did not care.
And that was the very thought that made him look back up to see the group scurrying inside. Without thinking, Spike jumped up and ran to see the list inside as if getting there earlier somehow guaranteed a lead role. He saw them shuffle around in an attempt to see their names posted. He saw Mr. Giles and a Custodian standing off to the side and assumed they opened the school early just to post the list. Buffy was situated behind the herd with her eyes closed and fingers crossed. Spike didn’t know why she even bothered; she knew she was getting a part. Nonetheless, he found it interesting that she did not push like the others. It almost made her… graceful.
Spike shook his head in sudden distaste. She was in no way graceful; she was a complete diva and probably needed to be taught a lesson. He smiled at the change of thought.
After a few minutes of waiting for the crowd to disperse, Spike threw his arms up and pushed people out of the way in an attempt to see the list. He did not even want a big part because that would imply lots of lines and effort he wasn’t 100% willing to provide. Yet, he ran to it like the rest of them. It only took a few shoves to see the list clearly. Spike ran his finger through the smaller parts, but did not see his name listed. While he never wanted to be part of the show in the first place, he could not ignore the sudden stab of rejection.
Pushed back out of the group, Spike shook his head and wondered how the principal would react. Just as he began walking away, Lorne Hart bumped into him enthusiastically.
“Hey! Congrats on Lysander by the way. Who knew you had a little actor in you all along. You are going to be fantastico!” Spike looked at him as if he had horns growing out of his head.
“What?”
“What do you mean what? Don’t tell me your playing it humble.” Lorne smiled knowingly.
“No, I mean what are you talking about? I wasn’t listed.” Lorne’s smile faded for a moment, but came back full force.
“No! You got Lysander! The lead! Congratulations! Of course, I had my eye set on that role… but, like my mom says, you take what’s on your plate and pretend that it’s a cake. See you after school.” He waved emphatically and walked backwards until he reached the main doors. Spike shoved himself passed the irritated thespians to see the list:
Lysander: Spike Williams
Hermia: Willow Rosenberg
Helena: Buffy Summers
Demetrius: Angel Feins
Puck: Wesley Wyndam-Price
Oberon: Lorne Hart
Nick Bottom: Xander Harris
Titania: Cordelia Chase
Players:
Andrew Wells
Johnathan Levinson
Clem (?)
Faeries (Specifics TBA)
Glory Woodside
Ben Woodside
Amy Madison
Backstage:
Warren Meers
Adam Weber
Richie Wilkinson
Spike was confused. The lead? The thought of the amount of lines he would have to memorize jumped around his head. If only Lorne hadn’t told him; if only he had accepted the rejection. The fates had a funny way of screwing up his life, and this seemed no different. In the middle of this progression of thoughts, he saw Mr. Giles head off toward the Music wing. Spike ran to him.
“Mr. Giles?” he spoke out of breath. It had occurred to him that he should quit smoking, but he was never motivated enough to bother.
“Yes! Spike, you did great job. Congratulations! I am sure you will do fine.” He patted Spike on the back awkwardly and moved to leave again, but Spike continued.
“No. I mean, I’m grateful for the part and everything, but you don’t want as a lead. I’m not theater material. Can’t you just make me a player or something?” Mr. Giles began to clean his glasses with a white handkerchief in his pocket.
“Well… I, um… Spike, I can change your part… but are you sure that’s what you want? Because once I give it away there’s no giving it back.” Mr. Giles put his glasses back on and looked at Spike with a stern expression.
“Well, I, um…” Spike began, but he was interrupted by a high-pitched whine of a voice.
“No, Mr. Giles, you should do what he says. He wouldn’t be able to uphold the high standards you have for your shows. It would just be better if he had a role in the chorus.”
“Hey! I don’t want to sing!” Buffy Summers rolled her eyes in painful disapproval.
“You see? He doesn’t even understand theater speech!”
“Who the hell are you to say what I can and can’t do?” Spike couldn’t put his finger on why, but every single Buffy trait set him off. “I could learn a hundred of those lines if I wanted to!”
“Could not!”
“Could too!”
“Could not! I bet you couldn’t even perform in front of an audience. It’s a lot harder than you think, you know.”
“You know, I really doubt that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah!”
“I am going to take so much pleasure in watching you screw us all over.”
“”I’ll get you front row seats! No wait… you’ll be part of it!” he felt his eyes burn with fury.
“Well, you know what you can do with your stupid part, you can shove-“
“Children!” Mr. Giles abruptly caught their attention with a glare that would make a US Marine squirm. “Spike, do you want the part or not? I need you to be honest with me here because I will have no shenanigans in this production. None.” The teens looked at each other in disgust. Then, Spike smiled and puffed up his chest.
“I’ll take the part.”
“Wha-“ Buffy began, but Mr. Giles cut her off yet again.
“Miss Summers, you will of course respect Mr. Kingsley’ decision to remain in the play. I’m sure you will get along famously. Now, I have to get going. See you both after school!” he yelled as he walked away. Spike stood in front of her with a purely smug expression. She wanted to claw it off his face.
“I hate you.” She said quietly.
“Yeah, and you’re a basket of kittens.” They were both silent for a minute. Spike stared at his shoes, considering other insults he could respond with. When he looked up again, Buffy had her head down demurely.
“What?!” he said roughly. She looked up at him with red eyes and Spike’s stomach dropped a few centimeters. Nonetheless, he stood his ground.
“Please,” she said softly. “Please, don’t do this. I know there are a hundred different things you could do. Look, I need this show. I need it to get into college and I need it to get an agent and I need it to get my mom to finally support me in my choice to act for a living. And my dad… he… he has never even seen me try. But if it all goes wrong…” Buffy could not continue as she choked up. Spike looked her over.
“Bullshit.”
“What?!”
“Total bullshit. What, are you trying to use your acting skills to get me to quit?”
“You are insufferable.” She waved her arm in his face angrily.
“Maybe, but at least I’m not a geek with delusions of power. I’m not the one who is looked down on, luv.” He grinned maliciously at her downfall. She stared at him for a moment, nodded and walked away. Spike could have sworn he saw her tremble as she stalked off. He despised her more than anyone he knew, and she threw just as many insults his way and he did her.
So, why did he feel like such a jerk?
After School
“Welcome to A Midsummer Night’s Dream!” Mr. Giles raised his arms as he stood on the empty, dimly lit stage. The audience in the house of the auditorium clapped and whistled enthusiastically. Spike looked for signs of distress, but Buffy seemed just as enthusiastic as the rest. Thankfully, they had no classes together. Spike did not want a rematch quite so soon.
“Now, I know you all are very excited to begin, but we must explain the rules for new members of our troupe. Ok, in case you don’t know or remember, my name is Mr. Giles. Most of you will end up just calling me Giles and that is fine. This is Jenny,” he point to a pretty, younger woman to his left, “my stage manager. There are only five rules here as we are pretty lenient. One, all rules already in place at this school will also be followed here. Two, if you for some reason cannot make any rehearsals, dress rehearsals, or the show dates, you must tell me today. No exceptions. Three, no disruptions while we are working. You may do your homework or speak quietly with your neighbors, but, and do not test me on this, if you start a ruckus you will be asked to leave immediately. Four, have fun and take risks. We are all here because we want to be, so let’s have fun with our roles. And finally five, no smoking.
“Ok! Let’s get to it!” This received another round of applause; Spike thought that the group was too excited for his taste. “Now, can everyone grab a chair and come up here. We are going to do a read through. For those of you unsure of what that is, it is pretty self-explanatory as we are reading through the play.” The group below immediately got their stuff together and moved toward the stage. They were like an army in their movements: an army of thespians. Spike didn’t know if he should be scared or move along with them. He decided on the latter, but took his good time getting his chair up to the stage. By then, everyone was staring at him angrily.
“Mr. Williams, better late than never. With that said, don’t be late again. I’m not a mean guy, but I will be if I have to.” Spike nodded. It seemed that Giles had a dark side that he chose right then and there he never wanted to witness.
The read-through went by slowly. While some of the kids were well versed in Shakespearian language, others stumbled along without proper breaks in punctuation or iambic pentameter. Spike was surprised he remembered the term from his freshman English class. He was ok with the words, but had trouble understanding what they meant.
Practice ended around six o’clock: a full three hours after it began. When Spike got his backpack and jacket together, he saw Buffy across the stage doing the same. He walked over to her. For some reason he couldn’t understand in the least, he felt the need to apologize. Most people were gone by then.
“Summers.” He stated. Buffy lifted her head, narrowed her eyes and looked back down to her book bag. Neither spoke for a long time; with each minute, Spike’s impatience grew tenfold. “What, you aren’t even going to insult me now? And I thought we were growing as people.” He smiled at his successful torment, but the expression faltered when she stood up with a similar smile adorning her face.
“Thou art sick in the world’s regard, wretched and low, a poor unminded outlaw sneaking home.”(1).” Spike looked confounded. Buffy looked proud.
“Huh?” he spoke eloquently.
“Be not lost so poorly in your thoughts,” she continued to his bewildered expression (2).
“What are you on about?”
“You speak unskillfully: or, if your knowledge be more, it is much darkened in your malice,” she said as she walked away (3).
“Wait! What are you talking about?! Come back!” Buffy turned around one last time and smiled sweetly at him.
“Basically, my dear boy, I find the ass in compound with the major part of your syllables. (4)” Buffy curtseyed and left him in the auditorium alone. He at least understood the last one, but by the time he figured what it meant in context, he yelled out “Hey!” to the empty auditorium. He swore he heard Buffy Summers chuckling through the hallway.
Spike did not know whether he should be furious or amused. He decided to go along with his intuition and be amused, as he admired her knowledge of Shakespearian insults.
But he would be ready for rehearsal the next day. He was actually excited to trade insults again. He had never found an adversary so intriguing as Buffy.
He also decided he needed to leave the stage before all of his thoughts took on Shakespearian words.
Chapter End Notes:
Footnotes:
1. From Henry IV, part 1
2. From Macbeth
3. From Measure by Measurement
4. From Coriolanus
