Sitting up, I went to turn it off when the phone rang.
"Hello?" I said groggily.
"Are you ok?" came the voice on the other end.
"Liam?" I asked. "Yes, I'm fine. Are you ok?"
"Yes," he said. There was an awkward silence. "I'll see you at 1pm today."
"Ok," I said and he hung up without another word. Just then, there was a tap on the door.
"Geez, sensory overload," I mumbled, as I struggled out of bed and pulled my hair into a bun, before pulling it open. I realized I should have looked before I did that. However, it was just a room-service man standing there with a tray.
"Breakfast," he said, and I shook my head.
"I didn't order anything?"
"You're one of those actors, right?" He asked.
"Yes, but..."
"Charged to the production company then."
"Right. Uh...put it over there please," I said, and he wheeled the tray in. I signed the bill, writing in a tip to make up for my cluelessness.
Lifting the silver lid, I was greeted with a platter of fresh strawberries and hot muffins. Grinning, I dug in. I could certainly get used to this.
It turned out that breakfast became the highlight of every morning. I would arrive at rehearsal fortified by breakfast only to be screamed at by Shannon for every move I made. It got to the point where I was second-guessing things I knew, like stage right and stage left.
I felt overwhelmed at the end of every night, my head hitting the pillow with a thud. The professional performers had a lot more contacts and experience than anyone at school did, and I was way out of my league. I thought I knew everyone in the industry; Sarah and I read the trade papers obsessively. But here they were, discussing people I had never heard of, and rolling their eyes when I asked a question.
"For any Chorus members," Shannon stood up one day, clearing her throat and getting out attention. "There's a friend of mine who's casting for teenage looking girls at Torrid Night Club at 2pm today for a commercial. The shoot doesn't conflict with chorus rehearsal, so you're welcome to try your luck. I make no recommendations for anyone." Her eyes landed on me, and I knew she was basically telling me I had no shot. However, I also knew that I should take every opportunity I could, and so I made a mental note to see if I could sneak down there today, if Liam would let me. Today was only a lightening rehearsal anyway, one of the many as the show drew closer. "Demo reels can be brought in as well."
I bit my lip at that. I barely knew what a demo reel was and I was fairly certain that I didn't have one. But I had to try, at the very least.
As soon as rehearsal was over, I called Liam's direct line to ask him what I should do. But instead of his voice, his secretary answered.
"Hello?"
"Hi, it’s, uh ... Amy. Can I speak to Liam, please?"
"He's got student meetings all afternoon, Amy. But if you can come by..."
"No, I can't come by." It was already 1pm.
"Oh. Can I take a message then?"
"Just..." My mouth went dry, unsure of what to say. If I had been at school, this would be easy. I could just pop my head in and ask him. But now, we were a few miles apart and I felt like I needed his support. For the first time since this whole mess started, I couldn't get it. "Just tell him I'll be late for rehearsal, and if it's an issue, he can call me on my cell."
"Will do," she said, and I could hear her scribbling down the message. "Anything else?"
"Maybe he can call me regardless, ASAP?" I said, cursing myself for sounding so weak.
"I'll do my best, Amy," she said, and hung up, leaving me alone again.
I went up to the hotel room to get my headshot and resume and then headed back down. I could walk to the nightclub, no problem, but I still hurried. I had no idea what a commercial audition entailed. If they handed me a script, then that was no problem, I knew how to act. But this wasn't theater, so was it different? Who was I supposed to ask for? What was I supposed to do?
I was the first one there, when I got there. Luckily, someone at the front directed me to the right room, and someone else showed me where to sign in. It asked for an agency or recommendation. Remembering Shannon's words, I left it blank. I thought about putting down Liam's name or the Academy, but decided not to, at the last minute. I was here on my own, after all.
Someone else came out, and handed me a script, which made me breathe a sigh of relief. It was a commercial for a funeral home, which left a heavy feeling in my chest. How long before I saw one of those for real?
I was escorted in after only a few minutes in the waiting room. Unlike the Gatsby audition, this room was small, probably used as a changing room when the club was opened. There was just one person in it, a cameraman, who nodded to me and clicked the camera on, making the red-light flash.#p#分页标题#e#