Page 38 of The Snag List
Roe sensed this was bait but she couldn’t help but take it. ‘What are you getting at?’
‘Oh, nothing, it just must be demanding. Fitness-wise.’
Roe narrowed her eyes. Did he seriously just say that? She sensed the lens of the camera dilate as the camera woman zoomed in on her irritation.
‘Fitness-wise I’m well able, thank you. Has it occurred to you that I might be fitter than you? That my size doesn’t actually dictate my fitness, Seb?’
He grinned eagerly – he was obviously getting what he wanted. ‘This is perfect, Roe. Maybe don’t acknowledge me by name in your comments, OK? This is great, keep going. Do you find people underestimate you a lot, Roe? Because of your size maybe?’
Goddammit, he was loving this, and Roe had fallen straight into his trap. Any bit of controversy was the bread and butter of even the most family-orientated reality show. Still, it suddenly occurred to Roe that she’d rarely seen a fat girl triumph on a reality-TV show before. In fact, there were entire TV shows dedicated to ‘fixing’ women like her. She momentarily forgot about her resolve to give them nothing. She’d give them something all right.
‘I’m really excited to audition today. Lots of people at home are probably used to seeing women like me on reality shows likeThe Biggest Loser, and I’m here to show everyone that I am not and will never be the biggest loser. I sing and dance and act. I’m a triple threat and I’m here to nail this audition. And truly, from the bottom of my beautiful fat heart, fuck theBiggest Loser– wait, can I say “fuck”? Oh, who cares.’ She glared directly into the camera and grinned. ‘Also fuck anyone who thinks I can’t dance because I’m a fat girl.’
Seb punched his fist above his head. ‘Brilliant, Roe. That was gold. Can we try that again without the fucks?’
But Roe was already storming back towards the stage. ‘No probs,’ he called after her, ‘we can bleep them out!’
‘How did that go?’ Danny and Mags rushed towards her. ‘I love how you were all “no way” to theGlee Meidea and then straight in the second you got a chance,’ Danny mugged.
‘Well, someone’s gotta rep the odd squad with all these normies around.’ Roe laughed.
‘Hey, sorry to interrupt.’ Seb, clutching his clipboard, had apparently tailed her and was now looking at them all with interest. ‘I’m looking for someone to give a pithy but savage run-down of the Life and Soullers – would that be any of you?!’
Danny gave a worldly sigh. ‘I’ll take this one. Mags would be too bitchy for network television. I’ll need some blush though. I’ll be over in a mo.’
‘Divine.’ Seb ticked something off on his clipboard and scurried back to the camera operator.
Danny vogued savagely. ‘I am so ready for my close-up but is middle Ireland ready?’ and then stormed over to Ailbhe’s make-up station.
‘Life and Soullers who are auditioning for female leads, back at your marks, please,’ Róisín was bellowing around the room as the various hopefuls hurried towards the stage. ‘This audition is arguably more important than the singing one, gang. Everyone here can sing, we know that. And acting is a skill I can beat into you, but if you can’t dance then you will not be doing much more than shifting scenery and getting my cold brew. Right, in a line and from the top. This will be round one of the dance tryouts.’
Roe hurried to the back row. She wasn’t a bad dancer but they were coming to the routine cold. Luckily they were dancing to the 1976 UK winner ‘Save Your Kisses for Me’, which was a pretty chill mid-tempo. It would, per the lyrics, most likely just involve a lot of blowing of kisses and waving bye-bye. The music began and, following Róisín’s lead at the front of the stage, Roe snapped her hips back and forth then spun to the right during the ‘ooohs’ before landing back at centre stage for the chorus. The next verse involved an elegant drop to the floor, with toes pointed to lead in to a couple of tricky fan kicks. The whole company finished on jazz hands and Róisín looked satisfied.
‘Right, I’ve seen enough. If I call out your number, you can sit down: 11, 23, 6, 14 …’
Roe nervously held her breath. She was number 13; Denise was 8. If Denise was told to sit down, she’d know that was the group that was getting through this round. Denise always got through. She was just the type.
‘And 4, 24, 7 and 9, sit down. OK.’ Róisín surveyed the remaining choir members. Seb Knox appeared at her elbow and leaned in to whisper in her ear.
Roe glanced around. About ten of them were still up. Was she going to have to sing on her own? Dance on her own? She didn’t feel ready for that.
‘Roe!’ She jolted. It was Mags sitting down to her right and miming for her to smile. Her thoughts must’ve been playing out all over her face. She jammed a manic smile in place just as Róisín waved Seb Knox off and two more camera men took up positions at the front and side of the group.
‘Right. Those of you still standing … Buckle UP! As you know, musical theatre is about stamina. A musical is a feat of endurance. A test of strength both physical and mental. Musical theatre is tougher than childbirth, a marathon and sitting through the entireLord of the Ringsfranchise put together. No one will be on that stage who hasn’t proven themselves. These auditions are vital to weed out the weak, to suss who has the chops for the lead roles and who will be,’ Róisín looked mildly disgusted as she finished, ‘in supporting parts.’
Obviously Seb Knox had told her to ham it up – it wasn’t really in the spirit of the Life and Soullers to denigrate people who play the smaller roles in any kind of production. This was clearly Róisín’s version of the opening monologue ofFameand it was making Roe nervous. What was she going to have them do?
‘We’re going to do the same number again, only this time I want singing and dancing. At the same time.’
A gasp buzzed through the crowd.
‘Wait,’ Róisín shouted, one hand raised to halt the giddy murmuring. ‘I wasn’t finished. I want singing and dancing at the same time. And it’s last man standing.’
‘Oh my fuck,’ Danny squealed from his spot beside Seb before being silenced by a look from Róisín. ‘Sorry,’ he called, clamping a hand to his mouth.
Roe’s thoughts raced. Last man standing as in …
‘You will sing and dance the number over and over until there is just one performer left.’ Róisín glared at the group.
