The only reason I auditioned for David Roger’s play “Here and Now” was because friends had convinced me. I thought it would be a waste of time; what made them think I would make it? Then I found out I was cast to play Adele Chapman.

My emotions were mixed. Part of me was apprehensive and thought there was no way I’d be able to memorize all those lines and still get good grades! Having never been in a play, I was unsure whether I could live up to everyone’s expectations. But the rest of me was excited to perform.

Surprisingly, my lines were easier to learn than I had thought. And somehow, I was able to juggle homework and rehearsals. I was having the time of my life. My biggest problem was deciding which lipgloss to wear on stage!

As opening night approached, we practiced every day, instead of twice a week. We became tense, exhausted, and emotionally drained, forgetting lines we had known for weeks. We no longer laughed at funny bits. Our director was frustrated, constantly screaming at us to get our act together.

“The performance is in three days, and now you’re forgetting your lines? What’s gotten into you? You’re getting worse, not better!” Our fear of disapproval didn’t help. The play had lost its magic and become a chore. I began to dread rehearsals.

Opening night finally arrived and I was hyper but not nervous. When we all stood together to pray for a successful performance, it finally hit me - this was it. This was what we all had been working toward for the last two months. And that’s when I was struck by stage fright. This had not happened during any of the rehearsals. I panicked and was about to cry, but afraid if I did, I would ruin my makeup. The last thing I wanted to do was to walk on stage with mascara running down my cheeks.

Stepping into the bright lights made all my fears evaporate. I knew my lines perfectly and actually had fun. I saw my family and friends in the front row and smiled broadly before falling back into character. I had no reason to be nervous. After all, I knew my lines!

The play went by much too quickly, but something happened to all of us: we become an ensemble. After weeks of rehearsing as individuals, we were working together to put on a successful performance.

When we took our bows, relief washed over me - we had pulled it off. And yet, as we gathered for one last group hug, I felt sad. All those weeks were over, those weeks of working together, of laughing hysterically at things that were only funny to us, of failing miserably but somehow knowing we’d come through.

I knew that I would miss it all. I had come to understand Adele’s character almost as well as I understand my own. And I had fallen in love with the glamour of the stage.

But mostly, I knew I would miss the people. We had started out as a group of students whose only thing in common was the play and now, after working together, we had become friends.