CHAPTER 18 – The Gift of Giving

Compared to the chaos of her first two weeks, her weeks 3 and 4 flowed on like a mid-summer dream. As the temperature fell and the month drifted from August to September, the children of LAPA delved into the busy cycle of their conservatorial lifestyle, having nary an hour or two to spare each day to exercise the social ritual of teenagehood.

For Eppie Fontaine, life could not be better.

Eric found her a Media Manager, Mildred Morrow, from Sony Marketing, who could manage her online personas, and, to make matters easier for everyone, her manager was paid in-house. On her new iDevice, a long email from Mueller informed Eppie that Juliana Vaughan had completed her new vision for the Met: a fully immersive, wall-to-wall projection system with select songs and music to represent each of the Met’s collection of van Gogh’s works, concluding with a two-minute elegy by Eppie.

This meant that, on the Sunday, the 7th of October, she was invited to the Met to perform for a small but rare company of artworld bigwigs.

As a private function run by the infamously private Juliana Vaughan, the event would not bring her great public renown, à la the Met Gala, but it would give her an opportunity to show off her face to industry insiders and maybe build some rapport for the future.

That and $2000 dollars.

This would normally go straight into her own pocket, but Eppie remained paranoid that she would disturb the Chain of Being that is her dormant and happily functioning [System].

Theatre continued to be an absolute hoot. In Week 3, they visited the Los Angeles Zoo, and Mrs Seyrova asked the students to study a single animal so that they would take on the likeness of that creature on stage. While many people chose lions and cheetahs, Eppie was mesmerised by the sight of a giant bird called the Shoebill—and readily performed her rendition of Atticus Finch as a giant, stalking bird, clucking at her audience, transforming the classroom into rolling tides of breathless laughter.

In Week 4, the vibe changed. Week 4 saw the release of the Casting Call roles for the Fall Showcase. For the Juniors, the roles available were as follows:

Three Antigones, for those who want to try their hand at defying the laws of man.

Three Creons, for those who uphold the legalistic rule of man.

Two Ismene, for those who wanted to portray the soft power of femininity.

One Haemon, who dies of heartbreak.

One Tiresias, the blind prophet whose words foretell the tragedy.

Chorus, between twelve and fourteen students. There are three “Leader of the Chorus” roles.

Technical Crew, assorted, ten to twelve students.

When not playing their roles, all acting students automatically become the Chorus.

With the announcement, week 4 shifted into high gear, with the acting classes diving into the devilish details of a full-scale stage production. Some of the students have already resigned themselves to the labour of Technical Theatre and Design, and the class’s tempo has moved to match the marching orders.

As Juniors, they were not yet clearly split into actors and crew, and so all were taught the intricacies of shop etiquette. These manifested as the “crew hours”, an extra set of theatre classes that were mandatory for the Theatre major.

There, for the first time in her life, Eppie wielded a Mitre Saw, measured out blocks to cut on the Table Saw, and finally, took immense pleasure in the Black and Decker Pneumatic Staple Gun. She re-learned how to use C-Clamps and safety cables from when she had a few years of avid rock climbing, and saw how lighting functioned first-hand. Like the others, she was giving it a go, but failed to fully understand the ETC Express console.

It came as a great shame to Eppie then that it was only in week 5 that she finally learned the names of the kids who rarely volunteered for roles within their first few classes.

Their Stage Manager was a Sophomore who looked like he could graduate tomorrow and be a chartered accountant, a boy called Cameron Atkinson. It was Atkinson who brought the group together to make the “bible” known as the Prompt Book—a binder that contained the Marked Script for the three scenes, with blocking, lighting, and musical cues yet to be fully cued in. Cameron was assisted by a mousy blonde by the name of Sage Copeland, one of Madison’s crew.

The Sound Crew consisted of a boyish girl, Kimberly Kemp, and a quiet, goth-coded boy by the name of Harrison “The Raven” Duncan, who, despite his style, was an absolute hoot and a natural comedian.

The only person who volunteered for lighting was Min-Jun, meaning he alone would be learning the deeper knowledge of the ETC Express dark magic.

The scripts for the three scenes: The Prologue, the Confrontation and the Road to Perdition, would also take place in a radical new setting.

And it was, at least to Eppie, mind-blowing.

Rather than Thebe, the renewed setting takes place in modern-day America, post the threat of 9/11, and the American bombing campaigns that saw the death of a dictator and the destabilisation of the region into civil chaos.

In Neo Antigone, General Creon was the Secretary of Defence, brother-in-arms to Oedipus, who perished in the war. He was the ward and protector of his friends’ orphaned kids, Polyneices, Antigone and Ismene, and a good father to his son, Haemon.

At the play’s opening, it was revealed that Polyneices, a decorated War Hero in pursuit of his father’s legacy, has become a whistleblower, exposing the accidental bombing of civilians by US air strikes, playing into the low point of Gore’s policies in the Middle East. Consequently, Polyneices is declared Persona non grata by a deeply shamed Secretary Creon. He is thus forbidden to return to the USA.

The Sophoclean’s first scene opens with Antigone, riding the moral tide of public sentiment and inalienable moralism, leveraging the mass media to return her brother to the United States. Her only demand—bring back Polynieces and allow him to be judged by a Grand Jury—not by a secret military tribune.

Creon is horrified by his adopted niece’s actions, more so when his own son, Haemon, Antigone’s fiancé, vehemently berates him at the dinner table. Unable to withstand pressure from the President, the media, and the threat to his career, he orders Antigone’s arrest, leading to a public showdown.

And while the Sophomores would not cover the final portion of the play, the tragic twist lies in Secretary Creon’s too-late decision to recognise the humanity of the adopted siblings, including his own son’s compassion, which led the duo to elope to Syria in search of Polyneices. There, they are killed by a chorus of faceless hatred, manifesting as a grieving militia in search of justice—any form of justice.

In the final scene, the Secretary sits in his office with his medals and accolades, pondering a world where his wife has left him, his son is dead, and the entire family of his best friend, whom he promised to protect are dead. In a narrow, simmering pool of light, he slowly takes out his service pistol—then the curtain falls.

The script, with its modern prose verse and stark political message was, hands down, the most amazing manifestation of an ancient text Eppie had ever seen, and she could not wait to put herself in Antigone’s shoes.

That and the anachronisms, such as framing the Leader of the Chorus as a Fox News Host, the Chorus as an audience of Americans watching the TV at home, were too goddamn amazing.

The duo responsible, Dr Costello and Chair Cooper, were confident and bonkers to give a play of this calibre to their amateur students.

Of the selected actors and actresses, only one group, pending rehearsals, will take centre stage in the Playhouse session for the invited public, with the other groups forming for in-house audiences and examiners.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

As a troop member, no matter the praise heaped upon her, she was stuck in the bottom of the Old Music building with the others, sawing wood and painting sets all the way til 9 PM.

On the Monday of Week 5, Eppie finally solo-played the backing track to her own song. Zara had learned the song, then spent the last two weeks going over the movements with her so that she could play her own song if needed at the Met.

As the final notes faded, her instructor exhaled at Eppie’s progress. “It’s far from perfect, but you’ve done it.”

“You mean you’ve done it?” Eppie thanked her teacher with her eyes. “How could I have done it myself?”

Zara’s eyes grew warm. Eppie pursed her lips in thought.

“Say, could I—”
“Do you want to—”

“Please, you first,” Eppie halted herself. “What were you saying?”

“It’s a big ask,” Zara looked overwhelmed as her face grew scarlet. “I have a showcase in the Fall Gala. Do you think I could play your song…”

“Absolutely,” Eppie answered before she even finished.

“… with me?” Zara finished. “As the vocalist and the resonance. I’ll play the lead.”

“Oh?” Eppie felt suddenly responsible. What her Senior was asking was indeed a big ask. If Eppie screwed up, it would reflect badly on Zara’s grading. “ I would love to, but you would have to have a lot of faith in my skills, haha…”