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monaboyd Mar. 19th, 2005 08:29 am)
ditchwitchbitch.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Mar. 19th, 2005 08:29 am)Title: Lullaby Town, part 2/?
Rating: This part is PG-13
Warnings: AU
Summary: Billy is an acting instructor with a few demons in the closet and Dom is young and eager.
Disclaimer: Not mine, and not true. Not a word of it.
Feedback: Please?
Author's Notes: I know nothing of acting. I know nothing of a lot of things which I write. So my sincerest apologies for having no clue about what I'm talking about... and also apologies to Tom Stoppard for using his beautiful play here. And for shameless promotion: If you haven't read Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, do so now. Also be aware that the movie version with Gary Oldman comes out on DVD this next Tuesday. Yay.
A Lesson on Acting
At a quarter of midnight, Dom is knocking on the door and Billy has given up any hope of sleeping. A few seconds later the door is open and Dom steps in, full of nervous energy.
Tonight, the nail polish is gone but the deranged hairstyle is not. Faded jeans, having more to do with age than style, hang precariously around his hips and silently threaten their descent. His shirt is so bright that Billy's eyes hurt, but he maintains silence.
"It's not too late, is it?" Fidget. Twitch. Twitch. The boy seems unable to sit still and his fingers drum restlessly against his knees.
Billy shakes his head, moving to sit on the sofa where he takes another, a better, look at Dominic. The younger man meets his gaze, holding it even for longer than most could manage. This impresses Billy.
"Since Ah still don't really know what we're doin' here, Dom, Ah think ye'd best tell meh what it is ye want to do t'night."
In an instant, Dom has procured a small book and is flipping through it. Billy looks around, trying to decide where it came from, and can only come to the conclusion that Dominic is a magician on the side.
"I thought, uh, that maybe we could do something from Shakespeare. Just to start out with. Unless, you have a better idea."
Billy stands, removing the book carefully from the boy's fingers. He's afraid to startle him, sensing that Dominic is so tightly wound currently that he might unravel at the slightest sensation.
"Did ye go to acting school?" he questions.
Dom hesitates. "For a year, but then my dad wouldn't pay for it so I went to culinary school. But I'm not totally inexperienced. I've been in a lot of plays, they're just lower budget things. And I've been acting since I was young."
The book is tossed behind the sofa.
Dom's eyes track its path before darkening in confusion. "I don't understand."
"Ye've done all that stuff, lad. Ah'll not have you pay meh to rehash things ye should know how to do."
Dom's eyes grow wide for an instant, and it occurs to Billy that they have not discussed payment. Perhaps the boy can't afford a lesson, even. And as Dom continues to stare at him, Billy realizes that this is correct.
"I can't..." For the second time in as many nights, Dom is left speechless.
Billy is shaking his head, realizing his mistake and now intent on correcting it. "We'll worry 'bout that later. And if ye can't pay with money, ye can pay with somethin' else."
Dom's eyes grow wider, and Billy nearly chokes as he realizes what he has said. "No! Shite, no. Didn't mean that! Jesus." He shuts his eyes, wanting nothing more than to bury his head into the sofa and make this nightmare end. He did not ask for this boy. A small voice in his head reminds him that he did not send him away, though, either. Billy takes a deep breath and continues. "Forget payment for now."
"But I really can't afford it."
Billy nods. "That's fine, lad."
Silence settles on them both for a long period of time, during which Dom continues to fidget. Billy sits on his hands to keep from reaching out to still the boy. At last, Dom speaks.
"So if we're not doing that sort of acting, what sort of acting are we doing?"
"No acting."
Dom spins on the heels of his feet, looking almost outraged. "No acting? But, you said, you said Billy! You said you'd help me." A moment later Billy is laughing at him, and Dom's cheeks flush with confused embarrassment.
To calm the boy, Billy places one hand gently on his shoulder. "We're just going to get to know each other first. Get ye relaxed. Then we'll work on acting. See, ye've got to be able to practice in a secure environment. That way, when ye're thrown up on that stage, ye can draw back on that safety and ye won't give a feckin' shite if the audience is throwing things at ye." He pauses, then adds hastily, "Which they won't be."
The younger man stops for a long moment, considering these words. At last, he comes to the conclusion that Billy is old school, but he's not opposed to this plan and is always willing to try something new.
Conversation proves difficult for awhile, and the answers to one another's questions reveal little depth. Billy has been working at the theater for seven years and hopes one day to move to London and find better work. He just... hasn't yet. He has never been married, and when he begins to laugh at the absurdity of that question Dom calls him on it.
"What's so funny about that? It's not like I know you well."
Billy nods in agreement, fanning himself to calm down and keep from breaking into another fit of giggles. "It's just that, ah, with mah temperamental ways and the fact that most of mah company can be bought at the pub across the street, no person'd want meh."
Dom's eyes flicker over Billy and he shrugs, leaning back into the chair in an attempt to become more relaxed. "You're not terrible looking, and you've got a steady job. These can't be bad qualities. Some woman would want you."
"'M not looking for a woman," Billy murmurs, but adds nothing more to the statement. The other man does not press, and instead begins to retell a condensed version of his own life.
It was a happy childhood on a military base. As with all army brats, he always had a knack for getting himself into the worst sort of trouble imaginable, but somehow he could pull himself out of it. Usually, at any rate. He went to university and wanted to study acting, but his father refused to pay. So after a semester of barely scraping by on his own, he transferred to a smaller culinary school with the benefit of having financial aid from the home front.
"What about yer mum? Did she have any say in yer tuition?"
Dom shakes his head no, fingers moving restlessly on the arm of the leather chair. With each movement he makes, the seat creaks because his body is sticking to it. "She tried, and she'd slip me money when she could, but my mum never worked. She had to rely on him, and I didn't want to get him mad at her."
Billy motions to his hand. "Ye have a hard time stayin' still, don't ye?" Dominic's cheeks flush again, turning bright red.
"It's a bad habit, I know. But I just can't sit still. My mum always thought that maybe I had ADD or something, but it doesn't give me too many problems. Mostly it bothers other people." With that, he throws Billy another cheeky grin. Bastard.
When Billy glances at the clock, he's surprised to find that it reads a quarter until two. He tells Dom the time, then adds, "Ah still say we should wait on the actual acting, but if ye're wanting some practice, we can get a bit in."
Dom nods. "I'm too wound up now and I wouldn't be able to sleep. If that's okay?" And it is.
So Dom retrieves the discarded book from the floor and hands it to Billy, nearly shaking from anticipation. Billy settles into the sofa, watching a slow transformation in Dominic. He closes his eyes, doing some breathing technique to calm himself, and slowly his muscles relax.
"What do ye wanna do? Something from the play, or the book?"
Dom's eyes open and blink. "Whichever you want to do."
He nods, skimming the contents of the book slowly. Pocket sized Shakespeare. It makes him smile to think about the boy carrying this book with him wherever he goes, keeping it tucked safely away in his pocket where he can retrieve it at any spare moment.
"Ye know any of these by heart?" He is pleased when Dominic nods in affirmation.
Billy's fingers trace the outline of the cover's lettering, slowly. It has been ages since he;s been this excited to see someone perform, to be able to sit back and relax, knowing that his opinion is the only one that matters to the actor.
He closes the book. "Let's try something different." Rising from the chair, Billy makes his way across the room to let his fingers skim a shelf full of play. He removes one and returns, finding the exact page he wants, before handing it back to Dom.
The younger boy turns the book over in his hands. "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead?"
Billy nods. Dom shrugs and reads the page over, asking him if he'll be Guil. "I've read this before, so I know most of it."
After another breathing exercise, they're off.
"It could go on forever. Well, not for ever, I suppose." He closes his eyes. His fingers do not drum restlessly on his knees and his breathing is calm, measured. He keeps his eyes closed. "Do you ever think of yourself as actually dead, lying in a box with a lid on it?"
Billy almost forgets he is part of this game, so it is a long moment later when he adds in, "No."
Dom nods, rising to his feet and pacing. "Nor do I, really. It's silly to be depressed by it. I mean, no one thinks of it as being alive in a box, do they? One keeps forgetting to take into account that one is dead... which should make all the difference. Shouldn't it?" He sits down beside Billy, leaning his head back to stare wistfully at the ceiling.
"I mean, you'd never know you were in a box, would you? It would be just like being asleep in a box. Not that I'd like to sleep in a box, mind you, not without any air... You'd wake up dead for a start, and then where would you be? Apart from inside a box. That's the bit I don't like. That's why I don't think of it...”
His voice trails off and he moves, picking up the script and moving to stand by the window, staring out into the black abyss of the night. Billy is mesmerized by his actions. His acting could still use some work, but the boy can say more with one look than anyone Billy has seen in years.
He starts up again, sounding distant and forlorn. Mostly, though, he sounds frightened. "Because, you'd be helpless, wouldn't you? Stuffed in a box like that. I mean, you'd be in there for ever. Even taking into account the fact that you're dead, it isn't a pleasant thought. Especially if you're dead, really."
Dom turns to Billy quickly, moving to stand beside him. "Ask yourself, if I asked you straight off: I'm going to stuff you into this box now, would you rather be alive or dead? Naturally, you'd prefer to be alive. Life in a box is better than no life at all." He turns his head to the side, looking past Billy. "I expect, anyway." With a quick shake of his head, he turns his attention back to his audience. "You'd have a chance at least. You could lie there thinking... thinking... Fuck."
They laugh and once Billy motions for him to sit, Dom's fingers are moving silently against his jeans again, fist clenching and unclenching. "How'd I do?" He chews on his lip.
Billy gives him a gentle smile and nods. "Ye show some talent, lad. Ye could work on your delivery some, but ye've got the facial expressions down. Problem is... when ye're on a stage, no one cares what your face looks like. It's how your voice sounds. If it quivers, shakes, booms, whispers. That's how ye convey yer emotion on a stage."
The boy deflates for a moment, then nods thoughtfully. "I'll work on it. Anything you can suggest?"
He thinks for a moment, turning to where he's directly facing Dominic. "What are ye thinking 'bout when ye're acting?"
"The lines," he answers, as if it's the most obvious answer in the world. Billy nods, then ruffles up his hair. If possible, the hair style now looks improved.
"Ye should be thinking about the character. 'Bout his motivations. The trick to acting is identifying something in the character that ye can relate to, and playing off that. That's all acting is. Playing off things."
Dom nods again and silence settles between the duo. Billy gets them drinks, warm glasses of milk (though it's not what Billy's craving for), and they drink quietly, each contemplating different things. After a time, Dom rises to his feet and thanks Billy for the night.
Then he's gone, as suddenly as he came. Billy wonders if he'll see the boy again, or if this is to be the end of their lessons. But the next night, and the night after that, Dom shows up at a random time in the evening and they chat for long hours, before replaying the same scene from the script until Dom's voice trembles with fear and anticipation, and his monologue sounds more like the confused ramblings of a lost man. Once they have that down, they move on to what Billy describes as harder material, and what Dominic describes as inane. "It's not even anything that's been published!" he whines indifferently one night, reading through the lines and rubbing his forehead. Billy laughs at him.
"That's the point. Ye've never heard of it, and ye don't know the motivations. Ye've got to figure it out, Dom. That's the other part of acting. Ye've still got to learn, lad."
But, as Billy is about to find out, so does he.
Rating: This part is PG-13
Warnings: AU
Summary: Billy is an acting instructor with a few demons in the closet and Dom is young and eager.
Disclaimer: Not mine, and not true. Not a word of it.
Feedback: Please?
Author's Notes: I know nothing of acting. I know nothing of a lot of things which I write. So my sincerest apologies for having no clue about what I'm talking about... and also apologies to Tom Stoppard for using his beautiful play here. And for shameless promotion: If you haven't read Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, do so now. Also be aware that the movie version with Gary Oldman comes out on DVD this next Tuesday. Yay.
A Lesson on Acting
At a quarter of midnight, Dom is knocking on the door and Billy has given up any hope of sleeping. A few seconds later the door is open and Dom steps in, full of nervous energy.
Tonight, the nail polish is gone but the deranged hairstyle is not. Faded jeans, having more to do with age than style, hang precariously around his hips and silently threaten their descent. His shirt is so bright that Billy's eyes hurt, but he maintains silence.
"It's not too late, is it?" Fidget. Twitch. Twitch. The boy seems unable to sit still and his fingers drum restlessly against his knees.
Billy shakes his head, moving to sit on the sofa where he takes another, a better, look at Dominic. The younger man meets his gaze, holding it even for longer than most could manage. This impresses Billy.
"Since Ah still don't really know what we're doin' here, Dom, Ah think ye'd best tell meh what it is ye want to do t'night."
In an instant, Dom has procured a small book and is flipping through it. Billy looks around, trying to decide where it came from, and can only come to the conclusion that Dominic is a magician on the side.
"I thought, uh, that maybe we could do something from Shakespeare. Just to start out with. Unless, you have a better idea."
Billy stands, removing the book carefully from the boy's fingers. He's afraid to startle him, sensing that Dominic is so tightly wound currently that he might unravel at the slightest sensation.
"Did ye go to acting school?" he questions.
Dom hesitates. "For a year, but then my dad wouldn't pay for it so I went to culinary school. But I'm not totally inexperienced. I've been in a lot of plays, they're just lower budget things. And I've been acting since I was young."
The book is tossed behind the sofa.
Dom's eyes track its path before darkening in confusion. "I don't understand."
"Ye've done all that stuff, lad. Ah'll not have you pay meh to rehash things ye should know how to do."
Dom's eyes grow wide for an instant, and it occurs to Billy that they have not discussed payment. Perhaps the boy can't afford a lesson, even. And as Dom continues to stare at him, Billy realizes that this is correct.
"I can't..." For the second time in as many nights, Dom is left speechless.
Billy is shaking his head, realizing his mistake and now intent on correcting it. "We'll worry 'bout that later. And if ye can't pay with money, ye can pay with somethin' else."
Dom's eyes grow wider, and Billy nearly chokes as he realizes what he has said. "No! Shite, no. Didn't mean that! Jesus." He shuts his eyes, wanting nothing more than to bury his head into the sofa and make this nightmare end. He did not ask for this boy. A small voice in his head reminds him that he did not send him away, though, either. Billy takes a deep breath and continues. "Forget payment for now."
"But I really can't afford it."
Billy nods. "That's fine, lad."
Silence settles on them both for a long period of time, during which Dom continues to fidget. Billy sits on his hands to keep from reaching out to still the boy. At last, Dom speaks.
"So if we're not doing that sort of acting, what sort of acting are we doing?"
"No acting."
Dom spins on the heels of his feet, looking almost outraged. "No acting? But, you said, you said Billy! You said you'd help me." A moment later Billy is laughing at him, and Dom's cheeks flush with confused embarrassment.
To calm the boy, Billy places one hand gently on his shoulder. "We're just going to get to know each other first. Get ye relaxed. Then we'll work on acting. See, ye've got to be able to practice in a secure environment. That way, when ye're thrown up on that stage, ye can draw back on that safety and ye won't give a feckin' shite if the audience is throwing things at ye." He pauses, then adds hastily, "Which they won't be."
The younger man stops for a long moment, considering these words. At last, he comes to the conclusion that Billy is old school, but he's not opposed to this plan and is always willing to try something new.
Conversation proves difficult for awhile, and the answers to one another's questions reveal little depth. Billy has been working at the theater for seven years and hopes one day to move to London and find better work. He just... hasn't yet. He has never been married, and when he begins to laugh at the absurdity of that question Dom calls him on it.
"What's so funny about that? It's not like I know you well."
Billy nods in agreement, fanning himself to calm down and keep from breaking into another fit of giggles. "It's just that, ah, with mah temperamental ways and the fact that most of mah company can be bought at the pub across the street, no person'd want meh."
Dom's eyes flicker over Billy and he shrugs, leaning back into the chair in an attempt to become more relaxed. "You're not terrible looking, and you've got a steady job. These can't be bad qualities. Some woman would want you."
"'M not looking for a woman," Billy murmurs, but adds nothing more to the statement. The other man does not press, and instead begins to retell a condensed version of his own life.
It was a happy childhood on a military base. As with all army brats, he always had a knack for getting himself into the worst sort of trouble imaginable, but somehow he could pull himself out of it. Usually, at any rate. He went to university and wanted to study acting, but his father refused to pay. So after a semester of barely scraping by on his own, he transferred to a smaller culinary school with the benefit of having financial aid from the home front.
"What about yer mum? Did she have any say in yer tuition?"
Dom shakes his head no, fingers moving restlessly on the arm of the leather chair. With each movement he makes, the seat creaks because his body is sticking to it. "She tried, and she'd slip me money when she could, but my mum never worked. She had to rely on him, and I didn't want to get him mad at her."
Billy motions to his hand. "Ye have a hard time stayin' still, don't ye?" Dominic's cheeks flush again, turning bright red.
"It's a bad habit, I know. But I just can't sit still. My mum always thought that maybe I had ADD or something, but it doesn't give me too many problems. Mostly it bothers other people." With that, he throws Billy another cheeky grin. Bastard.
When Billy glances at the clock, he's surprised to find that it reads a quarter until two. He tells Dom the time, then adds, "Ah still say we should wait on the actual acting, but if ye're wanting some practice, we can get a bit in."
Dom nods. "I'm too wound up now and I wouldn't be able to sleep. If that's okay?" And it is.
So Dom retrieves the discarded book from the floor and hands it to Billy, nearly shaking from anticipation. Billy settles into the sofa, watching a slow transformation in Dominic. He closes his eyes, doing some breathing technique to calm himself, and slowly his muscles relax.
"What do ye wanna do? Something from the play, or the book?"
Dom's eyes open and blink. "Whichever you want to do."
He nods, skimming the contents of the book slowly. Pocket sized Shakespeare. It makes him smile to think about the boy carrying this book with him wherever he goes, keeping it tucked safely away in his pocket where he can retrieve it at any spare moment.
"Ye know any of these by heart?" He is pleased when Dominic nods in affirmation.
Billy's fingers trace the outline of the cover's lettering, slowly. It has been ages since he;s been this excited to see someone perform, to be able to sit back and relax, knowing that his opinion is the only one that matters to the actor.
He closes the book. "Let's try something different." Rising from the chair, Billy makes his way across the room to let his fingers skim a shelf full of play. He removes one and returns, finding the exact page he wants, before handing it back to Dom.
The younger boy turns the book over in his hands. "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead?"
Billy nods. Dom shrugs and reads the page over, asking him if he'll be Guil. "I've read this before, so I know most of it."
After another breathing exercise, they're off.
"It could go on forever. Well, not for ever, I suppose." He closes his eyes. His fingers do not drum restlessly on his knees and his breathing is calm, measured. He keeps his eyes closed. "Do you ever think of yourself as actually dead, lying in a box with a lid on it?"
Billy almost forgets he is part of this game, so it is a long moment later when he adds in, "No."
Dom nods, rising to his feet and pacing. "Nor do I, really. It's silly to be depressed by it. I mean, no one thinks of it as being alive in a box, do they? One keeps forgetting to take into account that one is dead... which should make all the difference. Shouldn't it?" He sits down beside Billy, leaning his head back to stare wistfully at the ceiling.
"I mean, you'd never know you were in a box, would you? It would be just like being asleep in a box. Not that I'd like to sleep in a box, mind you, not without any air... You'd wake up dead for a start, and then where would you be? Apart from inside a box. That's the bit I don't like. That's why I don't think of it...”
His voice trails off and he moves, picking up the script and moving to stand by the window, staring out into the black abyss of the night. Billy is mesmerized by his actions. His acting could still use some work, but the boy can say more with one look than anyone Billy has seen in years.
He starts up again, sounding distant and forlorn. Mostly, though, he sounds frightened. "Because, you'd be helpless, wouldn't you? Stuffed in a box like that. I mean, you'd be in there for ever. Even taking into account the fact that you're dead, it isn't a pleasant thought. Especially if you're dead, really."
Dom turns to Billy quickly, moving to stand beside him. "Ask yourself, if I asked you straight off: I'm going to stuff you into this box now, would you rather be alive or dead? Naturally, you'd prefer to be alive. Life in a box is better than no life at all." He turns his head to the side, looking past Billy. "I expect, anyway." With a quick shake of his head, he turns his attention back to his audience. "You'd have a chance at least. You could lie there thinking... thinking... Fuck."
They laugh and once Billy motions for him to sit, Dom's fingers are moving silently against his jeans again, fist clenching and unclenching. "How'd I do?" He chews on his lip.
Billy gives him a gentle smile and nods. "Ye show some talent, lad. Ye could work on your delivery some, but ye've got the facial expressions down. Problem is... when ye're on a stage, no one cares what your face looks like. It's how your voice sounds. If it quivers, shakes, booms, whispers. That's how ye convey yer emotion on a stage."
The boy deflates for a moment, then nods thoughtfully. "I'll work on it. Anything you can suggest?"
He thinks for a moment, turning to where he's directly facing Dominic. "What are ye thinking 'bout when ye're acting?"
"The lines," he answers, as if it's the most obvious answer in the world. Billy nods, then ruffles up his hair. If possible, the hair style now looks improved.
"Ye should be thinking about the character. 'Bout his motivations. The trick to acting is identifying something in the character that ye can relate to, and playing off that. That's all acting is. Playing off things."
Dom nods again and silence settles between the duo. Billy gets them drinks, warm glasses of milk (though it's not what Billy's craving for), and they drink quietly, each contemplating different things. After a time, Dom rises to his feet and thanks Billy for the night.
Then he's gone, as suddenly as he came. Billy wonders if he'll see the boy again, or if this is to be the end of their lessons. But the next night, and the night after that, Dom shows up at a random time in the evening and they chat for long hours, before replaying the same scene from the script until Dom's voice trembles with fear and anticipation, and his monologue sounds more like the confused ramblings of a lost man. Once they have that down, they move on to what Billy describes as harder material, and what Dominic describes as inane. "It's not even anything that's been published!" he whines indifferently one night, reading through the lines and rubbing his forehead. Billy laughs at him.
"That's the point. Ye've never heard of it, and ye don't know the motivations. Ye've got to figure it out, Dom. That's the other part of acting. Ye've still got to learn, lad."
But, as Billy is about to find out, so does he.
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In an instant, Dom has procured a small book and is flipping through it. Billy looks around, trying to decide where it came from, and can only come to the conclusion that Dominic is a magician on the side.
I loved this part! More soon?
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I think I'm going to start posting one part every other day. I've still got the next seven parts written (as I wrote another one yesterday) and that way, if the plot bunnies choose to run away for awhile, I've still got time to keep ahead of what I'm posting.