Back Act Cool
Chapters (35)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Act One: New York
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Act Two: Grease
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Act Three: Conversion
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-One
  27. Twenty-Two
  28. Twenty-Three
  29. Twenty-Four
  30. Twenty-Five
  31. Acknowledgments
  32. About the Author
  33. Books by Tobly McSmith
  34. Back Ad
  35. About the Publisher

“Oh, August, I wish you would have called me yesterday. Are you okay?” she asks.

“Actually, I’m good. My parents did me a favor by leaving. Now I can take roles like Ajax in Conversion.”

“Does this role hit too close to home? Your fairy trans-sis is worried about you.”

“It’s just acting,” I reassure her. “I don’t use my own feelings or experience. I step into the character. And how could I turn down possibly going to Broadway?”

“That director sounds like a major asshole,” she says, probably sensing I’m not going to change my mind.

“I can handle assholes. I’ll be the bidet of the theater world!”

She laughs, gives me a hug. “Break a leg on your first day. Just make sure the director doesn’t break it first.”

“Thanks, fairy trans-sis!”

“And I’m serious, August. You’re dealing with a lot. Call me if you need me?”

“Of course,” I say, smiling. I know she’s worried about me, but I’m not worried. This was meant to be.

I get to Theater One—where Grease was greasing three days ago—and stop at the doors. This moment feels important. I’m about to walk into my first professional show. And if everything goes well, the Famous August Greene will go to Broadway.

I push the doors open, and organized chaos surrounds me. Way more people here than Grease. Actors on the stage, crew running around wearing headsets that would make Meena jealous, people making the sets, hanging the lights—it’s a small army.

“August?”

“Yes,” I say, spinning on my heels.

“Brady Finley,” the owner of the voice says, shaking my hand. His red hair is tangled around his stage manager headset. He seems less stressed than Meena. “I’m the assistant SM.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say.

“Can you come with me?” he asks, then turns before I answer. I follow behind him into the audience. He points at a seat. “Sit here.”

“Until when?” I ask.

“Until Joshua tells you otherwise,” he says, then walks off, talking into his headset.

I set my backpack down and sit in my assigned seat, feeling like I’m in time-out.

6:35 P.M.

Things start weird and stay weird. And I have sat here, in this seat, the entire time. Before rehearsal started, Brady introduced me to the cast, and everyone politely said hello. The energy was loose and fun until Joshua Downs entered the room. Then everyone got serious and quieted down. Joshua has enough personality to fill the entire theater. Most of the time, he paces around the aisles, sometimes the stage, talking loudly and yelling notes at the two assistant directors, who scribble them down.