Spring Awakening

Before it was a critically acclaimed Broadway musical, Spring Awakening was just a rarely performed play by Franz Wedekind that somehow managed to get produced at NYU's School of Ed in my second year.

At the time I auditioned for the play, I was not anywhere near being out of the closet.

The initial audition was just a monologue. The piece I always did was from a very bad, never produced play called The Girl's Guide to Chaos, or something like that. In performing the monologue I had to act put upon and make puppy dog eyes, actions I was very very good at. Good enough to get a call back. The callback was scene work! Great. I excelled at this.

The scene could not have been more appropriate: act two, Hans and Ernst. I was to read Ernst, the naive young man who kisses another boy for the very first time. So, again, puppy dog eyes were called for. As we waited in the classroom for our audition, someone came in and wrote the names of the pairs who would be reading together on the chalkboard. Everyone in the room seemed to know each other which, strangely, didn't bother me. Most of them seemed to be students of Tisch School of the Arts. This didn't bother me so much as fuel an intense jealousy. They were real actors. I was only pretending. Suddenly, I heard someone calling out my name. Was it my turn already? I looked up and raised my hand. A tall, lanky blonde boy with a prominent nose sauntered over to me.

"You're John-Vincent?" (I had yet to edit myself to initials).

"Yes."

"I'm the one auditioning with you."

"Hi."

"It says in the script that they kiss. I'm gonna kiss you."

And he walked away.

I swallowed hard and called out vaguely, "Ok."

And he did. Halfway through the scene, there we were, sitting on the floor of the black box theatre and he reached over and touched my face and pulled me in and kissed me long and deep on the mouth. Spring Awakening! This was the first time a boy had kissed me.

The only other person I had seriously kissed up to this point was a young girl named Mary. I took her to a dance at school, probably Homecoming or something. Her parents had picked us up in their big, white, dirty, messy mini van. I remember her parents being professors at U of Penn and their house and car were filled with books. Mary's mom picked us up and drove me to our modest row home in South Philly. I said good night and jumped out of the sliding door and was about to close it when I realized that Mary was right behind me. I don't know how she got out so quickly. Before I knew it I was pinned to against the side of the truck and Mary's mouth was on top of mine, her tongue making huge wet circles. As she did this I stared blankly at the empty dark school yard across the street. Mary pressed herself in to me and I could feel saliva dripping down my face. I placed my hands on her hips and gently shoved her away and said, "I had a great time. Thanks. I'll call you later." And walked up the stairs into my house. I felt nothing.

As this stranger dropped his hands from my face and pulled away, I felt a kind of nothingness and a kind of everything at the same time. I wasn't attracted to him but I certainly was attracted to the idea of a man kissing me. And I wanted to do it again. But we had to go on acting and I'm sure that whatever followed in the scene came across as very authentic. Because it was.

I was cast in the play. In a small part that didn't even make it into the musical. That's ok. It was something. Rehearsals were a blast and it was great to be doing a show again. More than anything, there were three gay boys in the show and I wanted to come out. So badly. But I didn't know how. And they all thought I was straight. I mostly stayed quiet and observed, which is my general MO anyway.

The show was set to go up in the spring. Auditions must have been toward the end of February with rehearsals through March and opening in April. One beautiful Saturday afternoon a few of us were hanging out in the park and the Wendla and Melchior decided to rehearse the switch scene.

Do you know what this is?

Wendla runs into Melchior and tells him that one of her friends gets beat by her father. Wendla says she's never been hit in her entire life and would Melchior do it, with this stick? And Melchior does do it. And Melchior gets into it, to the point of calling Wendla a "little bitch."

So after running the lines a few times, our Wendla and Melchior decide to do it all out in Washington Square Park. Other cast members have drifted away by this point but I'm there, front and center, watching. And the switch comes out. And Melchior starts to hit Wendla. And it escalates. And a man comes running over and pulls the switch out of Melchior's hand screaming, "What do you think you're doing? Are you crazy? I'm calling the cops!"

We do our best to talk him down and explain that we're rehearsing and it's a play and he seems to get it but he suggests, through gritted teeth, that we best practice scenes like that indoors and what kind of play is it anyway.

Melchior and Wendla wander away. I'm done for the day and I wander over to the fountain and right into Moritz who I have the biggest crush on, and he's gay.

We chat for a little and lean our heads against the back of the fountain. I look at him and he has his eyes closed and a faint smile on his mouth as the sun shines brightly on his face. We sit in silence for what seems like forever and then suddenly rain drops start to fall. We jump up and he pulls out an umbrella and we begin walking up University Place to our respective dorms. He offers me space under the umbrella but I politely decline, "I love the rain."

It starts to pour down harder and harder. The walk seems endless and it's almost time to say goodbye and there's something I still have to do.

I'm completely soaked through at this point and I've walked four blocks out of my way when Moritz says, "Well. Ok. This is where I turn off." He starts to walk away when I choke his name out of my throat.

He turns. "Yes?"

"Would you, uhm,..." I can't look at him. I look at my sneakers standing in a rising puddle and feel the sticky wetness of my shirt clinging to me. "Would you, uhm, like to go out some time?" And in my head I'm saying, please don't make me say more than that. You know what I mean. Please say Yes. Please say Yes.

He looks startled and then uncomfortable. And I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I thank God for the rain.

"Aw. That's sweet. Thanks, but I don't think that's a good idea."

"Yeah. Ok. Cool. I'll see you at rehearsal."

And I walk through the rain, back to my dorm.