I had only ever snuck into the dorms once before, and it was years ago. There was a double door at the front that required two keys, and then a key to each floor as well as your own dorm room key. So nothing prepared me for the beauty I was met with when I entered the lobby.
On all sides of the security desk were murals; stunning and colorful and ceiling high. In seemingly random, yet perfect spots were headshots and photographs of students and productions long past, staring back at me with contented eyes and happy smiles. I instantly felt at home and comfortable. So at home, in fact, that I walked right by the desk without checking in.
“Excuse me!” A girl called out to me as I walked by, and I turned, sharply. “Do you live here?”
“Uh…I’m new, but yes? I think so?” I replied. She smiled, reaching out her hand.
“I’m Sheena.”
“Amy,” I said, carefully juggling my load to shake it. “I’m uh…I don’t know where I’m going.”
“Are you a senior?” she asked brightly, and I nodded. “And what course stream are you?”
“Uh…” I paused. “I’m the scholarship winner?”
“OH!” Her eyes lit up. “You’re the winner. Congrats then! You’re in the theater wing. Do you have your room number? I can take you.”
“Sure,” I handed her my key, and she started down the hall. “What uh…other wings are there?”
“That’s the dance wing, there,” she said, pointing down one hall way. “And the musical wing is that one, off to the left. And then the technical wing, for all things not on stage,” she pointed to a hallway behind her. “It’s more for organizational purposes, you know … like all the dancers can easily have a meeting in their common room, and all the actors can have rehearsal in their hall way. It’s not really cliquey or anything, we all hang out all the time and we all take some cross -stream classes.” She was leading me towards an elevator, which opened with my key. Getting inside, she pressed the 6th floor button. “The higher you go, the older the students are. Makes it easier for the dorm mothers to manage. You’re on the second highest floor - the one above you is more of a hotel, reserved for visiting artists and such.”
“What’s your story?” I asked, and she gave me a sad smile.
“I came here when I was six, as a dancer. But when I was fifteen, I injured my IT band and killed my career.”
“Oh!” My eyes widened. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s ok,” She shrugged. “It happens to a lot of dancers. I spent a few years abroad and then came back here, and took a job managing this place. It makes me feel like I’m involved again. Here we are.”
The elevator opened to a crowd of giggling girls, who greeted Sheena and then got in as we exited.
“Hey, Tammy, there’s a package for you at the front desk,” Sheena called, and the girl called Tammy nodded, as the doors closed and we continued down the hallway. “And, 66.” She popped the key in the door, and opened it.
I gasped when I saw the inside of my room. There was a bed, a kitchen and a bathroom all crammed into a small space to make room for the living room. It held a barre running against one wall, with floor to ceiling mirrors, and hardwood floors. There was a bureau with lights around the mirror, and an extensive makeup kit, as well as a large closet with every type of hanger you could imagine. The lights in the room were all on dimmer switches that looked more complicated than some theater sound boards.
“Even when you sleep, you practise. All the rooms look like this. No one ever has an excuse to not work,” Sheena said, with a smile. My stuff was all in the center of the living room floor waiting to be unpacked. “Need anything else?”
“No, thanks,” I said, still looking around the room in awe.
“Alright, well, if you need me, I’m just a phone call away. It’s #1 on the phone,” she pointed to a houseline on the desk, and then gave me a smile, and left.
Alone in the room, I began to pull my stuff out of boxes, folding it carefully to fit in the drawers and cupboards. This place was bigger than my room at home, and I knew it was going to look sparse when I was done. However, it was my place and the very thought of that sent chills down my spine.
“Knock, Knock!”
I turned, startled, to find Liam at my door.
“Liam!” I said, before I could stop myself. “Er...I mean...Mr Swift.”
“Liam is fine.” He said, leaning against the door way with a smirk. “They told me you were finally moving in, and I wanted to make sure you had your class schedule for tomorrow.”
“Sure.” I said, looking at the desk where I had unfolded it. “I have Shakespeare in the morning, and then Theater History right after it. In the afternoon, there’s a whole block to be in the senior theater.”
“Sounds right,” he said, watching me unpack. “There should be a script for a practice show in one of your drawers. I want you to go over it before tomorrow, if you have time. We won’t perform it in full, but we’ll take it to a workshop level in class.”
“Right,” I said, looking up at him. I couldn’t believe how fast my heart was beating. Here I was, standing a few feet away from one of the biggest movie stars on the planet (or at least, he used to be), and about to start theater school.
“I brought you this,” he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a newspaper. My eyes widened as I recognized our picture on the front.
“Oh wow!” I couldn’t stop myself from ripping it from his hands, and he laughed at my excitement.
“Your first tabloid cover,” he said, watching as I read it. They didn’t have much information on me, but it had paragraphs about past scholarship winners, including, to my surprise, a familiar name.
“Porsche De Ritter had a dance scholarship here?” I asked, looking up at him. He grinned at the mention of her name.
“She did. Took it right out from under thousands of hopefuls, stayed three months, and then was recruited to the Russia National Ballet. Please stay longer than three months,” he said, turning his megawatt grin on me. I was surprised by this personality that was emerging from Liam. All the other times, I had seen him, he was emotionless; his jaw set, barking orders at people. But now, alone in my room, he was showing me his sense of humor and a laid back side of him I never would have guessed. I was flattered that he would even bother to come check in on me, when there were hundreds of students in this school. But still, there he was.