The Act|| Tarasia

Chapter Three

Taraji's POV

Laughter and chatter combined with the chimes of clinking silverware filled Oprah's big ass dining room as food and fellowship was shared among the cast and crew. This type of camaraderie is one of the few things I miss about being apart of a studio production. Tirelessly fighting for fair wages has taken the joy out of acting for me, but maybe this project is exactly what I need to get some of that joy and fulfillment back. I was seated in between Fantasia and Danielle Brooks, and I was thankful for the arrangement because I was having a ball talking to them. I already know Danielle from just being in the industry as a fellow black actress, and I look forward to getting to know Fantasia. They have done nothing but make me laugh to tears since I sat down between them. The longer I talk to them, the more comfortable I'm starting to feel about this role, but I'm still not entirely convinced. I'm here, but am I really here?

Danielle: So Taraji, I've done a lot of tv and independent movies, but I've never been apart of a studio film before. What advice do you have for me about getting my big screen cherry popped?

I guffawed at her choice of words, taken aback by the delivery. Fantasia laughed along with me, leaning into me closely and falling all over me. A little of her mimosa spilled on my lap, but I was too hysterical to care or pay much attention to it. Everyone was watching us with expression of amusements, probably wishing that they could be in on the joke even as they were immersed in their own conversations.

Taraji: The best advice I could give for you getting your big screen cherry popped, as you so elegantly put it, is to read every inch of your contract. Don't let a drop of ink get past you. Nobody is going to have your own back like you do. I have no problem giving you advice and pouring into you because that's what I'm here for, but at the end of the day whatever dotted line you sign will have your name on it.

Fantasia: Well what about when it's actually time to perform? I don't know if you know this, but I played Celie in the Broadway play, and adopting her character took a heavy toll on me. I didn't know how to turn her off. I started taking her home with me, like I couldn't let her go. Her pain and struggles became my own. It damn near made me never want to act again. Have you ever experienced anything like that with a character?

Taraji: Learning how to let go of a character just comes with time and experience. I understand how easy it can be to lose yourself in a role, especially when the subject matter is as dark as the subject matter in The Color Purple. A supportive cast and crew will keep you grounded, they won't allow you to fall too deep into a character. You don't have to worry about that. I'll be there to make you smile and laugh, and bring you out of whatever you're stuck in. You won't be able to get rid of me, neither one of you.

I gave them a wink, sipping my drink. I couldn't help but to grin when I felt their arms envelop me in a group hug. Oprah captured the moment on her phone, most likely posting it to her Instagram to tease her followers. Blitz stood up and tapped his fork on his champagne flute, causing a hush to wash over the room.

Blitz: I just want to thank you all for being here today. I can't thank you enough for deciding to take a chance on me and my vision. I know that The Color Purple has been done 1000 times before, but nobody has ever done it in the way that I plan to do it. I truly believe that this will be the movie of the year. Hell, with the undeniable talent that I see in this room, how could it not? I want everyone to raise their glasses and make a toast to painting the town purple!

Everyone echoed his toast before clinking our glasses together, followed by clapping and cheering. For some reason that I can't explain, I was suddenly overcome with emotion. I've been wanting to be apart of something like this, something bigger than myself, since I did Empire. But what if I'm not meant to be here? What if my singing voice isn't good enough to do Shug Avery justice? And then to have to sing next to Fantasia? I don't know when I started doubting myself so much, but it's annoying as fuck and I don't know how to stop.

Not wanting to sour the overall jovial mood, I excused myself from the table. I walked around upstairs to gather my thoughts until I found a balcony. It overlooked the entire estate from the back viewpoint. I leaned against the stone barricade, looking out at the sky. Tears cascaded down my cheeks and I didn't try to stop them. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I feel so lost, like I know where I'm supposed to be going, but the pathway doesn't feel right. I'm surrounded by all of these people with their own stories and struggles, and they all admire me. Why can't that be enough? Why do I crave the conviction of being seen and heard by them? Here I am having brunch in Oprah Winfrey's house, and I'm fucking crying for no reason. Depression and anxiety are some big bitches, and they're jumping my ass right now.

Golds and oranges began to slowly fade into pinks and purples. My father is up there painting the sky again, showing me his best work.

Taraji:*sighs* Daddy, I need you so bad right now. I need you to tell me that I'm strong and that I'm beautiful. It doesn't matter that other people think so. I need to hear you say it. If I could just talk to you one last time-

I shut down when I heard heels clicking behind me. I turned around to find Fantasia standing there. Did she hear any of that? How long has she been watching me? In that moment, I could have thrown myself over the balcony and let God handle the rest.

Fantasia: Are you ok, Taraji? Everyone is wondering where you went. Blitz wants to take a huge group photo. We need your pretty face in the picture.

Taraji: I'll be back in a second. You can go ahead without me.

Fantasia: Are you sure? You don't look like you want to be alone right now.

Taraji: That's the whole reason why I came out here. To be alone.

I turned my back on her to look back out at the sky. I felt bad for being so mean, but I couldn't apologize for it at the moment. She came to join me, putting a few feet of space between us. She rested her chin on her fist, silently taking in the scene. I couldn't help but to notice her ass sticking in the air as she leaned on the balcony. At a later time, when I'm not crying off my makeup, I'll have to ask her what's in her diet. I know that my ass is nice, but hers is unbelievable. She's built like a stallion with the beauty of a unicorn.

Fantasia: I do the same thing. I push people away even though I know that I need them closer, because it's easier than admitting that I need anyone.

Taraji: Yeah. Why are we women like that?

Fantasia:*laughs* Because we think we don't have a choice. You know, you're a pretty crier.

Taraji: You're only saying that because you haven't really seen me cry. Trust me, it's all snot bubbles. But why do you keep calling me pretty?

Fantasia: Because you are. Us black women have to stick together, right?

She managed to put a smile on my face as she wrapped her hand up in mine. This is the third or fourth time that she's touched me since I met her, but strangely, I don't mind it. We held hands as we walked back downstairs to join everyone else for the group photos. I wonder if the camera captured all the times I was staring at her? I can just see that she sees me, and it feels so good to be seen.