𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 • Neil Perry

Chapter 7

OVER a week or so had passed, and the production of A Midsummer Night's Dream was officially in motion. The cast hadn't been assigned their roles yet, nor had the cast been selected, however the crew department had. With a hefty number of volunteers, the Henley Hall theatre department was thriving.

The production is set to be held at the Everett Theatre, so that's where most meetings are set to be taking place.

With the exception of the first meeting yesterday. Discussions were being had about staging and costumes and what they all imagined that to look like. Drawings were concurred and creative juices were flowing, but it was all led by Milly.

She didn't do it intentionally. She remembered things from the film and voiced it all instinctively. Then, realising her mistake, she'd play every suggestion off as her own idea.

"So they're in a forest as you're all well aware," Mrs Woolworth said, the crew gathered around a large table. She made emphatic gestures with her hands—a pen wedged between her forefingers like a cigarette. "Things are going to be dark and brooding."

"Are we going to have a tree backdrop?" A student, by the name of Sarah, asks. She's also in the costume department.

"That's entirely up for discussion. But we don't exclusively want a flat backdrop to give it away. We want to bring the stage to life somehow."

Like the cardboard trees, Milly thought to herself.

But it wasn't until she had all eyes on her that she realised her thoughts weren't at all kept to herself.

"Just distribute them across the stage so the cast can run around them," she continues. "Suspend the audience's disbelief and everything."

Mrs Woolworth chuckled, nodding in a kind of awe. "And everything."

"And if you have some of them black in contrast with the background, maybe even get a projector, it'll cast a kind of silhouette. That way the illusion that they're in a dark and brooding forest is totally obvious—I mean, more prominent," Milly has to correct herself by the end, making sure she sounds more sophisticated and eloquent as all teenagers tended to be in this day and age.

"I like that," Mrs Woolworth postures herself. "I like that a lot."

"Are we going to make the crowns?" another student asks.

"Well..." Mrs Woolworth twiddled her pen, tapping it against her notepad on the table. And whether it was unintentional or not, she looked right at Milly. Then soon enough, everyone else was too.

And it went that way for a while yesterday, the first day at the Everett Theatre—being the current day—was pretty much the same. They stepped back every once in a while to gage the stage and figure out where things should or shouldn't be.

Eventually they wrapped up for the day—which truly felt like their first real day of production—and decided to consult again on Thursday.

Once Milly pushed herself out the double doors of the auditorium with Sarah, talking between one another, she spotted Neil, shaking the hand of Mrs Woolsworth enthusiastically in both of his own.

"Thank you! Thank you! I won't give you a single reason to regret this."

Milly told Sarah she'd see her soon, deciding to hang back to talk to Neil who appeared to be on cloud nine.

"I hope not," Mrs Woolworth says, her hand free of Neil's firm handshake. "You get the letter of permission from your carers back to us as soon as possible, so we can get the ball rolling, alright?"