“Romeo, Romeo where for art thou Romeo” the phrase lingers through my mind as I head to the green room for my sixteenth century makeover. Tonight was the night every Year 10 student from Westside Boys and Girls had anticipated for. All the after school and weekend rehearsals were finally put to rest. I frantically run to the green room, knowing we only have three hours to get everything into place. The doors swing open, as Rosie the make-up artist runs up to me and grabs me tightly on the arm. “Where on earth have you been?” The main roles of Romeo, Juliet, Friar Lawrence, and Mercutio were told to come three hours earlier, while the smaller roles could have an hour off. Rosie’s question was obviously rhetorical; I mean who would want to know I had to go to my brother’s football match in the morning? Both Rosie and Brianna start rubbing on layers of foundation which makes my face look pale, my sporting tan was no longer existent. I clasp onto my booklet of lines, as I revise for the final time; Mr. Fraser the coordinator of our production stampedes in and asks where Romeo was. Romeo, played by Westside Boys’ bad boy Tony Thugbolt, Tony is of a muscular build, his shoulders bolted out his white top; his short brown hair was rarely dry; not a typical fancy Romeo looking face. He had won the vote of hundreds, or according to Clare the school gossiper; his mates threatened to pay out anyone who didn’t vote him for the main role.
I take a glance at Mr. Fraser with my face looking as if I rubbed baking soda all over; he was a middle aged man, who made himself look ten years older with his pear shaped figure and his eighty’s generation glasses. He gives me a stern look as he says “Find that boy, Cassandra!” he’s nose shrivels up and flares and with a shake of his head he stomps off. “Well, I better go and look for Tony” I say with blank tone, but inside I’m jumping up and