Chapter Text
The lights of the stage had captivated audiences for years, drawing people to stand on those wooden boughs like moths to a flame.
Tommy Inness was young, far too young to understand what he was diving into when he first felt the call of the stage, sitting cross-legged on the floor of an elementary school gymnasium as high schoolers graced their pathetic little corner of the acting world.
Even though there was no lighting, no set to be spoken of, that one tiny sliver of the theatrics pushed Tommy through his formative years, hoping for one moment that he would be the same person, standing on that stage and inspiring someone the same way he had been inspired.
High school had been…something so far. Freshman year consisted of staying out of people’s way and trying to keep quiet. Lonely lunches were the highlight of Tommy’s weeks, basking in the solitude of the quiet stairwell he had found. Despite how that isolation had burrowed into his day-to-day life, he needed to break himself from that monotony.
That break came the next year, swallowing his fears and signing up for the Drama Club.
Now, there’s a lot that could be said about Drama Club members. Loud, out there, influential- all of the things that Tommy found himself shying away from. Sweeny Todd was always an interesting story, and just his luck, that was the production that was going to be put on that spring. Taking his chances, Tommy had thrust himself out into the limelight for the audition. A fateful waiting period and a nerve-wracking callback later, Tommy found himself standing among many other hopefuls, looking for the cast list that had been posted outside the drama director’s office.
Large groups of kids had flocked to the list, looking to see if they would be able to return to their homes on the stage. Excited shouts and disappointed sighs filled the air, filling the hallway with a sense of hope. Pushing his way to the front, Tommy stared at the list, scanning across lists of roles that were assigned to names he didn’t know. Last name Captain, first name Puffy playing Mrs. Lovett…last name Jacobs, first name Karl playing Anthony Hope…none of these names made any sense. His heart seemed to rise further and further into his throat the more Tommy’s eyes scanned the sheet, hoping for even a glance at his name on that fateful sheet.
Last name Nihachu, first name Niki…Johanna.
Last name Liven, first name Quackity…Judge Turpin. That one was a weird name, Tommy thought to himself. Everyone seemed to have weird names here. Maybe it was a nickname.
Last name Sicle, first name Slime…Beadle Bamford. Again with the weird names, that one gave Tommy a bit of a laugh as he read it.
Last name Salmona, first name Sally…Lucy Barker. Finally, something normal.
Last name Manifold, the first name Jack…Adolfo Pirelli.
Last name Dude, first name Sam…Jonas Fogg.
With the final name, Tommy’s heart immediately jumped to his throat. He wasn’t mentioned anywhere- oh, he couldn’t have failed immediately, could he? Rereading the list two, three times proved to be fruitless. He hadn’t managed to get anything. About to turn away from the sheet, he realized that he had managed to miss a name. Right beneath the casting for Johanna, there was a little glimmer of hope.
Last name Inness, first name Tommy. Tobias Ragg.
He had done it. He had made the cast. The ensemble would have been great, but he had a name. He had a purpose . He would stand under those blazing lights, just like those kids who had inspired him all those years ago.
Practically jumping with joy, Tommy turned around and began to elbow his way through the crowd, until he ran face-first into the midriff of someone.
Looking up, and by God did he have to look up, there stood a junior wearing a simple yellow sweater and a worried expression. Even though he was about a head taller than most of the kids in the crowd, he was having a hard time moving through the group to see the sheet. Mossy brown hair seemed to fall over one of his eyes in curls, resting on top of rounded glasses.
The junior had recoiled from the sudden shock of getting run into, looking down at Tommy with a look of intense curiosity. “Hey, you good?”
“Yeah! Yeah, uh, just got my first role, like…ever,” Tommy smiled, covering up the anxiety that was bubbling deep in his chest. “Uhm…Tobias. Tobias Ragg. That’s the guy.”
“Oh! Great!” The junior smiled, standing on his tiptoes to try and get a look over the crowd at the sheet. “Tell me, could you check if I made it? I’m Wilbur. Wilbur Soot.”
“Right on, big man,” Tommy nodded, jokingly saluting and diving back into the throngs of eager actors.
Running his eyes across the list one last time, a familiar name stood out on top of the list.
Last name Soot, first name Wilbur.
Sweeney Todd. The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.
That same anxiety bubbled up in Tommy’s chest once more, realizing that he wasn’t only talking to a lead, but the lead. The big guy, the head honcho. Hell, his name was the name of the musical! Making his way out of the crowd, those horrid bubbles traversed up from his stomach into his throat, looking at Wilbur who was looking at him with a look of sheer excitement.
“So! Did I make it? C'mon, don’t leave me hanging, kid,” He smiled, running a hand through his hair anxiously.
“Sorry big man,” Tommy laughed, crossing his arms and leaning back on his heels. “Think they gave you a pity role. Probably just created it for this production- some bastard named Sweeney Todd- Obviously not as cool as the amazing Tobias Ragg, who I am. That’s me.”
“Oh! Oh shit!” Wilbur’s dismayed expression at the 'pity role' comment immediately changed to a look of sheer excitement, almost shocked that he had gotten the lead. “Dude, you got me there for a second you little shit,” He laughed, clapping a hand over his forehead. “Sweeney Todd…holy shit, I’m Sweeney Todd…”
“Yeah, sure, cool,” Tommy rolled his eyes, looking at the glee that covered Wilbur’s face. “Don’t get a big head, looks like you already have one that’s big enough.”
“Oh you-” Wilbur sighed, looking down at the snarky sophomore. “What’s your name, you little asshole?”
Despite the insults that they were flinging back and forth at each other, there wasn’t any malice in their words. It was all jokes, a sort of “welcome” to the production company. The two walked out of the crowd, watching as it dispersed into people talking about their futures with the production.
“I’m Tommy, but people call me Big T, Big Man, Woman Haver,” Tommy rattled off, creating nicknames that no one but himself had called him. “Pretty big deal around these parts.”
“Sure, sure,” Wilbur shrugged, ruffling Tommy’s blond curls. “You’re a sophomore right? You know what sophomore means?”
“Nah, hit me.”
“Wise fool. That’s you, you’re a wise fool,” Wilbur smirked, pushing his glasses back into place and crossing his arms. “You think you’re the shit, but you’re like, what, 16 years old? You’re practically a child.”
“Yeah? Well, you’re uh- ancient? Go sign up for social security, old ass bastard,” Tommy quipped back, raising his voice as if it would make the point hit harder.
“Uh-huh. Sure. Lemme just pull out my AARP card,” Wilbur laughed, flipping out his wallet and pretending to rummage around in the card pocket. Instead, all he came up with was a middle finger straight in the air. “Oh! Found this instead. Eat it, bitch.”
“Agh, you-” Tommy started, running up to Wilbur with the intent of whaling a fury down upon him. Unfortunately, an outstretched palm quickly put a pause in that plan, holding him far away from Wilbur.
“Easy slugger,” Wilbur laughed, watching as Tommy struggled against the easy hold he had gotten himself into. “Let's put this aside. This is your first performance, yeah? Didn’t see you around here last year.”
“Yeah no,” Tommy shrugged, getting released from the hold and rolling his shoulders. “Didn’t really wanna make any waves, didn’t really seem important to me at the time.”
“Shame, there are some kids on crew that are around your age that seem like you would get along with well,” Wilbur mused, resting his hands in his pants pockets.
The mention of other kids brought Tommy down from the sudden high he had been riding. God, he would have to be around other people, other people who didn’t know what he was like or would judge him on the first basis he got. It wasn’t just the cast he was going to be around…there were all the different crew, the production team, the director , and all angles that he could eventually slip up and fail at. The bubbles of anxiety started to well up in his chest again, rising from his lungs and resting somewhere in his throat.
Wilbur had caught the nervous expression that had fallen over Tommy’s face, however, looking down with worry. “Hey dude, don’t worry, everyone’s first production is great,” He smiled, removing his hands from his pockets and gesturing around.
Groups of kids were conversing, the crowd around the cast list had long dispersed by now. It didn’t seem to matter what role you got, everyone was talking to each other the same. At least, that’s what Tommy hoped. Walking forwards, Wilbur slightly nudged him out of his confusion with a simple bump on the shoulder.
“You want me to give you the grand tour?” He asked, a light shining in his eyes. Tommy nodded excitedly, practically getting dragged towards the conglomeration of kids standing in the center of the PAC.
The circle opened up as Wilbur made his way into the group, a silent acknowledgment that he had arrived. A few smiles, a wandering wave, just a simple agreement that this was the place that Wilbur belonged. Tommy was quietly standing beside him, that feeling of being out of place resting heavily on his shoulders.
The conversation that the two had joined in on went smoothly for a while, speaking of spring plans and school troubles. It wasn’t until a kid with raggedy, half-washed-out pink hair took notice of Tommy.
“Who’s the newbie?” He asked a curious lilt at the end of his monotone voice. “Wil, you got a little parasite on your shoulder or somethin’?”
“Nah, nah, just a sophomore,” Wilbur laughed, watching the rest of the group’s heads turn towards a very startled Tommy. “He’s the one that got Toby- thought it would be smart to introduce him.”
“Yeah, hah, that’s me,” Tommy started, trying to keep the energy of the conversation. “Tommy. Big T- that’s me-”
“Uh huh, kid,” The other kid let out a short little “pfft” of laughter, crossing his arms. “Another cast kid, taken under the wing of this idiot-”
A hand flew up from the blonde kid standing next to him, whacking him lightly on the head. “Techno, you said you wanted to be the stage manager, you have to deal with all the actors,” The blonde laughed, causing Techno to put on a feigned annoyed face.
“Yeah yeah…big words from the student director, Mr. Phil “Za” Craft,” Techno sighed, crossing his arms.
Oh, well, great. Just great. Tommy had made a fool of himself in front of two of the people on the production team, the people that could qualify if he was going to be seen or not. If he was going to perform again or not. Wilbur didn’t even seem to notice that Tommy was slowly slinking away before Phil nodded toward him, smiling kindly.
“It’s great that you decided to audition though,” He laughed, looking around the group. Other kids nodded in agreement, though there seemed to be at least 5 conversations going on at the same time. “It’s real impressive to get a role like that as a sophomore- that being said, all roles are great. You gotta understand that or you’ll just feel like shit mate.”
“Yeah yeah- and Techno’s just bluffing, he was an actor before he moved on up to stage manager,” Wilbur explained.
“Heh, yeah, nothing gets past my excellent eyes, I could tell he was lying a mile away,” Tommy laughed, filling himself with that false confidence that had seemed to carry him so far. “Good luck tryin’ to fool me, got the mind of a tiger-”
“Sure, sure,” Techno sighed, taking a ponytail holder off of his wrist and pulling his hair into a low ponytail. “Welp gotta go check with the stage crew and stuff. Make sure everyone’s all set up for the new show- nice to meetcha, Tommy.”
With that, everyone seemed to disperse their different ways, some heading home, others heading to go into town together. Wilbur walked with Tommy all the way to the edge of campus before stopping at a crossroads.
“Well, see ya later- wait, before you go, give me your phone.”
Handing over his phone, Tommy waited anxiously before getting it handed back a few moments later. “What did you do, put a virus on this?” He asked, snark resting on the edges of his voice.
“Nah, just added you to the cast group chat. Like, everyone’s on there. Niki, Karl- everyone. Don’t worry, it’ll be great.”
And with that, Wilbur walked off down the sidewalk, in the opposite direction from which Tomy was walking home. Almost instantly he checked his phone, scrolling through lists of chats he had. There weren’t many, mostly just spam from companies and texts with his mom. There, resting right at the top, was an innocuous-looking group chat with the name “Barber’s Pole”. Within a few minutes of being added, there were already a few messages welcoming him.
Quickly, Tommy shut his phone off and shoved it deep into his back pocket. He began his long walk back home, the blooming leaves on trees casting soft shadows over the sidewalk as cars passed him by.
The townhome was dark when he got back.
Unlocking the front door with an extra key he kept in his bag, Tommy slipped inside and shut the door behind him. Flicking on some lights and taking off his shoes, he looked around at the small entrance hallway that bled into the dining and living rooms. Walking forwards slightly, he chucked his bag onto a couch and flopped down shortly after it.
“I’m home!” He called, not expecting a response.
He never got a response.
Picking up the television remote, he lazily flipped through channels before groaning and shutting off the TV. He should do his homework, but there were more important things right about now. Walking towards the small kitchen and flipping the lights on, Tommy rummaged through the steadily declining amount of snacks in the cupboard. A post-it note was stuck to the microwave, detailing how to warm up the leftovers for dinner and to not eat any candy before having food.
Turning his attention to the fridge, Tommy knelt down and dug through the drawer at the bottom that always got stuck when he pulled it out. That’s where the drinks were kept until they eventually ran out. Pulling out a can of Coke, Tommy flipped the tab and listened to the satisfying crack of the can.
That crack reverberated around the empty house, listening to the quiet sizzling of the bubbles dying down in the can.
“I got the role in the musical,” He called out to no one, waiting for the air conditioning to come on so that the intimidating silence would at least be drowned out by some white noise.
There was no one there to congratulate him, no one to lift him into a hug and tell him how proud they were of him for even auditioning in the first place. No one to ask what the musical was even about, how his role was the one to cause an end to the reign of terror that had fallen upon the people of Fleet Street.
“Hope your job is goin’ well,” He sighed, taking a sip out of his soda and sitting down at the dining table. It was practically covered in papers and other trinkets, save for one spot where Tommy sat for his meals. Tapping his hand on the table, the air conditioning sputtered on for a second before promptly dying out.
“Great, just great,” He muttered, flopping his head down onto the table.
That same oppressive silence falls over the house again, just Tommy alone in his home. His head rested on the table until he could feel his forehead become flat against the wood, red marks left from pressing his weight into his arms.
Sitting back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling, Tommy practically tips the chair back on its hind legs and almost falls over backward. His phone was still buzzing in his back pocket, conversations about who knows what firing off like clockwork.
He just…sits there for a good long while, staring up at the popcorn ceiling that his mom always said they were going to get rid of eventually. She never really got around to doing that, though.
“I made some new friends,” He said, staring up at the ceiling as it would suddenly form a face from those bumps and smile down on him. “Or, at least I like to think they’ll be my friends.”
The ceiling stayed silent, just the simple creaking of resting floorboards responding to the conversation Tommy was having. Time passed, homework finished up and dinner was reheated for a minute in the microwave. Sitting back down at the table to eat, all Tommy could do was move his fork around the food and stare at it with a sort of disdain.
“Thanks for making dinner, Mom,” He sighed, finally picking up a heap of lukewarm mashed potatoes with his fork.