How to Get Famous by Pete Johnson

self and now . . .
now, well I'm obviously sick with jealousy
at having to watch a boy being so awesomely
superb in my part. And the grisly
horror of it all must have somehow
inflamed my stomach.
    Then I stood there gasping in the way
you do after you've just been sick and
wondering if anything else was going to
tumble out of my mouth. Nothing else did.
But I still felt churned up. And then I felt
ashamed of feeling so ill and miserable on
the occasion of Georgia's great triumph. I
had no idea I was so selfish.
    If only that boy playing Colin hadn't
been quite so mega-brilliant, even better
in fact than he was at the dress rehearsal.
But I don't want to use up any more paper
on him. I suppose I ought to go and
support Georgia again now. And I will.
    I just don't want to return and start
exploding vomit over everyone.
    So give me another minute or two. OK?
    9.55 p.m.
    Something's happened.
    I was pacing around the back of the
theatre, just about to go back when I
heard . . .
    ' Help .'
    It wasn't very loud, a bit muffled in fact.
But it was coming from a door right in
front of me. I wondered if someone had got
locked in there. That's all I thought. Then
I tried the door, never really expecting it to
open. But it did.
    I blundered in, sending this guy who
must have been standing right behind it
spinning off balance. And I noticed two
things about this guy as he went flying
towards the wall. One, that he was wearing
a balaclava: the other, that he had a
gun which sprang out of his hand.
    It was a dark room, with just a desk
light giving off a pretty miserable glow.
Dimly I could see a woman lying tied up on
the ground. And there was another person
also in a balaclava, swinging towards me
and that gun – which had jumped right
across the room. He very nearly grabbed
the gun too. Only I got to it first.
    And no, I didn't do it to be brave. It
happened far too quickly for that. It was
like someone throwing a ball in your
direction and you catching it. You do it in
a flash without thinking, don't you?
    And then I thought, this can't be real. It
can't. This isn't a genuine robbery. No, I've
crashed into some sort of improvisation
exercise. They're always having them
here, aren't they? But this looks a really
tough one – things you have to go through
to be an actor today. Well, just to show how
versatile I am I shall snap right into my
part and show I can do 'split-second' acting
too.
    So I stood there waving the gun about
and saying: 'Right, on the floor,' to the two
men in the balaclavas. And they did what
I said . . . well, of course, one of them had
already been knocked onto the ground, so
he just stayed where he was.
    That gun was sliding about in my hand
like a slippery fish, while pure shock was
tingling away in every nerve of my body.
And I was waiting for someone to say,
'Wonderful improvisation, everyone. Well
done.' But no one did.
    So instead I went over to the woman
who was also lying on the floor. It was
getting quite crowded down there actually,
as it was a very small room – and I helped
her scramble up and tried untying her
arms. This took me longer than it should
have done as I'm not very good at undoing
knots. And suddenly, one of the men got
up.
    'Move one more step and I'll fire this for
certain!' I shouted (I suppose screamed
might have been a more accurate
description).
    Without a doubt, the best bit of acting
I've ever done. That guy immediately
slumped back again and both of them
became motionless. In fact, the whole
room was now very still. I carried on
untying the woman, while also shaking
the gun about in a wild and probably
highly worrying way. And after the woman
was free, she struggled to her feet. Then,
eyes half-shut, she took some deep breaths
before gasping, 'It's all right. I'll take the
gun now.'
    Rather anxiously, because she looked as
if she was about to fall over, I handed her
the gun. She didn't say a word at first, just
stood there holding the gun in one hand
and rubbing her head with the