The lights dim, and the noise in the theater dies down. The curtain rises, and the play begins. Kelsey steps onto the stage shortly after the play begins. From the first moment, she captivates the audience with her presence. Her performance is flawless, every line is delivered with emotion and precision. I can’t help but feel a surge of pride for my best friend. She’s a natural born performer. I understand that pre-law is her major but as she stands on that stage, I can’t help but think that she was born to do this.
Throughout the play, I occasionally glance at Kelsey’s parents. Her mother, with her impeccably styled hair and tailored suit, watches with a critical eye, occasionally whispering to her husband. Her father, equally well-dressed, nods occasionally but maintains a stern expression. I can sense their scrutiny, and it makes me anxious for Kelsey.
Ryan leans in and whispers, “She’s amazing. Has she acted before?”
I shake my head, unable to take my eyes off Kelsey. “No, never.”
The play reaches its climax, and Kelsey’s final scene leaves the audience in awe. As the curtain falls, the theater erupts in applause. I stand, clapping enthusiastically as Ryan and others in the crowd follow suit. It’s as if the crowd knows that they witnessed something special.
I barely wait for the house lights to come back on before telling Ryan, “Let’s go find her.” Grabbing Ryan’s hand we make our way to the backstage area.
We navigate through the crowd, finally reaching Kelsey, who is surrounded by her castmates. Her face lights up when she sees us.
“Hailey! Ryan! You made it!” she exclaims, pulling us into a hug.
“You were incredible, Kelsey. Seriously, you were so amazing. You could have been in the movie, you were that good,” I gush, feeling a swell of pride that she’s my best friend.
“Aw thanks, guys. It means so much that you were here,” she replies, her eyes shining with happiness and maybe even a few unshed tears.
Just then, her parents approach. Her mother, looking stern, gives Kelsey a once-over. “Kelsey, you were good. But there were a few moments where you could have projected more,” she says, her tone more critical than congratulatory.
Her father nods in agreement. “And you need to work on your pacing. Some of the scenes felt rushed.”
I feel my heart sink for Kelsey, who stands there, taking in their feedback with a strained smile. Ryan squeezes my hand, sensing my discomfort.
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind for the next time,” Kelsey replies, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her hurt.
Her mother nods curtly. “Good. We just want you to do your best. Thank goodness this silly nonsense is just for fun though. Before you know it you’ll be clerking and this will all be a fun memory. Now, are you coming to dinner with us?”
Kelsey hesitates, glancing at me and Ryan. “Actually, I was supposed to spend some time with my friends tonight to celebrate the opening.”
Her parents exchange a look, clearly displeased. “Fine,” her mother says, a hint of disapproval in her voice. “We’ll talk more in the morning at breakfast.”
Her mother leans in for a kiss on the cheek and then her father gives a hug that consists of a small pat on the back with one arm around her. As they walk away, Kelsey lets out a sigh of relief. “Thanks for being here. I’m so sorry if you guys have plans already I just needed an out with them. I’m on a high and they clearly are not.”
“We completely understand. We’re more than happy to support you any way you need us,” Ryan says, giving her a reassuring smile. “You were fantastic tonight and deserve to be happy.”
Kelsey smiles, her confidence slowly returning. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“Why don’t we go celebrate?” I suggest, trying to lift her spirits. “I think you deserve a little treat.”
“That sounds perfect,” Kelsey agrees, her smile widening. Just give me a few minutes to get changed and wipe some of this makeup off.
After giving Kels a few minutes to get changed and cleaned up we walk down to a place where we can get dessert. I can’t help but be quiet as we walk. I’m proud of Kelsey for her performance, but I’m also frustrated by her parents’ harsh critiques. I know how much their approval means to her, and it hurts to see her so affected by their words. Before we open the front door to the dessert bar, I make a mental note to accompany her to breakfast in the morning if she’ll let me, because I feel like her parents will only have more negativity to spew at her.
We find a cozy corner booth and settle in. Ryan orders a round of lattes and a selection of pastries, and we spend the next hour talking and laughing. Kelsey gradually relaxes, the tension from her parents’ critique fading as she enjoys the company and tells us insider tips about which actor forgot a line and a stagehand tripped if we heard the loud noise.
“I’m really glad you guys are here,” Kelsey says, her voice sincere. “I needed this. It’s been a stressful few weeks.”
“I’m always going to be here for you, Kels,” I reply, squeezing her hand. “No matter what.”
“You did a great job,” Ryan says. “You have more people who believe in you than you think.”
Kelsey smiles, looking between us. “Thanks.” She gets a mischievous grin on her face. “You two are adorable together.”
I blush, glancing at Ryan, who grins at me.
As the evening draws to a close, I feel a sense of contentment. Despite the challenges and criticisms, Kelsey knows she’s not alone. We walk back to our dorm, chatting about the play and our plans for the weekend. As we reach our building, Kelsey turns to us. “Thanks again for tonight. I really needed this.”