Page 3 of Missing Linc
“Shut up, dude,” she says and pushes me away. “I wasn’t complaining. Anyway. We’re about to start. Take a seat. We’ll catch up later. Drinks?”
I shrug and take the seat she offers me.
Oh I want to go out for drinks, but Makayla still hasn’t forgotten that I slept over Isaac’s again a few weeks ago, so I don’t know if I should push those buttons again.
The auditions go well, although we do get a lot of duds as it happens when you have open calls. But they help me get into the spirit of the play, especially considering some of the performances are stage-ready.
We still haven’t discussed the details with Lenka. Mainly, what kind of role she wants me to have in this production, how big or small, and, of course, the money. Not that I’m too concerned about money. There isn’t much in indie theater, so I’m not expecting miracles. Besides, I have a great job at New Harlow University, so I’m not complaining.
Two hours pass and Lenka says she thinks we’ve probably got the best of the bunch, which means we can probably cast the whole show after today.
We just have one last person to see.
The door opens and a short, young man walks in with a backpack on one shoulder, a pink T-shirt bundled into a knot a little over his belly button, and matching pink sneakers with blue jeans.
His hair is slightly longer than last time I saw him, but that was almost four months ago. Of course it has grown.
He comes to stand center-stage and pauses when he sees me. His eyes… I can’t tell their shade—I’m too far away—but they shine at me despite that. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they can see into my soul.
But that’s just bullshit.
“Your name?” Lenka says beside me, pulling the kid out of his daze and me out of whatever concussion I’m suffering from.
Because there’s no other explanation as to why this guy makes me think of things I’ve never really thought before.
“Camden Hawkins,” he replies. “You can call me Cam.”
Camden.
A beautiful name.
For a beautiful man.
Shut up, Linc. You’ve got a fiancée.
And you’re not gay!
Why do I have to keep reminding myself that?
“And you’re auditioning for the role of Justin?” Lenka asks.
Camden nods, and Lenka gives him the go-ahead.
I’m not sure what he’s doing here. I thought he was a dancer. Why is he auditioning for a play? Especially one with no dancing whatsoever?
He undoes the knot on his shirt so it drops, creased, over his stomach, covering it, and he takes a deep breath.
Justin’s part is very dramatic, very deep and emotional. Somehow I can’t see this guy, Camden, being anything but… a breath of fresh air.
And yet I’m wrong. Heprovesme wrong. Hecanpull it off.
In fact, out of all the Justins we’ve seen, he’s the best, and that’s no small feat. We’ve seen professional and seasoned actors. And yet he’s the one that knocks it out of the park. This guy who’s…
I look down at Lenka’s hands and Camden’s resumé.
Twenty.
How can a twenty year old give such a dramatic role so much gravitas, and why isn’t he in my program? Why is he studying dance? His talent is wasted in the dance department. Although I can easily imagine him gliding through the air with grace and dignity, so who am I to decide what he’s wasting his talents on?
