“What’s your story?” I asked, and she gave me a sad smile.
“I came here when I was six, as a dancer. But when I was fifteen, I injured my IT band and killed my career.”
“Oh!” My eyes widened. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s ok,” She shrugged. “It happens to a lot of dancers. I spent a few years abroad and then came back here, and took a job managing this place. It makes me feel like I’m involved again. Here we are.”
The elevator opened to a crowd of giggling girls, who greeted Sheena and then got in as we exited.
“Hey, Tammy, there’s a package for you at the front desk,” Sheena called, and the girl called Tammy nodded, as the doors closed and we continued down the hallway. “And, 66.” She popped the key in the door, and opened it.
I gasped when I saw the inside of my room. There was a bed, a kitchen and a bathroom all crammed into a small space to make room for the living room. It held a barre running against one wall, with floor to ceiling mirrors, and hardwood floors. There was a bureau with lights around the mirror, and an extensive makeup kit, as well as a large closet with every type of hanger you could imagine. The lights in the room were all on dimmer switches that looked more complicated than some theater sound boards.
“Even when you sleep, you practise. All the rooms look like this. No one ever has an excuse to not work,” Sheena said, with a smile. My stuff was all in the center of the living room floor waiting to be unpacked. “Need anything else?”
“No, thanks,” I said, still looking around the room in awe.
“Alright, well, if you need me, I’m just a phone call away. It’s #1 on the phone,” she pointed to a houseline on the desk, and then gave me a smile, and left.
Alone in the room, I began to pull my stuff out of boxes, folding it carefully to fit in the drawers and cupboards. This place was bigger than my room at home, and I knew it was going to look sparse when I was done. However, it was my place and the very thought of that sent chills down my spine.
“Knock, Knock!”
I turned, startled, to find Liam at my door.
“Liam!” I said, before I could stop myself. “Er...I mean...Mr Swift.”
“Liam is fine.” He said, leaning against the door way with a smirk. “They told me you were finally moving in, and I wanted to make sure you had your class schedule for tomorrow.”
“Sure.” I said, looking at the desk where I had unfolded it. “I have Shakespeare in the morning, and then Theater History right after it. In the afternoon, there’s a whole block to be in the senior theater.”
“Sounds right,” he said, watching me unpack. “There should be a script for a practice show in one of your drawers. I want you to go over it before tomorrow, if you have time. We won’t perform it in full, but we’ll take it to a workshop level in class.”
“Right,” I said, looking up at him. I couldn’t believe how fast my heart was beating. Here I was, standing a few feet away from one of the biggest movie stars on the planet (or at least, he used to be), and about to start theater school.
“I brought you this,” he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a newspaper. My eyes widened as I recognized our picture on the front.
“Oh wow!” I couldn’t stop myself from ripping it from his hands, and he laughed at my excitement.