She sat next to me for the show. I could smell the perfume of absolutely everyone in that cold theatre from beginning to end; thin, red playbill sitting awkwardly in my hand. Curtains drawn. Lights up! Chicago.

I could never keep up with the kids on the track in elementary school. They’d run and run in that big circle for all recess and never get tired. One minute was enough to leave me winded. And that’s kind of how it felt with friendship: I could never keep up. Children are cruel and they are eager to hurt boys they find too effeminate or shy to befriend. The awkward purgatory years of middle school didn’t bring any relief.

Starting high school came with this looming fear, this anxiety that I would once again make no friends. I hated myself for how odd I could come off and I hated the queer, stifled parts of me. And I crumpled inwards like a paper ball; immersed myself in what always seemed simple to me and kept me from putting myself out there: pure academics. Biology and chemistry and anatomy, oh my.

Spring in AP Biology class, a class that doubled as an interest and an escape from facing the social/emotional parts of me, teemed with panic-induced preparation for the big exam. After one particularly harrowing practice test, I walked out of the classroom door in near tears and straight into the hall where I noticed something dangling from a single piece of tape on the wall: “Come see ‘Chicago’ Mar. 13-15 in the Main Theatre.” With no other events pending for that Friday, I had made a plan.

Sitting right in the middle of the audience, I could smell the perfume of absolutely everyone in that room. It was overwhelming even. I’d always been a major fan of film, most kinds of music, and even those Broadway musical soundtracks you can listen to on Spotify, yet I’d never really explored that interest beyond the virtual world. But when those lights struck the stage and those Act One costumes glittered like fresh diamonds during ‘All That Jazz,’ I felt free. Stars so blinding and so quick that felt like a fantasy, a world that felt like one of those pictures up on the movie screen, crashed their way right into my reality.

I started to uncrumple that old paper ball and flatten the creases. Feeling live theatre for the first time, not just seeing Aladdin in elementary school or something like that, allowed me to figure out my truth. I needed to be on that stage. I needed to finally express myself and it needed to be through theatre; jumping out of my shell straight into this deep, beautiful pool.

Theatre brought me to her. Still dazzled from the show, I walked out of the main theatre feeling like I needed to talk about this wicked new revelation or I might just die. (“Chicago” really sticks with me still. Yes, it was that good. I still sing ‘Roxie’ at the top of my lungs in the shower.) And talking to the girl who sat next me, Anisa, who happened to sit right in the back of my AP Biology class brought me my first friend: a glimpse into what the real world could be for me. Friendship.

A late start into theatre swatted away that persistent dark cloud looming over me and let me see what my full potential could really be. “Chicago” awakened a new passion and delivered a much-needed new friend, allowing me to share the love I’ve bundled inside. Sharing the love, that’s what I want to perform for. Giving the audience hope. Giving the audience a friend…and all that jazz.

“I definitely haven’t reached my full power” - Jules Vaughn

Do you write sporadically or regularly?

Sporadically. Mainly, I write for English class but I put too much heart into it so it becomes Writing-writing.

What artists and/or writers inspired or influenced your work?

Writing and music go hand in hand in my mind so often I'll think of musical artists rather that capture the energy of my thoughts to inspire me rather than writers. Hari Nef is one magnificent writer I always think of when it comes to my artistic voice. 'Sparkling New' had me listening to my 'teen excellence' August 2020 playlist (ssebas-04 on Spotify <3).

What was the most difficult part of your writing process for this work?

Wording, definitely. It's difficulty to try to be surreal without getting so abstract it makes no sense and the reader dissipates. But, I feel if my work doesn't have those sentences that leave with feeling rather than ideas (hitting the aura rather than your brain), it's missing something.

What is your ideal writing environment?

My desk. With a candle burning. I wrote this at roughly 10am after waking up around say 5am and watching Chloe Arden videos until a college application seminar. Written in roughly an hour and thirty minutes, I'm just glad people liked it.

How do you resonate with your piece? Why is it personal to you?

I'm a confused person. Introverted, yet into theatre. Nervous, confused about life paths, comparing myself to others. Common flaws. I let my 'flaws' out into this piece.

What message do you hope to convey to the reader through your piece?

Do whatever you want. Go out there and be bold! Take life by the horns! None of this is that real so just live.

Photo by Nahuel Maretich on Unsplash

Photo by Silviu Beniamin Tofan on Unsplash