Monologues for Teens: 8 Original Scripts for School Auditions

Preparing Monologues for Teens for a School Audition

Whether you are trying out for the school play or for an arts program, the steps are the same. If you are still deciding whether acting is for you, how to become an actor as a teenager is a good place to start.

Know who you are talking to. A monologue is a conversation where only one person talks. First, decide who is listening, and then decide what you want from them. Wanting something keeps your face alive. Place that listener just above the panel’s heads, not on the panel itself.

Find the turn. Somewhere in the middle, your thinking changes. For example, in “Training Wheels” below, the speaker goes from joking to confessing. Mark that line in pencil. The panel can see a change in a few seconds, and it is what separates an acted piece from a recited one.

Rehearse out loud, on your feet. Reading in your head is not rehearsing, so say it standing up, in the kitchen or the hallway, with a chair as your listener. Do it a little each day. Then try it once for a friend, because you need to know what being watched feels like.

Walk in like a person

Say your name and the title of the piece. Breathe. Start when you are ready, not when you are nervous. If the audition is recorded, the same advice applies, and our guide to recording a self-tape covers the camera side. For more on picking material at any age, see monologues for auditions.

Funny or Serious: Picking Among the Monologues for Teens

Comic pieces such as “First Shift” reward timing and a light touch. Serious ones such as “The Bench” reward stillness. If a panel asks for contrast, bring one of each. Otherwise, choose the one that makes you want to talk.

8 Original Monologues for Teens

These monologues for teens were written for this page. They work for girls, boys and any gender, and each one runs about a minute. They suit every audience: school, family, friendship, sports, first jobs and moving. You can use these monologues for auditions, classes and showcases. Please credit castingandacting.com.

1. Seen at 4:12

Teen of any gender, ages 14 to 17 · comic · about 1 minute. Talking face to face to a best friend who left a long message unanswered for six hours.

Okay, so I sent you that message at 4:12. I know the exact time because I checked it, what, forty times? It says “Seen.” Seen! You saw it and you did nothing. Did you not like the joke? It was a good joke. I rewrote it three times. The first draft had a typo, the second had too many exclamation points, and the third one was perfect.

Then I thought, maybe her phone died. So I looked at your page, and you posted a picture of a sandwich. A sandwich! You had enough battery for a sandwich. Fine. I’m not mad. I’m being very normal about this. I just want you to know that the sandwich looks great. Also, can you please say something? Anything. Even a thumbs up. I’ll take the thumbs up.

How to play it: keep the panic polite. You want an answer without admitting how much it matters. Let “Fine” be a real decision, and look up at your friend on the last line.

2. The Bench

Teen of any gender, ages 15 to 18 · dramatic · about 1 minute. Talking to a soccer coach after practice, before the lineup goes up.

Coach, can I say something before you post the lineup? I know what it says. I’ve been on the bench for eleven games. Eleven. I count them, because nobody else does.

I’m not asking you to start me. You told me to be proud of being a good teammate, and I am. I yell the loudest from the sideline. I bring the oranges. I pull in the nets. But I also run extra laps at six in the morning when nobody is watching, and I’m tired of being the person who is happy just to be here. I want to be good. I want to be the one you forget to take off. Give me ten minutes on Saturday. If I’m bad, I’ll never ask again. And if I’m not, then you’ll have a problem, and I really want you to have that problem.

How to play it: the objective is ten minutes of playing time. Stay steady, then let your voice crack a little on “I want to be good.” Look at the coach for the whole last line.

3. First Shift

Teen of any gender, ages 15 to 18 · comic · about 1 minute. Talking to a customer at an ice cream shop on a very first day at work.

Hi, welcome, what can I get you? Great choice. One scoop of mint chip. It’s my first day, so I’ve been practicing, and this is going to be a perfect scoop. Okay. The scoop is doing a thing. It’s stuck. It likes the container better than the cone. Hang on. My manager gave me a tip. She said, “Just commit.” So I’m committing.

And it’s on the floor. Don’t worry, I’ll make you a new one. Honestly, the floor is the happier one. Okay, second try. You’re so patient, thank you, because most people would be rolling their eyes right now. Here. It’s a little lopsided. That’s the artisan style. Please don’t tell my manager I said that, and please come back tomorrow so I can do better.

How to play it: be kind to the customer and a little hard on yourself. Make the scoop real with your hands, and let the floor moment last one full beat before you recover.

4. Moving Boxes

Teen of any gender, ages 13 to 16 · dramatic · about 1 minute. Talking to a best friend on the floor of an empty bedroom, the day before moving away.

Don’t help me with that one. It’s the box of stuff I don’t know where to put. My mom says every move has one. I keep telling everyone it’s only three hours away. Three hours is nothing, right? People drive three hours for good pizza.

But you and I never needed a drive. You live four houses down. I can hear your dog from my kitchen. Tomorrow I’ll wake up under a different ceiling, and nobody will know how I take my cereal. I’m not going to cry. I decided that in the car. I’m only going to say this once, so listen. You’re the first person who made me feel like I belonged without trying. So if it gets weird, and we text less, remember this floor. Okay. Now hand me the tape. The box won’t close itself.

How to play it: the joke about pizza is armor. Let it fall away at “But you and I,” and keep the tape line light, because the emotion is already on the table.

5. Will It Erupt?

Teen of any gender, ages 13 to 15 · comic · about 1 minute. Presenting a science fair project to the judges while the volcano refuses to work.

Good morning, judges. My project is called “Will It Erupt?” and today the answer is, let’s see. My hypothesis was that vinegar and baking soda make a spectacular eruption. I tested it twelve times at home. Twelve eruptions. My dog was scared of every one.

Right now, with you and your clipboards, the volcano is thinking. It’s thinking very hard. Scientists call this a delayed reaction. I call it stage fright. Volcanoes get it too, apparently. Wait for it. Okay, nothing. So my new conclusion is that results depend on the audience. I want to thank my sister, who said it would be fine, my dad, who built the mountain, and the volcano, for teaching me humility. Any questions? Oh. Oh, it’s going. It’s going! Please step back!

How to play it: stay a confident scientist while everything fails. The comedy comes from how calm you are, so save the panic for the very last line.

6. The Dinner Table

Teen of any gender, ages 16 to 18 · dramatic · about 1 minute. Talking to both parents over dinner about wanting to study theater.

I need to say something, and I need you to let me finish. I know the plan. Engineering, then a steady job, then a house with a yard. You’ve been saving for that plan since before I could read, and I’m grateful. I really am.

But I’ve been getting up at five for two months to work on a scene, and it doesn’t feel like work. It feels like the only hour when I’m awake. I’m not asking you to say yes tonight. I’m asking you to come to the school show on Friday and just watch me. If you still think I’m wasting my time, I’ll listen. I’ll really listen. But I can’t spend four more years waiting for you to see me when I could be showing you. Could you pass the potatoes? My hands are shaking, and I need something to hold.

How to play it: you want permission to be seen, not a fight. Look at one parent, then the other, and let the potatoes line be a small, human laugh through nerves.

7. Training Wheels

Teen of any gender, ages 15 to 17 · dramatic with warmth · about 1 minute. Talking to a little brother who is afraid to ride a bike after falling.

Hey. Look at me, not at the ground. The ground is where you’re going if you keep staring at it. That’s a joke. Sort of. Listen. When I was your age, I fell off this exact bike, scraped both knees and cried so loud the neighbors came out. Dad didn’t say “get up.” He sat on the curb next to me and waited. So I’ll sit here and wait too.

I’ll tell you a secret. I’m not that brave. I’m scared of tests, new places and the dark hallway at night. What I do is pretend to be brave for ten seconds. Only ten. Then it’s already happening. Ready? I’m holding the seat. I’ve got you. I’m holding. You know I let go four seconds ago, right? Look at you.

How to play it: speak low and slow, like someone teaching. The secret is the turn, so say it plainly. Let the last two words land as pure pride.

8. Group Project

Teen of any gender, ages 15 to 18 · comic · about 1 minute. Talking to three classmates the night before a presentation, with one slide done.

Okay, team, let me summarize. The presentation is tomorrow at nine. We have four people and one slide. One. And it’s the title slide. Jordan, you said you’d do the research, and you did, in the sense that you looked at the topic. Priya, you’re “working on the images,” which I’ve learned means you’re on your phone.

I’m not angry. I’m calm. I’m so calm that I stayed up and made nineteen slides, a script and a color scheme. Yes, I gave myself the longest part, because I trust me. Here’s my offer. Each of you takes two slides, and nobody has to learn anything tonight except their own lines. Deal? Great. Also, we’re called “The Four Winds,” because the other option was only my name, and I’m trying to grow as a person.

How to play it: the lie is “I’m calm.” Smile too hard while you say it, then turn the offer into something real. Talk to each classmate by name, one at a time.

Monologues for Teens: A Note for Parents and Teachers

Choosing material for a young actor is its own small art. Above all, let the teen choose. A piece they like will always beat a piece an adult likes. Read it together, ask what the character wants, and skip anything that feels too grown-up for their age.

Practice a little every day, because a monologue learned the night before sounds learned. When you give feedback, be specific. “I believed you when you stopped” helps more than “Great job.” Teachers can also use these pieces as warm-ups: pair students, let one speak and one listen, then swap roles.

All eight are free of violence, sex, drugs and self-harm, so they suit every classroom and family. If a teen is ready to audition for professional work, read auditions for kids and teens and how to get your child into acting. Before sending any photo or video, check how to spot a fake casting call.

More Monologues

• Monologues: the full library
• Comedic monologues
• Dramatic monologues
• Monologues for women
• Monologues for men
• Shakespeare monologues
• Six short monologues for auditions

Frequently asked questions

What is a good monologue for a teenager?

One that sounds like you and fits in about a minute. A small, true situation, like a friend moving or a first job, usually works better than a huge dramatic one.

How long should a teen monologue be?

Most school auditions ask for one minute, and some ask for up to two. That is roughly 130 to 160 words at a natural pace. Always check the instructions you were given.

Should I pick a funny or a serious monologue?

Choose the one you can play honestly. If the audition allows two, bring one of each so the panel sees your range.

Can I use these monologues in a school audition?

Yes. You can use them for auditions, classes and showcases. Please credit castingandacting.com.

Do I need to memorize it?

Yes, unless the audition says otherwise. Know it well enough that you can look at your listener instead of at a page.

Reviewed in November 2026.