Chapter Text
Ending with a cheerful round of applause, it was a sign of another successful show. The hardship throughout the making of the entire production period closed with joy and seemingly endless ray of thank you as well as congratulations. The team gathered around on the stage which would be sadly taken down as it was the finale and no more shows shall be played.
A sigh escaped from a figure that chose to eye on their work before the responsible team gradually took down the massive stage. Before they realised it, the concrete product was gone, vanished into thin air with no trace of metals and planks being left out.
That was it.
She is beyond relief when plentiful of positive comments come up onto the screen of her computer a week after the latest play. As the head of the technical department of the play, she is proud to say it was the best stage she ever designed for a theatre performance. The overall lights set up shone according to the plan and the audio played exactly based on the written cue sheet. One box checked after another.
Everything went off smoothly in her opinion. There were a number of misunderstandings and fights along the way which were to be expected and normal. It would be strange for anything to go too smooth. However, with a calm theatre director leading the whole production, it reflected on the final night. And their hard paid off tremendously.
The girl closes the computer, putting it on sleep mode for the rest of the day. She does not want to bother herself by rebooting the entire system when she was planning to stay up in the cramped workspace. Scattered papers of old designs and pictures were all neatly arranged on the corkboard. She supposed she should start clearing them for a future project. The next time she lands another work though, it will be on a brand new level.
Her eyes drift towards the left side of the desk. A hard cover portfolio was left opened. Smiling at the viewed page, she lets a sigh escape and wonders if she is ready to take the challenge when it comes.
The scene transitions from a three bedroom apartment to a group of boys in a semi lid room. All of them are within the same age range of early twenties. Yet none of them are bothered enough to fully brighten the area. One can agree that it will take toll on their eyes in the future. Well, for the time being, they cannot afford to waste excess electricity with the student wage and production income. The three of them are gathered after a long day and the sun is almost out.
“Well, are you sure we can do this? It sounds a bit more than the previous one.” A fellow, who visually appears the eldest among them, bites his tongue lightly upon reading a centimetre thick of script. He switches his view from the synopsis page before looking at the one with circular rimmed glasses across him.
“But anything is possible for a theatre if you asked me. So what do you guys think?” The glasses boy passed the question to the last one. He has a glimpse of the piece from the older fellow. The last one nods.
“I agree with Wonwoo, Seungcheol.”
Upon revealing the twos’ name, Wen Junhui being the one who stated the agreement, takes the script, written by no other than Jeon Wonwoo, from the future director in the room, Choi Seungcheol.
The trio have been together on several projects before. Having the ability to experience different roles, they believe it will be at their advantage to be standing where they are today. Although in all honesty, Wonwoo seems to do alright with the one position since he appears to have an innate talent in scriptwriting production.
“We’ll have to remember that it’s impossible to recruit Jeonghan to design everything. Unless you have another person who can replace him, I guess that’s okay.” Junhui voiced his thought with visible disappointment in his lines. Slow bob of head instantly seen from the other whilst they stumble in their brains to work around the problem.
Yoon Jeonghan held one of the important roles in the production they put together for the last few plays. He was the one with a talent on stage design, a scenographer in theatre dictionary. Sketching the stage, suggesting lighting sequences, designing costumes, and a lot more – it was indeed his forte. Unfortunately for them, he opted to step out of the team once he was offered to work at an actual production house where things will be a lot more stable to him, income wise.
The Rose Quartz and Serenity Production are anything but a huge and important production house. They are an independent group of youngsters. These selective few are theatre junkies who spent their time and effort on stage performances since they were little. They found their way in this particular theatre team projects years back.
The founder of the production team took time to open a place to conduct various scale projects and finding funds were always a tough challenge since some people are not entirely supportive of their ideas. As it is an independent group, it is not a surprise for people to leave but not without passing the responsibility onto the next generation after. The chosen one is indeed Seungcheol himself.
“How about we try talking to Shua again?” The current theatre director popped a name and similarly to Jeonghan’s path, this Joshua Hong, unfortunately had to leave for something more secure. His condition is proven to be the hardest as his parents never truly liked him meddling with the so-called artsy world.
And so he left Korea entirely, flew across the world to further his study in his homeland. Unlike the director, he rather not stay attached to something insecure. Seungcheol turns to hear his friend’s answer, “He’s in L.A already. Is there really no one in the team that can’t take over? How about-”
“How about we ask Soonyoung if he can find someone? He has the connections too, remember?” Wonwoo cuts Junhui’s words which the boy pouts and obviously not seen by the other before replying, “I thought you wanted to suggest Soonyoung to be our Scenographer. I’m almost ready to disagree.”
“Actually, Soonyoung is not a bad designer too. He’s just...how should I say it...” The eldest paused to think and snaps his fingers in excitement. “All over the place? But I don’t see any trouble in having him as the scenographer though. Should I talk to him tomorrow?”
“But isn’t he more of a tech guy or something? I saw what he did with the lights for the latest show.” Wonwoo added his point. “And he was just the assistant. If I’m you, I will probably go for the leader of his department and hire whoever it was to be the scenographer. I can see it will come in handy since this play can possibly be designed minimally but with extravagant lighting and audio work.”
“Do you think you can be the assistant director for this then?” Seungcheol beamed at the playwright who rolls his eyes. He thought they already agreed on the position the minute they planned to produce this play. He guesses the fellow can be quite forgetful. That he needs to take note on since he has long accepted the position to sit by the older fellow’s side.
“That is settled than. I will still need a date set for the casting sessions. Should we put it up same as per usual? I need to let the EM know about it. If I’m lucky enough, I might actually have a chance to discuss more stuff with the PM.” Junhui as the one entrusted to be the stage manager and assistant production manager once again jots his task down on his notebook. The position always carried together when he is working with them.
“Yeah,” Seungcheol shortly nods, “We can proceed as usual. The kids there are good actors so I see no harm to that. Maybe we can snatch new faces too.” He optimistically taps the table. Just the simple idea alone makes him giddy.
“Let’s just wish we are not clashing with another theatre casting session. We know what will happen when it happens, right? I never seen our previous director so pissed before. Seungcheol learned that the hard way.” The Chinese fellow chuckles.
“Don’t remind me.” Seungcheol groans once he remembers what happened during the initial phase of the previous play’s production. He was the assistant director and acted as the assistant stage manager on the spare times whenever they were short of crew during practices.
Let’s just say, they only managed to get leftover talents and none of them were experienced dancers. At least they made a decent group of backup dancers though. The painful experience was hard to swallow. One of the many gestures he had done throughout the whole ordeal was face-palm. And lots of it.
“I’m going to hope Yanan and Sungjae will do a great job at picking the audition space. I don’t want to do at the campus quad again. That was terrible and embarrassing.” The director plonks his head on the table at the sudden throwback.
“Hey, put more hope in them at least. We’re not taking them in to be the EM and PM for nothing. Not to mention your close friends too. Other than Jeonghan and Joshua, that is.” Junhui mentioned as a reminder since he clearly recalled it was not the duo who handled that chaotic event back then.
He loves running.
It gives him the needed adrenaline rush flowing in his veins yet the reasoning behind his sprinting seems to make him feel everything but loving it. It is unlike him to unnecessarily break into a run, steps bigger than his usual as he heads towards the performing arts building.
He loves running but not when he is running late for class.
“Please be open. Please be open.” The young Chinese lad chanted as soon as he finds the door leading to the lecture hall closing its distance. By logic, he increases his speed because he does not have the time stop and get a glance at his watch.
He wants to scream. Really, he wants to do so. Yet the only thing comes out of his mouth is a curse before he lets his hand slides off the door, dejected to find the door indeed locked which translate to him being tardy for the second time in a span of three weeks.
Note to self, he swears to never stay up late or procrastinating with his assignments again. But hey, a student is a student and he will surely break his own oath again. In the midst of defeat, the boy, namely Xu Minghao, feels the vibration in his pocket which he immediately takes out only to have his eyes widen upon answering the call.
The call later then takes him to the faculty’s cafeteria where his friend waving over in his direction. To compare to his friend bright smile, his annoyed expression is far more unwelcoming in the afternoon. Minghao slides onto the bench and looks up at the ever-so cheery Kim Mingyu.
“You couldn’t tell me last night about the class being cancelled, you punk?! We even pulled an all-nighter to finish our assignments.” Minghao’s fiery vibe might have slip an unwanted impoliteness in his choice of name but when he catches Mingyu keeps on giggling, his frown curves deeper.
“I knew about it this morning, okay? Besides, I’m just taking the subject as a minor. Unlike you, an obvious film major.” Mingyu defended once he is done with his giggle fest. “And it’s not my fault you didn’t read my text.”
“You do remember me telling you that my phone broke, right? How am I supposed to get the text?” He rolled his eyes and mutters how he managed to waste his morning retrieving his now-fixed phone. He is lucky that he is blessed with immense stamina to be able to dash to university for the afternoon Cinematography class.
“By the way,” Mingyu paused to wait for his friend to make a proper eye contact, “I have to cancel the movie night this Friday. I got a text from RQS again. There’s a meeting and I get to join them from scratch for once.”
“Isn’t this your third time working with them? Are you even getting paid decently for it?” As a film student, he never really understands what his fellow theatre friend gone through. The film kid brows furrow in confusion.
They have been friends for months or a year (almost). So Minghao knew how hard Mingyu worked extra hard doing the things he formerly sees as hobby to an actual work. Though in his humble opinion, his friend deserves more payment from his effort. Judging on his expenses to buy new materials, measly sum at the end of the production never seem to make any sense.
“It’s not like I can be picky, Hao. I’m not you. It’s hard enough to fill my portfolio so why not?” Of course, Minghao wanted to say upon hearing Mingyu’s words.
They discussed about this before – the reason that keeps Mingyu going back to designing costumes for actors casted for the play. He has his eyes on a famous fashion company. In order to succeed, he needs not only dress to impress. He needs to show that he can dress people to impress.
Being a part of the RQS Production this time around will be different, Mingyu shares to Minghao. Again, the young lad tries to understand his friend’s persistence. If it helps, then he will support him. But…
“How different will it be, Gyu? You barely managed to keep up with the reports and assignment.” He is reminded of the time Mingyu slouched on his coffee table, fingers tapping on the keyboard without any break. Much like the night before. “You did tell me that it will be a hectic semester.” Minghao continued. His vacant hand begins to play with his smartphone like a fidget spinner. One can clearly tell what actually happened to the poor phone before.
“I just said based on what my seniors told me.” The tall fellow stressed on his line as another form of defence, “They are probably exaggerating. I’m doing just fine. Besides, this will be my first time as the head of the costume department. I don’t know who is the art director yet since Seungcheol, you know, the director-”
“You’re telling me, Choi Seungcheol, the director of this play, doesn’t even have an art director sort out yet?” Minghao has a general idea how a theatre production runs. They are not that different than film production but that is enough to question about Seungcheol’s team.
Of course, Minghao heard about him. He attended a few plays where Mingyu invited him to watch. Seungcheol assisted in directing in a number of them. Frankly, he can pick up a pattern based on the end product. He has the rights to judge because he is minoring in theatre. And all thanks to his fellow beanpole-like friend who managed to point out his hidden talent in acting and design.
“I think I still have to watch that movie anyway. It’s for my review assignment. I can’t risk getting my paper thrown out of the window again. It’s dreading just thinking about it.” The boy restated his plan firmly. The tragic scene brings an awful memory.
“Chill, Hao. That happened like two semesters ago. Why are you still thinking about that? You’re the top student now too.” Mingyu good-naturedly reminded him with a gentle smile.
“Being academically on the top is not good in this era now, is it? I still need to get that extra credit for Acting class. Do you know anyone who looks for an amateur?”
“I don’t know. My main programme is Scenography, remember? I’m not exactly the buddy-buddy kind to talk with the other kids from the other theatre courses.” Mingyu pursed his lips as he meets the eyes of a helpless Minghao. Well, he has an idea.
“How about you try auditioning for RQS Production? There will sure be a casting session happening soon. Try landing on the supporting role and you’re good to go. But careful not to be too good or you might get the leading role and that’s a no-no.” The friend suggested, waving his left index finger to stress his last word.
“Why? Am I not good enough to take a leading role?” A hint of disappointment can be heard in Minghao’s sentence. As an actor, he learns to mask it on his face. But he eases when he listens to Mingyu’s additional statement.
“I’m just saying that you already fit the leading role. In fact, Sungjae already sent a synopsis of the story. I’m just giving a heads up since really you’re the first guy I can think of that fits the character.”
“Great. I have to act I’m not good enough to get casted in a theatre performance. I wonder how your brain even works at most time, Gyu.”
“Sometimes I just let them fly somewhere happy and most of the times they’ll return back with brilliant ideas.”
“Great.” Minghao fake a wide smile. The one where his teeth are clearly shown before he mutters, “Most of the times...”