Yellow Moons, Stars And Stage Lights

Excellence Award in the 'Step Write Up 2011' competition

My eyes are shut. I see the crew, scurrying off the stage, as the camera awakens out of standby. I hear the Clapping Board snap, which is my cue to stride onto the set, exclaiming my dialogue. Oops. I said something wrong. The crew groan in frustration, while the director hisses at me. Later, I leave the studio, as a horde of photographers swarm me.

My eyes are open. I’m back to reality. I look out onto the dull runway, lined with dead weeds concrete slabs. The dull hum of the jet engine suddenly emerges into a fierce roar, as a muffled announcement in Chinese is spoken over the P.A System. I’m prepared to leave Australia, if that means people will leave me alone. Even if it is my home.

A few years ago, I auditioned for a major part in a television show. Whazaam – I got the part. My childhood vanished then and there on that stage. People approached me in the street, asked for autograph and picture… it was just too much. My mother somehow thought moving to China was going to be a somewhat idyllic solution to our problems.

The hiss of the Air Conditioner increases, as we speed down the runway. My heart beats the quickest it ever has. As we ascend into the sky, I look down upon my home, what seemed to be my home city was now just a clutter of blocks flat on the ground. I’m going to regret leaving, I know it. Even though I seem thrilled about it right now, I know I’m the fussy type who can never be satisfied – I’ll just drown my mother in complaints and fret by the time we move in to our new apartment in China.

My eyes are shut. I see the relief on the director’s face when we finish shooting. The translucent beams from the stage light fade, and I leave feeling free and happy. The Stage Crew drag out a table and lay it with all kinds of festive foods, as I’m invited to celebrate the end of another stressful week.

My eyes are open. A Chinese flight attendant offers me a meal, which I politely decline. Am I having doubts about moving away already? No.. that can’t be. Probably just anxiousness. May even just be nothing. I drop my head onto the plastic table in front of me, slowly drifting off to the sound of rustling food wrappers..

Hardly anybody speaks English on this building, nor is anything written in English. I feel completely out of place, the rooms are small, and old. It’s a wonderful city, but I’m feeling so unhappy here. I can’t possibly miss my old life, can I?

My eyes are shut. I see a wave of cheering people behind velvet ropes, as I stride down the carpet accompanied by my co-actors. I’m dressed expensively, and I smell like an exotic perfume. All we can do is smile proudly at our efforts.

I miss Australia.

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