The door swings open, revealing Joshua. He’s wearing one of those tattered sweaters that look like they’re from the garbage but really cost a thousand dollars. “Ah, August, I was going to come check up on you,” he says with a cheesy smile.

I stand up, holding my box. “My parents were going to send me to conversion therapy. That’s why I left Pennsylvania.”

His face registers shock. “I didn’t know that,” he says.

“I didn’t tell you that.”

Joshua enters the dressing room and leans against the sink. “Why are you telling me now?”

“Because at my audition, you asked why I was qualified to play the part. If my parents had their way, I’d be in conversion therapy right now. But I’m not, I’m here with you, and that makes me qualified to understand Ajax in a way you never will.”

Joshua throws his hands in the air dismissively. “I’m so sick of this representation stuff,” he says, and I nearly drop my box in horror. “An actor doesn’t need to directly experience what the character is going through. I’m sorry, August, you just aren’t giving me what I want.”

“I’ll never give you what you want,” I say, keeping my voice steady and low. “You want Chris Caesar and his followers.”

He crosses his arms. “Yes, I know, it’s so wild for me to want an established actor to play a role. What an irrational concept! But I can’t because of representation.” He puts air quotes around representation.

“What you don’t seem to understand,” I say, gripping my box like a shield, “is that people want to see roles played by the people who have lived experience.”

I learned the term “lived experience” last night from Davina.

Joshua rolls his eyes. “I disagree,” he says flatly.

“Representation is important because these are our stories to tell, so let us tell them.”

“Then why can you play Rizzo?” he asks.

Davina and I didn’t prepare for that one. I shift my weight between my feet while thinking. I want to make up a story, but I stay honest. “I played the part for my parents.”

“That makes it okay?” he asks defiantly.

“Before this show, how many transgender characters have you had in your productions?”

“None.”

“Exactly,” I say.

“Actually, one. I did Rent.”

“One character out of twenty shows?”

He scans his résumé in his head. “Thirty.”

“And you question how a trans or nonbinary actor could make a career with that lack of representation? We need more roles, but we also need to be hired when we are the best person for the role.”

“Maybe you aren’t the best one for this role,” he says.