Practicing Old Lines (closed, Nikki)

The auditorium was dark. Well, mostly. There were a few lights on, all of these centered on the stage. The rest of the room was completely dark. Of course, there was only one figure in the room. The one standing in the center of the lights. It was the Saturday after the first week of classes and MacKenzie had come to the auditorium to polish his own acting skills. In his mind, he had no right teaching young minds how to act if he could no longer do it. He was still on the stage, as though waiting for a cue. There was absolute silence. Finally, his lips parted:

"To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation"

His voice filled the room...Although it was not of a tone his students would recognize. It was distant and almost hopeless. An air of sorrow seemed to fill the stage as he shifted, his form taking on a much more proud stance. Yet, there seemed to be anguish pounding down on his shoulders and there was pain in his voice. To an onlooker, he might've appeared to be a young prince from Denmark...Or perhaps just a man. Who knew what an observer would see?

"Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;"

Word for word, line by line, he spoke one of the most famous monologue's Shakespeare ever wrote. There was no script in his hand and there was no uncertainty in his voice. He knew his monologue by heart. After all, he still got the odd offer to play this tragic prince. It was every actor's dream and very few got to attain said dream at such a young age. After all, it was considered the height of every Shakespeare's career. Most of the men who played Hamlet these days were in their forties or fifties. MacKenzie had been one of the few in the Shakespearian circle to ever get to play Hamlet before he was thirty. Was it due to his skill? Perhaps, but he always said he was just passionate about the role.

"For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,"

He wasn't even dressed properly for the part and yet he held it well. For sure, if there was any audience at all, they would not be able to take their eyes off of him. Once upon a time, he'd been a very handsome youth and he'd been very in love. Much like Hamlet himself. Unfortunately, things took a turn for the worse and his love was torn apart. However, his fate was not parallel to the Prince's, for he still lived. As he spoke the words of a doomed man, MacKenzie's lost youth seemed to reappear. He fell further into the role, although he did not let himself become the character. To do that would ensure he'd push too far. He'd seen unpolished crystals fall apart because they could not separate themselves from the characters they were playing.

"But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?"

He had also seen actors rise to fame, actors who didn't deserve it. The world was unfair and it would remain as such for the rest of his lifetime. He had no doubts about that. Movies painted a lie. That karma would eventually come around and deal back the pain and hurt to those who had dealt it to others. Such things never happened, as MacKenzie knew very well. It was also very rare that a struggling actor received a break from one of the top agents. He'd seen young women lose their passion for acting as it was sapped from them due to the hardships of life. MacKenzie knew this would happen to some of his students, and he knew that all he could do was teach them how to act properly...Although, graduating from Harriman would probably give them a better chance then some other young people out in the world.

"Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!"

Ok, it was time to stop thinking such depressing thoughts. How in the world MacKenzie could act the part of Hamlet so flawlessly while part of his mind was elsewhere would remain a mystery to the world. He'd done it countless times when on stage. When he mentioned it, some people asked if acting bored him. He would glance at those questioners in disbelief and respond. "I live for that second before you step on stage or just as the curtain rises. That one second that could make or break an actor...When you don't know if you're gonna trip on the way out or mess up your lines. It is the most exciting and frightening moment in my life. And I wouldn't give it up for the entire world."

"The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd."

MacKenzie fell silent and found himself on the opposite side of the stage from where he'd first started. He was half turned towards the audience and the rest of the stage, as though reluctant to face what was to come. Slowly, MacKenzie relaxed his stance and then returned center stage and bowed to the empty auditorium.

Nikki had come to the Auditorium looking for Mr. Butler, and she had found him. She lurked in the back as she came in. He had taken the stage and was doing the solilquy from Hamlet. He took the words of a long dead poet and made them live again. She suddenly understood what Hamlet was trying to say more than when she had just read the words on the page. That was the beauty of Shakespeare, it was over 400 years old but the themes and stories were still valid today. Then she realized again what she was here to do, and the nerves started again. She needed to talk to Mr. Butler and see if she could convince him to allow her into at least the intermediate drama program, even if she hadn't done the beginning classes. She had done some acting in musicals, but her vocal talent wasn't going to carry her much longer, she was going to have to get more drama training. So here she was, all she had to do was convince him that she deserved to be in the intermediate class instead of the beginners. The only problem is that she thought that he was too gorgeous for words and she had a hard time talking when he was around.

"Mr. Butler?" She called, she would have to do the acting job of her life so that she didn't let on that she was so nervous. "C-could I talk to you for a minute?" She started walking toward the stage. Just ignore the nerves. You know what you're going to say, just say it. She kept telling herself this. "I need to get your signature on my application to join your intermediate classes. I've done some acting before but I haven't taken any of the classes here at Harriman, but I really don't want to have to go through the beginning classes if I really don't have to. But if I can join your classes I would work really hard and I'd really appreciate it." She said really quickly, not looking directly at him, hoping to get it all out before she froze and couldn't speak. She looked up at him and suddenly she realized she was in the same room as him and they were by themselves. She didn't know what to do. Should she dash from the room, or just faint now.

A voice pierced the darkness of the auditorium. Surprise filled MacKenzie as he straightened slowly. Hmm...Who could that be? He recognized the voice. The letter N came to mind. Had she been in any musicals? Perhaps, or maybe it was that she was one of the music students that had been brought to his attention. Nikki. That was it. He knew he'd known her from somewhere. Currently he couldn't entirely place her. She must've, he thought, been in at least one of the musicals he'd put on. Slowly, he stepped to the edge of the stage and took a seat. His legs hung over the side and he was quite relaxed once more. All traces of Hamlet were gone from his posture and expression. Now, he looked interested and curious. He was about to answer her question, when she continued, explaining exactly why she was there. An interesting request. He studied the shape of her, though he couldn't quite see her due to the glare of the stage lights. "That's an interesting request, Nikki. Before I could give you a signature, I would need to see the extent of your skills. I want to be sure, mind you, that you have the skills needed for the intermediate classes."

He smiled and hopped off the stage. Heading her way, he continued to think aloud. "Are there any plays or musicals you're fairly comfortable with? Preferably plays, since we both know you're a capable singer. I want to see your acting more than anything else right now. So, I'm willing to see you in a role you're comfortable with and then I'll give you a role you don't know. Not to be cruel, I just want to assess your ability to step into other roles." Reaching her, he stopped and offered his hand. "Shall we?" A playful smile lit up his features, his eyes twinkling in the near-darkness.

She took his hand, hers was cool and damp with nervous sweat and his was warm and dry. "I'll need a script, I don't think that I can remember any long speeches without at least looking it over. I did Katherina in Taming of the Shrew once, I think I can do justice to her final speech, if that's okay?" He gestured over at the bookcase that held hard back editions of many plays. She pulled out a book of Shakespearian plays and flipped through until she found the correct page. She took a deep breath and started.

"Fie, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow,
And dart not scornful glances from those eyes
To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor:
It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,
Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
And in no sense is meet or amiable." She played to the air, imaging that her sister Bianca stood there.

"A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance commits his body
To painful labour both by sea and land,
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands
But love, fair looks, and true obedience;
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foul contending rebel
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?--" Her voice became a bit more strident. She paced and used most of the stage to command the audience attention to herself. Then her voice softened a bit.

"I am asham'd that women are so simple
To offer war where they should kneel for peace,
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,
Unapt to toll and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions and our hearts
Should well agree with our external parts?" She finished the quiet part of her speech, and got ready to raise her voice again.

"Come, come, you froward and unable worms!
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great, my reason haply more,
To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
But now I see our lances are but straws,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
That seeming to be most which we indeed least are." At this point she threw herself on the stage and slid, her hand and arm outstretched until her hand was just in front of Mr. Butler's foot. The book was clenched in her other hand.

"Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
And place your hands below your husband's foot:
In token of which duty, if he please,
My hand is ready; may it do him ease." She laid there panting just a little bit, not quite knowing how he was going to take this scene. Hopefully she had impressed him.

He settled back to watch her. Once she'd chosen a book, he was no longer needed. So he fell back, letting her control the stage. Taming of the Shrew was certainly an interesting choice. Shakespeare was one of his favorite playwrights. He had to give her some points just for picking a play by his favorite writer. Not that that would give her an automatic shoo-in into any of his advanced classes. For that, she'd have to sink or swim all on her own, with her talent. Her lips parted and the words fell free. MacKenzie was immediately taken with the way she spoke. Her voice had changed, her stance had changed. It was rather nice. Not that she was perfect...No, but she had the possibility to be great. MacKenzie wondered vaguely if she'd ever thoughts of pursuing a career in theater.

Just from what he was observing, Nikki Johns could one day be great. Of course, she'd have to break her way into the business, but setting that aside, she had what it took to go a long way. Or at least, the beginnings of what it took. It was right of her to come to him. She'd completely taken control of the stage. If there was an audience, MacKenzie felt that all the attention would be on the young lady performing before him. However, should he elevate her from beginner's courses or not? That was the real question here. That was why she was performing. He almost flashed a grin as Hamlet's most famous lines flashed through his mind. 'To be or not to be?' Now that truly was the real question. Silencing his amusement, he once more focused all of his attention on Nikki.

Of course that happened to be the second when she flung herself onto the stage. He kept his surprise from showing even as her arm reached towards his foot, her hand a mere heartbeat away from touching him. What a passionate thing to do, really. As the last word fell from her lips, MacKenzie knew he could not shame her by leaving her there with nothing.

"Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate." Without any warning, he reached down, caught her hand in his and pulled her to his feet. Then, as the play demanded, his lips met hers. He did not maintain the kiss for terribly long, he did not want to upset her after all. When he pulled away again and carefully released her, he was smiling. "That was fantastic, Nikki! One of the best performances of Katherina I've seen in a long time. You inspired me to finish the scene, not many can do that." He paced away from her, deep in thought. To set her loose in the advanced class or polish her up in a beginner's class. What could she handle?

Suddenly he was pulling her to her feet and then he kissed her. She had forgotten how the scene ended and certainly hadn't expected that. She blushed bright red at the thought that a teacher, and this teacher in particular had kissed her. It had been a fantasy that he would do something like that but she had never dreamed that this would happen. She had had a bit of a crush on him since he started teaching, and to have your crush actually kiss you was heaven, but it was also frightening. What if it really meant something, instead of just being part of the scene. That was it, it was just part of the scene. She wondered however, he didn't have to do that, he could have just said the line. Could it be? No she wouldn't be that lucky. Her mind was reeling with possibilities for a moment.

She looked up at him as he walked away. "So Mr. Butler," she asked in a rather breathless voice, trying to get herself back under control, "Will you sign my permission slip?"

Some people might wonder why he had kissed her. She was his student. To be in a relationship with his student was forbidden after all. Not to worry, he was well aware of that. However, he'd never faltered in a role before and he wasn't about to start now. She'd inspired him, he had finished the scene. If really meant something, Nikki would've known of it. MacKenzie definitely cared for the girl, she was really sweet, but he wasn't going to give up his heart again. Not after...her. In any case, worrying about something as simple as a kiss was not part of MacKenzie's life style. So, he simply kept moving-mentally, at least.

Physically, he had stopped in the middle of the stage to ponder the choices available to him. Her breathless voice tugged at his attention and he turned back to her. "Well, you've definitely got skills, Nikki. You need some polishing, though..." Trailing off, his gaze turned inward, remembering the way she had slipped into Katherina's character. He nodded to himself. "Alright, I'll sign it. But you must work very hard, Nikki. You have skills but you're not yet at the same level your peers will be at. Can you promise me you'll work hard?" His stern expression gentled. "Don't worry, if ever you feel overwhelmed, just talk to me. I'll help you in any way I can."

"Thank you Mr. Butler, you won't regret it, you'll see, I'll work extra hard." she gushed as she handed him the permission slip. She daydreamed while she waited for him to sign it. What was she letting herself in for? Could she actually do it? Of course she could. She had been onstage in several musicals and had taken some acting classes back home, and she had obviously impressed him or he wouldn't have decided to let her even try. Well if she didn't do well, she would just have to go to college and take more drama. Or she would go to Hollywood anyway and take lessons there or go to Broadway and try to break in there. Or she could just start a band and work her way up that way and just give up on the broadway idea. She was also a professional artist, perhaps she could sell enough pieces through a gallery or museum to support herself. You can call yourself a professional if you have sold at least one piece, can't you?

He laughed. "I know you will." MacKenzie took the permission sleep and studied it. He hadn't gotten one of these in a while..Or rather, he hadn't agreed to sign one of these in a long, long time. Like, perhaps never. So, he had to re-figure out where his signature went. It took him a second, but he found the designated line. With a flourish, he signed the permission slip and then put his pen back into the pocket he'd found it in. He offered Nikki the permission slip, her key into his tougher classes.

She'd be fine, he knew. Jane Johnson was in all of his classes and she'd take her fellow seventh year under her wing.