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It had taken a few somewhat intense phone calls, but Fleur had actually finally done it. She’d gotten a guy allowed inside Crystal Academy, and she was feeling rather proud of herself. Or would be, if she didn’t have enough other things to worry about. Arriving half an hour early to prepare was unusual even for her, but this was important. This wasn’t teaching some annoying fifth grader long division, which was what she’d been expecting when she put up her advertisement flyers. This was spreading the love of theater.

Everything needed to be perfect. Even her outfit, a knee length white dress under a simple denim jacket, was chosen to be cute but professional. The stage also needed to look as pretty as possible. She swept the already spotless floor, adjusted the curtains, and flipped the basic light switches so that the stage was bathed in nice rainbow light. It was… hopefully giving off a nice “theater” or at least “clean” vibe. After that she had to think about her lesson and look for materials. Some folders of scripts were around, but she had to search them for suitable ones. Hamlet, Spoon River Anthology… those were classics with good monologues so she set them out, but she knew she might have to look more if something more modern was needed. Unfortunately, most of the props and costumes were still locked away for summer. The only possibly useful thing she found was a vial of fake blood rolled into a corner, which she put with the scripts.

After that, she checked her phone and found she only had five minutes, so she headed to the front door to wait for her student.

The summer was apparently feeling the need to end dramatically, as the heat when Fleur stepped outside was almost unbearable. Luckily, her student arrived before she had time to turn into a sweaty mess. She waved as he approached, then accepted his hand. "It's nice to meet you, too, Mr. Chaudhary." She smiled back, but she really, really hoped she was saying that right.

Her first impressions were good. He seemed like he was taking this seriously, if a little too seriously. Clearly this wouldn't be like teaching a fifth grader, but unfortunately unlike with her theater friends, there probabally wouldn't be a lot of fun voices, fake sword fights, and throwing fake blood at the walls. Oh well. he was just starting out after all. Maybe she'd teach him some of that, too. "But," she continued in a fairly tame British accent as she turned towards the door, "Unless you're interviewing me, you really can call me Fleur." She opened the door as dramatically as possible, showing her masterpiece, the stage. It was... dazzling?

Hopefully.

She kept smiling as she held the door open for a few seconds, then stepped inside to the extremely refreshing air conditioning. "So... " she was back to American, and quickly walking past the aisles of seats toward the stage. "What do you want to learn most? She reached the stage and climbed onto it in a practiced motion. "I have some things here," she said, pointing, "Maybe I can help you prepare something for your family? Or try out some characters..." It was really all about him, though, what he wanted. She wouldn't do anything time consuming until she found out exactly what that was. "What's your goal?" she asked, turning away from the scripts to face him.

Fleur nodded as Isha talked about his goal. It was fairly generic, actually, but she could work with that. "Forgetting yourself is hard," she warned as she picked up one of the books and began slowly flipping through it, glancing briefly at a few pages before flipping to the table of contents . "It takes practice, but it's worth it. It's why people love theater. The costumes and lights are just extra touches." Some would disagree, but they weren't the ones onstage. They stayed behind the curtains and seemed to have just as much fun as the actors, but Fleur wasn't teaching their skills.

She was very much in her element, acting and teaching, and she was happier than she'd been in a while, so she smiled when she finally found a promising looking page and handed it over, but she wanted to be more professional than playful. "So let's get started!" She carefully lowered herself first off the stage, then into one of the soft velvet chairs in the first row of seating. She sat up straight and kept smiling.

"That," she pointed at the book, "Is Spoon River Anthology. We use it for monologues a lot. It's a book of poems, actually, and they're fairly deep. It's about dead people reflecting on their lives." Death... it had even found its way into this place she loved. At least on paper it wasn't so bad. "That one is about a poet and how he watched people. If you want to pick another that's fine, but the first thing you should do is read it out loud to get a feel for it."

“Oh…” Fleur blinked. For a moment, she was just sort of surprised, but then the embarrassment began. “I’m sorry. Of course I can find you something else… um…” Her face was burning, more than it logically should have been, but she hated messing up, and now she couldn’t really even think of a solution. There were probably some nice butterflies and rainbows and not death male scripts around somewhere, but she wasn’t sure where they were and didn’t have time to look now. Even when Isha said he would read it, Fleur didn’t really feel better. His hesitation made her uneasy, and she could suddenly see it, how the somewhat grim monologue might make someone think of real death. Personally, her grandmother’s funeral came to mind, as did the time someone had almost ripped out her soul, but she pushed those thoughts away quickly.

After the few moments of internal freakout, , she managed to stop blushing and she smiled brightly. “All right. That’s not one of the ones I studied, actually, but they’re all from the perspective of the person in the title. So basically, yes.” She still smiled, but she was more controlled and professional now, not about to go on a tangent about how playing dead characters was really, really, cool.

“Good,” said Fleur once he’d finished, which is probably what she would have said no matter what. She was being as by the book as possible, which meant being supportive. Her words, however didn’t just come from professionalism. “The first reading was mostly just to help me get a idea of where you are, and… I’m impressed, actually. I could feel your sadness, and I could connect to it.” She smiled.

“Next you need to get to know the monologue. Try not to think of it as a poem, actually. This is the fun part.” The small, professional smile turned to an all out grin as Fleur stood up and climbed onto the stage again. It felt a little better to be on the same level, and they wouldn’t have to talk as loud. “This is the part where you decide who you want to be, what you want to say. This monologue… I think it could be reflective, confused, or even happy. It all depends on you.” That was the closest she was going to come to apologizing again for the grim subject matter. “You sounded sad. Did it feel right? Is that what you want them,” a hand was waved at the empty seats, “To hear?” She was careful to keep her voice neutral.

Fleur reached the other end of the stage. Since her back was turned, she took a minute to frown at the thick velvet curtains. "Anguish is fine. It's good, even. It can be very fun, and very powerful, but..." She turned. "Only if it's his and not yours." Although she wasn't the best judge of such things, her student's sudden change of pronouns made her think he was taking it personally, somehow, and even if he wasn't she didn't like where this was going. It was supposed to be lighthearted!

"I think it's open to interpretation, honestly." She smiled again as she briskly walked back towards him to get another look at the poem. "You showed me it can be sad, which worked, but compared some of the other poems, this isn't... exactly anguished... that would be the doctor who's shunned by society after a single mistake, or the lady who kills herself because she can't take it anymore." She paused for a few seconds to look at the text again, then continued, cheerfully, "You could definitely play up the 'life is meaningless' thing, or he could even be looking back happily. I don't know. It's up to you. Personally? I think he accepted death." Maybe that was just her deeply buried emotions, though...

Fleur accepted the book and started flipping through it again. "It's not about how you feel. In a one time lesson, what you read means a lot, and you can try different ones, but in a normal play you end up reading the same part every day for months. You have to laugh and cry whether you got asked on a date or failed a test earlier." Not that either happened to her that often, but she needed obvious examples.

While she'd been talking, she'd also been looking for a specific monologue. She paused to read through it quickly, then offered it to Isha. "This is about someone with regrets, someone who wished they'd done more. I'm sure you could make it come alive." She offered up a smile. It was professional, encouraging. Then, instead of taking the effort to jump from the stage to go to the seats again, she simply walked a few feet away tot he corner of the stage and turned.

"To forget yourself, you have to learn to think like your character. You have to make the words in your head say what they're thinking. It takes practice, but anyone can do it." She shrugged. Really, she was proud of her accomplishments in theater, but of course she wasn't going to brag. "Try it."