To be nervous, or not to be nervous That is the question.
As I reached the final set of stairs I slowly and carefully started to descend them. With each individual stair, the clip clop of my shoes hitting the surface echoed-loudly through the halls. Six stairs turned into six-hundred. Feelings of anxiousness, confusion, and anticipation raced through my body. Soon I would become just one of the many competitors in a fierce competition to win the grand prize. How much expression, character, and life I placed into dull lines on a page would be judged. The quality and emotion I used to sing the notes of a song would be listened to. I shook nervously as I neared the play auditions.
With my final steps I came to a stop in front of two old large wooden doors. At the top of the doors, was a black rectangular sign with word theatre engraved in thin, white letters. I placed my sweaty, shaky, hand upon the cool metal door handle and slowly opened the heavy door. As I opened the door, its hinges squeaked in pain from old
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