Ch-71

It took some time, but finally, life was back to normalcy. I had heard somewhere that time heals all wounds. There is no substitute for a departed loved one, especially a parent, but people get used to living without them after a particular point. Evan adapted to living with us rather quickly. One thing I found strange was his insistence on fast-tracking his education using private tutors.

"I don't think this is a good idea," Mum said slowly after listening to Evan's request.

Evan was ready with his counter, "But you let Troy do it."

"Troy was already working in movies when he skipped school," Dad countered back. "He had also been recommended by multiple teachers to skip a few grades because he was that far ahead of his peers. Is that the case with you as well?"

Evan averted his gaze from everyone, shame evident in his eyes.

"Why do you want to do it?" I tried to be the voice of reason.

"I just do, okay?" Evan said petulantly.

"Trust me, bro, they won't let you do it unless you give them a very good reason for it," I said with utmost seriousness.

He didn't say anything for a few moments, before saying, "I don't like school. At all. I could tolerate it when Troy was there with me, but now, I… I don't like it."

"What do you not like about it in particular?" Dad pressed.

"Everything," came the immediate reply. "I'm not good at making friends, so I usually sit alone. Other kids make fun of me. My parents had asked a few of their friends' kids to befriend me, but even they left me alone soon after. I'm always the odd one out in my class. Mom suggested that I should try getting better grades. I did. I studied a lot and got the best grades in the class. But nothing changed."

Mum got up from her seat and hugged Evan, "But you're in England now, love. Maybe the kids here would like you more?"

"I don't want to know if they will or not," Evan insisted within her embrace. "Please let me do it. I didn't ask my parents because I didn't know that was an option. I came to know of it only when Troy did it successfully. Please!"

Mum rubbed his back softly before separating from him. She didn't even turn to Dad when she said, "Okay, we'll let you do it. But I have a condition to that. You will only pass a class if you get an A-grade in all subjects. If you don't, we'll send you to a good school, and I'll personally ensure that the kids around you are good. Okay?"

Evan nodded eagerly. "Thank you, Kathy."

Dad didn't look happy with Mum's decision, but he didn't contradict her. I personally didn't care either way whether he went to school or not. As long as Evan was happy, all was good.

(Break)

And just like that, all of us got busy in our lives again. Evan started taking personal lessons from some of the best tutors in London that money could buy. Dad got busy in the post-production of [The Chamber of Secrets]. Mum got busy with managing the home and working on some writing projects on the side. Last but not least, I got busy with my West End show again. The routine that began briefly before that terrible incident soon became the standard—six days a week, with a double show twice a week. I performed single shows on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, and double shows on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Sundays only had a matinee. My weekend consisted of Sunday evenings and Mondays.

The schedule was physically and mentally demanding. Not only did I have to perform at my 100% all the time, but I also had to meet fans, sign autographs, and such stuff daily. Earlier, such things were limited only to events like a film premiere or an award show, but since so many people came to the show to meet me, I would feel terrible if I acted like one of those entitled celebs who ignored their fans.

Strangely, I loved the hectic schedule. From the complicated choreography to singing my heart out, or those emotional scenes where I just had to stop myself from tipping over and straight out start crying on stage, I loved it all. Yet, that didn't stop me from getting bone-tired at the end of the day. Sometimes all I could do at night was lie down in my bed with sore muscles. The only saving grace to it all was the sauna room Dad had built at our place for relaxation. He had even booked regular morning home massage sessions for me to get over the fatigue of such a hectic work routine. I got three massages a week, the maximum number allowed for my body without affecting it adversely, and I have to say that it helped me a lot.

Before I knew it, September had gone by, a full month spent on the previews. With the arrival of October came the beginning of the 'real' performances. But other than a slight pressure of knowing that I would be judged for my performance this time by the critics, I performed as usual. For me, every performance, be it preview or not, was as real as could be.

The audience response was the usual, which means they went batshit crazy multiple times during the performance. I had gotten so used to it by now that I had forgotten that this is not the norm for most theater productions. The show had sold out more than $13 million worth of tickets in the advance booking session, which was great considering that the initial budget of the production was a staggering $9 million. Despite that, it would take months, if not a full year, to recoup all the costs because theater economics worked very differently from their movie counterparts.

If a mid to high-budget movie makes three times its budget, it is considered a hit. So a film made on a budget of, say, $50 million, needs to earn at least $150 million to be considered a success. But that was not the case on Broadway. Sometimes, even if you sell tickets as much as 10 times your initial budget, your show may still make a loss. And the reason for that is theater shows' costs are determined weekly.

The cast and the crew have to be paid on a per-week basis. So is the theater rent, and royalties to Lee Hall, Elton John, and Stephen Daldry for their amazing work on the show. All in all, the weekly expenses of the show came out to be $450,000. We were making $13 million for the three months that I was supposed to be present in person, or roughly a million each week. So essentially, we would recover a little over $7 million of the initial $9 million investment. The remaining amount would be invested to finance the Broadway show in New York.

The tickets sold for the show are just one aspect of theater revenue. Other streams of revenue include sales of food and beverages, and merchandise of the show, like cassettes and CDs of cast recordings, T-shirts, posters, mugs, and things like that. Dad had casually asked me once if I wanted to sign all these items to increase their value, but I shot down that idea immediately. I loved talking to my fans, but I hated signing stuff. That doesn't mean I don't do it if someone requests politely, but usually, when you start signing stuff, it starts a chain reaction, and then you're just doing that for quite some time.

Anyway, the snacks and memorabilia offered at a theater are priced much higher than what you'd get in a normal market because the audience coming to West End and Broadway theaters are on the elite side compared to moviegoers, thus they are willing to pay such exorbitant prices. The sales of such items were difficult to determine in advance because they vary widely between different shows.

And it would all depend upon the reviews of the critics of various newspapers and magazines in and around London. Reviews play a huge part in determining the success or failure of a big theater show. No one wants to pay as much as $50-$100 per person for a mediocre show. It is very easy for critics to kill off a good show before it could be huge because of some personal vendetta against the creators or the actors. And to be perfectly honest, if I read a scathing review of a show that I'm planning to watch, I would think twice before watching it as well.

So I was a little hesitant to read the reviews. Giving your best performance for cameras is much easier compared to performing in front of a live audience because on stage we don't have the luxury of retakes.

When I came down for breakfast that morning, I was a little surprised upon witnessing what awaited me. On the dining table, Mum had masterfully cut out and spread all the reviews of all the publications that had reviewed [Billy Elliot]. This was the first time she had done this for me, so I was a little surprised.

I raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. "Seriously?"

"Yes," Mum nodded. "Now go on and read them. I know you want to."

"Did you select only the reviews which are good?" I asked, because that's what I would have done had one of my family members been in my position.

"I didn't have to," she smiled while sipping on her morning coffee. "Come on. Read it before your Dad or Evan comes down and hogs the articles for themselves." 

With bated breath, I moved forward towards the table. My heart raced with anticipation. Each review held the potential to either validate my hard work or kill the show after the initial hype of my involvement died down.

The first one was from one of the most popular newspapers in the United Kingdom: The Times.

"The power of [Billy Elliot] as an honest tear-jerker lies in its ability to give equal weight to the sweet dreams of terpsichorean flight and the sourness of a dream-denying reality, with the two elements locked in a vital and unending dialogue. Stephen Daldry and his prodigiously inventive team make sure that the conflict is carried through on every level, from Peter Darling's inspired scene-melding choreography, which gives a new spin to the idea of the integrated musical, to Ian MacNeil's fluidly moving sets and Rick Fisher's shadow-casting lighting. And it's telling that Elton John's songs are as infused with the energy of anger as of joy."

I heaved a sigh of relief. The review was good. It went on to praise most of the people behind the scenes, and it made sense that the critics would note them before noting the actors.

"It's nice," I smiled at my mother.

"Nice?" she asked, flabbergasted. "Did you read the whole thing?"

Surprised, I looked down to see what she was referring to. I read on, and the review went on to praise the cast members one by one. All actors, old and young, were unanimously lauded by the newspaper.

"This is such a great review," I said excitedly. "This will be great publicity for the show."

"Keep going."

I did.

"But the star of the evening is none other than Troy Armitage, who plays the titular role and has produced it as well. In a stunning debut theater performance, Mr. Armitage embodies the essence of [Billy Elliot] with a raw energy and emotional depth that is simply mesmerizing. His portrayal of the young protagonist is both heart-wrenching and inspiring, capturing the struggles and triumphs of a boy chasing his dreams against all odds. Armitage's impeccable dance skills and undeniable stage presence make him a force to be reckoned with, marking him as a rising star in the world of theater."

"Holy shit!" I cursed out loud.

Mum tousled my hair lovingly. "Go on. Read the rest of them as well while I set up the table for your breakfast."

I nodded eagerly and went through the rest of the reviews as well.

The Daily Mail:

"Troy Armitage delivers a tour de force performance as Billy Elliot, leaving audiences spellbound with his remarkable talent and charisma. From his poignant portrayal of a boy grappling with the complexities of family and identity to his breathtaking dance sequences that command the stage with an effortless grace, Armitage's performance is nothing short of extraordinary. With each electrifying moment, he proves himself to be a true triple threat, earning him a well-deserved standing ovation."

The Guardian:

"Superstar Troy Armitage shines in the titular role of Billy Elliot, delivering a performance that is as captivating as it is emotionally resonant. His portrayal of the young protagonist is imbued with a vulnerability and authenticity that tugs at the heartstrings, while his dynamic dance abilities elevate every moment to new heights of artistry. His performance is a testament to his talent and dedication, solidifying him as the best actor of this generation."

Theater Mania:

"In his debut theater performance as Billy Elliot, Troy Armitage proves himself to be a true revelation, embodying the role with a depth and maturity far beyond his years. His portrayal of the spirited young dancer is filled with nuance and emotion, drawing audiences into Billy's world with a magnetic charm and infectious energy. Armitage's exceptional dance skills and natural stage presence make him a standout performer."

As I read each glowing review, a sense of pride and gratitude washed over me. This was a much better critical response than I had ever expected.

"Done yet?" Mum grinned as she took the seat beside me and placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of me.

"Yes," I grinned at her. "This is good. This is so good! With these reviews, we'll rule the theater world for years to come, even when I have moved on to other projects and am too old to play Billy."

"True," she nodded before going silent as a troubling look crossed her face.

"Everything alright?" I asked gently.

"It is," she assured me. "It's just that… I have been getting a lot of film offers for you. When I say a lot, I mean hundreds. A Hollywood producer even offered to pay you $15m upfront to work on their film."

My eyes widened at that crazy offer.

Mum continued, "When I said that we don't want to shoot in LA as an excuse, he agreed to shift the film location to London."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked with a slight frustration in my voice. I may not have said it out loud, but I didn't like the fact that my parents were controlling my career so tightly. I probably wouldn't have taken up any other non-HP film after the musical any time soon, but I would have liked to have the option at least.

"When I said that we would not accept any more film offers for you, I meant it. But I also don't want you to think that I took away something big from you. I haven't talked to your father about it because I wanted your input first. You also have that standing offer from Barry Meyer. Given how much your last film earned, he would probably finance any film that you want, not just a small-budget film."

I thought about it for a few moments before saying, "Before I make my decision, can I read the scripts that they have sent for me?"

"Sure," Mum agreed easily. "I have saved the basic premise of them all on my laptop. If you like it and want to read the full thing, I can get that for you."

"Alright," I nodded in agreement.

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