"Aunt Tiffany!" "Midget!" We hugged like long-lost lovers.

  It might seem a little out of character for me, but I cherished the idea of having a retive like an aunt or a cousin because I didn't have any biological retives beyond my mother. Tiffany was very cool with everything, at least the two times we met. I had only met her boyfriend, Beaumont, once, and that too was a brief enter that didn't go beyond exging pleasantries.

  "Are y to steal my woman?" Beau asked in a gruff voice, but his smirk was unmistakable. He was a giant of a man, standing tall at 6'4", with a shock of red hair. Given how both he and Tiffany had red hair, I used to call them Weasleys in my head.

  "Not my fault your woman is so easy to steal," I quipped back while still ging to her.

  "I'm telling you, Kathy," Tiffany said to my mother, who was standing behind me, "when this one grows up, you'll have to chase off a horde of girls with a bat."

  "Don't I know that?" Mum replied before addressing me. "Didn't you have something to ask Beau, Troy?"

  "Yes, I do." I separated myself from Tiffany, opehe bag I was carrying, and took out the script of the movie titled Dancer.

  "I need you to gh all the dialogues with me in a true Northern at. Like people in Durham speak, y'know? I'll copy you as much as I . Correct me if I'm wrong anywhere," I instructed.

  Mum, being the intelligent one among us, cut in, "We thank you a lot for your help. If you think it's too much work, we always do just a few ses, right, Troy?"

  "Yes, yes. I'm very grateful for your help," I added guiltily, realizing my blunder.

  Beau ughed out loud. "It's okay, kiddo. I didn't have any pns for today, so don't worry, we have the whole day. Let's gh each line of the script."

  (Break)

  Catg up with the Durham at was easier than the Ameri one for sure. I had to just drop a few T's while saying words. Water became wa'er, fit became fi', right became righ', and you get the point. There was also a special way to pronoune words, but mostly it was doable. If not immediately, then I could probably master it in a few weeks with dedicated practice.

  Many people seem to think it sounds a bit like a Geordie at, which is sidered one of the toughest British ats to uand. Though I uood Beau perfectly, so there goes that theory.

  Anyway, a produ would hire a dialect coach if I actually got the job to fill the gaps in my at.

  And finally, here I was for the first audition for the role of [Billy Elliot] at the home of Stephen Daldry in London.

  "Hello, Troy Armitage," Stephen Daldry, a man in his te thirties, shook my hahusiastically. "I must say, I loved your performan [Sex Education]."

  "Thank you, Mr. Daldry." I accepted his wraciously. It was a rather unusual type of audition with no casting director, no crowd of other people auditioning, or anyone else for that matter. It was just me and Mum, who was quietly sitting in a er.

  "So, how are you doing, Troy? And please, just call me Stephen," he said casually.

  "I am very good, Stephen. I just finished my seovie in February. It's in post-produ right now with aimated summer release. I'll be going back to the States in August for promotion."

  "Hmm," Stephen hummed audibly. "So we'll have to finish principal photography before then. If we select you, that is. It's certainly doable. You train in ballet for two months, and we shoot during June and July…" Stephen trailed off in his thoughts.

  I found it a little odd that he was making pns about me in the movie and the shooting schedule before I had even auditioned properly. It seemed very strange indeed.

  "If you don't mind me asking, Stephen," I interrupted his ramblings, "it's a bit unusual to see the director himself e out for an audition in the first round."

  "Well, we aren't accepting people not from Northern Engnd, and your at is, quite frankly, a very posh London at," he admitted. "Any casting director would've rejected you in the first round itself. But I trust Peter. We've known each other for more than a decade, so when he says you learn the at, I believe that you ."

  "Well," I began in my slightly learned Durham at, "I believe I have tried to learn a li'l bi' of the a'. I know I'm no' the bes', bu' I learn it if you gimme a ce."

  Stephen cracked a smile at that. "How many days did it take you to get that?"

  "One day with a na'ive speaker and the res' I practiy own for two days," I answered holy.

  Stephen looked at me with wide eyes. "I see eter saw in you."

  I just smiled back at him.

  "Alright," Stephen tinued, "for the first part, you'll have to read some lines for me. Carry on with your at, but remember to keep your emotions in check as well."

  I could uand his . While shooting [The Sixth Sense], it happened a few times when I'd revert bay London at if I got too lost in the emotions. It was a bit of a hassle at first, but si was a big-budget produ, they had hired dialect coaches who would point out whenever I o correct myself, and I ma perfectly after a few retakes.

  Keeping that in mind, I set my emotional state for the se. It was the moment where Billy, i.e., yours truly, is upset because of his family's financial problems. The daeacher, Ms. Wilkinson, is making him practice repeatedly, and he shes out at the only perso there: his teacher.

  "Miss, I 't do it," I said in a helpless torying to maintain my at as best I could.

  "That's because you're not trating," Stephen read Ms. Wilkinson's line.

  "I am trating," I responded, baffled and incredulous.

  "You're not even trying!"

  "I am, Miss!" I asserted, my frustration beginning to bubble.

  "Do it again."

  "'t."

  "You do it again!"

  "NO!" I shouted, the word eg with raw emotion.

  We paused for a few moments, the silence hanging heavy between us, before tinuing from the part.

  "I'm sorry," Stephen said, his voice softening.

  "It's all right for you. It's not you who has to do it!" I snarled, righteous anger burning through my veins. "You don't know anything! What do you know in your posh house, with your husband that pisses himself? You're the same as everybody else. All you want is to tell me what to do. Look, I don't wanna do your stupid fug audition! You only wao do it for your own be! Because you're a failure! You don't even have a proper dang school! You're stu some crummy boxing hall. Don't pie 'cause you fucked up your own life!"

  I panted heavily, having released all of my character's pent-up frustrations on Stephen in one go. There were some minor lines for Ms. Wilkinson there, but I hijacked it all and delivered a big monologue instead. Stephen o see my ag talent, which I hoped I had shown him.

  "Bravo!" Stephen started g from where he sat, then stood up and walked towards me. "That was awesome, Troy. If I didn't know aer, I'd say you've got some issues with your temper, young man! Didn't eve me read my part of the dialogues, eh?" he joked.

  I ughed out loud. "It would certainly seem so, Stephen."

  "Well," Stephen tinued after sharing a ugh with me, "as far as ag goes, I think I've seen what I had to see. would be your dang capabilities. Have you prepared anything?"

  "Indeed I have," I answered smugly as I stood up and moved to the ter of the room, taking my basic ballet pose on my toes.

  I began dang freely, perf multiple pirouettes, high jumps, a little tap dang mixed in here and there with high kicks, twirls, cartwheels, and everything iween that would showcase my versatility to a viewer, especially an experieage director like Stephen Daldry.

  After some three to four minutes, I ended my performan a high note, in my own humble opinion.

  "Good," Stephen ented without much fanfare. "You're at the perfectly optimum skill level."

  Then he looked down at a sheet in his hand that I hadn't noticed until now. "It says here that you py the piano?"

  Oh, it must be my resume.

  "Yes, I also py the guitar as well," I answered.

  "We don't he guitar, just some piano tuo be pyed in a few ses. Nothing too plicated," he said absentmindedly as he tinued reading.

  "You won't mind taking off your shirt or trousers for a se, right?" Stephen asked after a few moments.

  "As long as I'm covered in the important areas," I joked.

  "Of course, of course. Just a formality to ask, you see." Stephen ughed awkwardly. "You won't have a problem moving to Durham for two months, right?"

  "Yup, no problem, but my Mum would probably e along as well." I shrugged and poiowards her. She nodded vehemently at that point.

  "Obviously," Stephen nodded. "Alright, that's all on my end. We'll let you know the results in a few days. Unless you have a question, you go."

  I hesitated for a moment before asking what I found to be very strange indeed. " you please tell me why I feel like I'm getting special treatment? Not that I'm pining or anything, but from eter told me, you lot were interviewing thousands of people. I don't think you'd have time to interview me alone. And that too for such a long time."

  Stephen didn't say anything for a few moments but then smiled widely. "Peter said you were a smart one. Well, Troy, your father's making the [Harry Potter] movie, right? Now, he purchased bhts to one of the most popur books i history and has still not cast the male lead. There are not even audition calls for the role of Harry Potter. Am I corre assuming that's you?"

  I was stunned for a moment. This man is smart. I looked towards Mum, who had a sly smile on her face as if she had already anticipated that answer.

  "You don't have to ahat, your silence is enough for me. Let me tell you, I'm not the only oo deduce that. Warner Bros is hyping the news about the lead's casting by keeping it under s. What do you think will happehe media gets the news firmation? They'll find out everything about you. Including your other roles." Stephen finished.

  I ected the remaining dots immediately. "You won't have to spend as muarketing then. A film made on a small budget with such rge i publicity would obviously gather a lot of eyeballs, enough to at least recover the amount ied."

  "Exactly," Stephen said with a smile. "The expnation may sound wrong to you, but let me make this clear: if your skills were not up to par for the role, I would've straight-out rejected you. If you do get this role, it would be on your ow, so don't get disheartened."

  I nodded slowly. I wouldn't have gotten disheartened even if I hadn't gotten the role on my ow. In this industry, eatter. Only well-ected people get good roles easily. Everyone else has tle for them. This amazing movie fell right into my arms because of my suspected role in [Harry Potter] and, of course, my danstructor, Peter.

  It would be foolish of me to get upset over something so trivial.

  "I think," Mum said for the first time since we got here, "we should go now. Surely, the direust be busy with preparations for the movie?"

  We didn't wait there much longer.

  "Does everyone know about [Harry Potter], Mum?" I asked hesitantly on the way to our car.

  She ughed out loud. "Of course, everyone knows, dear. As the director pointed out, ah a brain deduce that. The studio is just trying to cast someone else to give lesser leverage to your Dad in the produ for future films."

  "I don't uand," I said holy.

  Mum sighed. "It will be a long project spanning over years to e. With your Dad as the producer and writer and you as the male lead, it may bee difficult for the studio if they have any flict with either of you. Together, you may hold much more bargaining power over them than they hold over you."

  That did make a surprising amount of sense.

  "Wait," I said, "is that why you aren't a producer of the movie as well? To reduce our family's influen it?"

  Mum smiled as we reached our car. "You cat quick."

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