The Ugly Duckling (Excerpt)

Struggling

"Cut!" Pagliani yelled impatiently, and I didn't blame him.

Although I was alone in this scene, and only ten people were in the vicinity, I couldn't get into character.

Druscilla's presence and her enjoyment of my struggles didn't help.

This was the first scene I filmed since the kiss, and it wasn't going well.

"Get Jeanette and be quick. Time's money!" he called to one of the production assistants. We were close to the house, and he quickly jogged in that direction.

"Bit off more than you can chew, chubby?" Druscilla needled, and I struggled to bite back a retort.

Tension knotted my shoulders and stiffened my neck. Stuck in my own head, her asides got to me and were not helping matters.

"Sit down, Mercedes, take a few deep breaths and relax," Pagliani suggested, sending another production assistant over with a bottle of iced water.

I took a seat on the chair with my name on it and never felt more like a fake in my life. Ignoring Druscilla took a great deal of effort, or "Bitchzilla" as Sherise called her. I hadn't seen much of my friend the last couple of days, and I missed her, but she must be busy.

"Go home before you cost my father a lot of money, and he has to reshoot every scene you were in before you quit."

Druscilla taunted with a smirk, hiding behind her water bottle as she pretended to drink so Pagliani wouldn't see her talking to me.

The director had already warned her once and wasn't in the habit of repeating himself.

Harris had a meeting with the investors on a zoom call, who were not convinced he made the right choice in casting me as the lead, and just at that moment, I agreed.

We'd already wasted an hour with my fumbling.

"Come with me," Jeanette said, walking past me at speed, and I had to hurry to keep up with her as she led some distance away.

"What the hell are you doing?" her sudden impatience stopped me short as she swiveled to face me.

"I can't do it."

"Bullshit, Mercedes. You're letting that bitch in your head and every bitch before her. Stop being Mercedes trying to act and be Arielle, as I've seen you do half a dozen times. Let go of yourself. Shift gears. You can do it."

She took me by my shoulders, our eyes inches apart as she towered over me.

"I believe in you. Forget everyone else; concentrate on Arielle. I'll stay for a bit if you need help and put a leash on that damned Chihuahua. Take a deep breath, and release. Again. Stop shaking, and find that place where it's just you and Arielle. Now, take your time, adjust, and do what you do best."

As I returned to the impromptu set, my gaze caught in that of Druscilla. She smirked and winked at me. Anger boiled through my veins like a floodgate collapsing, doing something unexpected; it shored up my determination instead of making me doubt myself.

"Are you ready? We'll run it once more so you can settle and do it again. Camera, action..."

Pagliani had calmed down, a worried crease between his brows. If my previous aptitude proved to be a fluke, his reputation would be on the line.

Everything changed. I stepped into Arielle's skin, and Mercedes became an awareness somewhere at the periphery of my consciousness, like a spectator. The cameras rolled, but they were unimportant as the place in my mind became more real than what surrounded me.

"Cut, that's a wrap," Pagliani called, ripping me from the realms of my imagination, smiling as he got to his feet and clapped his hands with some enthusiasm, something he rarely did.