#also funnily enough despite this. my dad wanted my mom cause “he could fix her”

[wysteriadelights]

Btw. Religious trauma this. Religious trauma that. But put a finger down if you have a dad who was touched by a demon and this curse has spread unto your bloodline and you are suffering The Curse Of The Father and u wish it was /j but everyone around him Won't Talk abt the Posession Era and he GENUINELY acts like humanity is a new concept to him a lot and can't go five seconds without going "I wish... I had killed more" and considering how many Unfortunate Events hit your life on a monthly, weekly, and even daily basis. You're starting to fucking believe the Religious trauma is a whole different level that a confessional booth can never handle.

[ofravens-andwritingdesks]

Nothing So Well As You: Chapter One

Aka the Anderperry and Cheeks Theater AU I promised on my main and an excuse to write about the theater my friends and I actually spent a lot of time in during the festival of new works when I lived in Roanoke last year. It will go up on my AO3 one of these days I promise

Summary: Fresh out of college, playwright Todd Anderson moves to Roanoke, Virginia to be in the place to be for new plays. He enters is play Nothing So Well As You, a play on Shakespeare’s Much Ado, into the Roanoke Festival of New Works, never dreaming it will be chosen. And when it is, his world turns upside down. Especially once he meets the man playing his romantic lead….

Chapter One

It was a strange turn of events that caused Todd Anderson to move from his college town in Vermont down to Roanoke, Virginia. But mostly, it was the fact that his college advisor had told him that Roanoke was the place to be for playwrights trying to establish themselves. New York would come in time, when he was older and had some plays under his belt. But since he was just starting out, he wanted to be in Roanoke.

So when he graduated, he picked up his bags and moved. He got himself a decently paying job at a local publishing company. He was mostly doing organizational work, but he didn’t mind. The simple work meant that he could spend more time with his mind wandering so he could tweak his play and not get behind.

He had been writing and editing this play for over a year. It had been his senior thesis. John Keating, who had been Todd’s advisor at school, had only one real complaint about the boy: his perfectionism meant he never believed his writing was finished, and it would be his downfall in the professional world. Todd had never actually believed that until he was staring down the deadline for entries to be considered for the Roanoke Festival of New Works with a play he wasn’t one hundred percent satisfied with. In the end, he submitted it while also thinking of things he could have fixed. Promised he would fix if he got accepted. He didn’t think he would. Here he was, a nobody fresh out of college, being considered among writers who had been doing this for years if not their whole lives. No, he didn’t stand a chance.

So when he received an email from a Charlie Dalton, who informed him that he would be directing his play in the Festival of New Works and wanted to know how soon he could hold auditions, he nearly started crying in the middle of the office he was working in. When he could finally compose himself to tell the concerned middle aged women working with him why he looked so floored, they all cheered for him. They had already been planning on attending, but now they had all the more reason to.

So soon, Todd Anderson was sitting in a room at the Mill Mountain Theater, sitting behind a desk with the man who would be directing his play, waiting for people to file in for auditions.

Charlie had clearly been doing this for a while. He was at least familiar with the way things worked at this theater, as proven by his relaxed and almost arrogant attitude about the entire ordeal as he explained it to Todd. “Alright, so this shouldn’ take too long. I’ve already picked out all the behind the scenes guys, so you won’ have to worry about that. We always recruit from the local women’s college. They’ve got a great theater program, they’ll be a good asset to your play. Some’ll probably audition too, but I don’ see ‘em gettin’ more than ensemble.” He had a thick drawl, one that was unusual for the locals he had heard from around here. They weren’t so below the mason-dixon as to warrant the accent coming from his mouth.

“Where are you from?” Todd asked absentmindedly.

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows. “Georgia. Went to Virginia Tech, but spent most of my time here, despite the bitch of a drive. Can I start callin’ people in now?”

Todd felt so completely out of his element. He knew how theater worked, in theory. He had taken a couple of theater classes in order to better understand how to write plays. But he had never actually been on this side of it all. He had never imagined that he would actually get here. But Charlie clearly knew what he was doing and it made Todd feel like a complete idiot. He just nodded and Charlie started calling people in for their auditions.

It went smoothly, for the most part. Todd didn’t know how he would ever cast this play on his own. He could see so many of the people auditioning playing the parts he had written. But he supposed that was what Charlie was there for. He had an eye for these things. And Todd could tell when a person auditioning wasn’t going to get the part just by the way Charlie held himself. His body would stiffen ever so slightly if he didn’t like the acting choices a person was making. He managed to hold his tongue about it, but Todd felt bad that the person in front of him believed they had a chance.

Just after a girl with a curly bob left her audition, a tall boy walked in. Todd could have fallen out of his seat. The way he smiled at the two of them put all of the stage lights to shame. His brown hair was neatly put into place. He was wearing a deep blue sweater and khaki pants, but Todd could forgive the choice of pants for the sheer warmth the boy brought into the room. And he knew next to nothing about casting, but he couldn’t shake that the boy was exactly how he had pictured one of his characters while writing them

Charlie rolled his eyes, “Get out of here, Neil, you already know you’ve got the lead.”

Todd could hardly hide the excitement in him. So this was going to be his Quincy, the romantic lead for his play. Everything was falling into place.

The boy, Neil, shook his head. “I’m auditioning like everyone else, Charlie. If you don’t stop giving me leads without auditions, people are gonna start thinking I’m sleeping with you for parts.”

“So that’s not what you’re sleeping with me for?” Charlie teased, leaning forward.

Todd couldn’t explain why his heart sunk.

But Neil laughed. “You wish you were getting me.” He looked to Todd apologetically. “I’m sorry for him. He thinks he’s clever and witty, but really he’s just crass and annoying. You must be Mr. Anderson.”

Todd blushed. The boy standing in front of him couldn’t have been more than a year younger than him, if that. “T-There’s no need for the formality. Please, call me Todd.”

Neil grinned. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Todd. Your play is a work of genius. I love how it subverts the typical Shakespearean tropes and–”

“Stop flirtin’ with the playwright and get on with your audition if you insist on havin’ one. This is why people are gon’ think you’re sleepin’ with directors and playwrights for parts,” Charlie interrupted. But the director looked more amused than anything.

Neil flushed a light pink, which was nothing in comparison to the crimson that was coloring Todd’s cheeks. The boy nodded and opened up his script. He started to read Quincy’s main soliloquy, and when he did, Todd could see why Charlie had picked him out quickly to play the lead. There was a melody in the way that he performed. It was obvious that he understood the character perfectly, and loved him. In short, he was perfect. And the playwright was completely blown away. He could have sat there for the rest of the day and listened to him recite lines. But after the soliloquy was over, Charlie sent him out of the room and reminded him that rehearsals started next week.

There were only three people after Neil who auditioned, and none of them were particularly remarkable. They weren’t bad, just nothing to write home about. When the last person left, Charlie turned to Todd.

“I’m gon’ be honest, I already have your cast list figured out. So unless you wanna make a case for any particular actor…”

Todd shook his head. “Uh, no, I trust your judgement. Quincy is the most important anyway, and you’ve got him…perfect.”

Charlie smiled. “When I read the play, I thought of Neil. I told Neil he had the part the day I was assigned your director.”

“How do you know each other?” Todd wanted to know everything there was to know about this magnificent man, every minutiae and detail of him.

Charlie leaned back in his chair. “Met at VT. He was pre-med, funnily enough. But halfway through his sophomore year, he told his dad to shove it where the sun don’ shine, and look where we are now. I like to think he got that from me.”

Todd nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He flushed as the next question left his lips. “And you two arent…?”

Charlie just laughed. “Me and Neil? No way, he was just pullin’ my leg. Not my type, Neil. He’s too much of that sappy poet, hopeless romantic type. I ain’t lookin’ for that right now. Neil’s the kinda guy you bring home to Mom and Pop, settle down with. I’m the kinda guy they warn you ‘bout.” He offered Todd a wink, which made the playwright blush involuntarily. He chuckled like it was part of a game. “I’ll send out the cast and crew list tomorrow then. Rehearsals start next tuesday.” He offered his hand to shake. “Nice to meetcha, and I’m lookin’ forward to workin’ with you.”

Todd nodded and shook his hand before getting up and leaving the theater they were in. Upon exiting, he was immediately met by a curly-haired ginger with horn-rimmed glasses. “Oh! You must be Todd Anderson. Sorry to accost you like this. I’m Steven Meeks, I’ll be the stage manager for the play.” He spoke with an accent that told Todd that he was not from down south, but he couldn’t place just where.

Todd smiled. It was still so surreal to hear people talking about being on the crew for the play that he wrote. It was hard to believe that the play wasn’t just his anymore, that it belonged to other people too, that they could love it almost as much as he did.

“Nice to meet you, Steven. Have you met the director yet?”

The ginger rolled his eyes. “Please, just Meeks. And unfortunately. Charlie Dalton is the most most miserable person I’ll ever have the misfortune of working under. He thinks that Georgia accent and southern charm can get him whatever he wants. But I’m from Brooklyn and I’m not phased.”

“Brooklyn?” Todd asked, an eyebrow raised. “How’d you end up here, then? Guess I shouldn’t talk, being from Vermont.”

Meeks ran a hand through his curls, “I ask myself that question every goddamn day. Thought getting so far away from home would be nice. And the theater here is great, but I kind of can’t wait until I can go back up there. But anyway, just wanted to introduce myself. I’m sure you’ve got places to be. Nice to meet you, Todd.”

Todd smiled, “Likewise, Meeks.”

Todd made his way back to his tiny apartment just outside of Roanoke and flopped down on his couch. On the coffee table in front of him was the original, unedited copy of his play. It was hard to believe that his senior thesis had turned into all of this. It was hard to believe that in about two months time, people would be paying to see something he spent countless sleepless nights working on. And as he picked that original script up, he couldn’t help but feel like he had done something great.