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It wasn't the sunniest day is Los Angeles. It also wasn't the rainiest because people still jogged or walked around the city. Myra still waited for when she was needed at set which left her with nothing to do and a whole city to explore.
Myra, dressed in a floral shirt with a grey pleated skirt, walked to the park. She wore her hair down, a few tangles here and there. She wore her tennis shoes she wore when she first arrived in Los Angeles.
While Myra was on her way to the park, she had spotted an actual dog park. Never having been to one in person she ditched her previous plans and entered the gate enclosed area filled with running dogs.
Myra eventually stayed by a shady tree, watching the dogs. German Shepherds managed to play with Chihuahuas. She loved watching the small dog try and catch up to the bigger dogs running speed or them playing with a toy.
The owners scratched behind their dogs eat, their paw thumping against the grass.some dogs rolled in the grass while others just ran around as they enjoyed the day.
When she was little she thought it was fun to be a dog. You didn't have any stress because all you had to worry about was when you were going to be fed. You got to run around for hours and hardly get tired.
Myra was focused on watching a corgi play in the mud when something whooshed past her face. Startled, Myra jumped away from the tree a few inches. I'm thw ground lay a blue and black tug you that was falling apart.
"I'm so sorry!" A man in his twenties came rushing over along with his dog, a white bordr collie.
"It's fine," assured Myra to the man.
He wore a short sleeved shirt that had a small stain on the side. His jeans wire ripped in places but his shoes looked freshly bought. He had dark hair and olive toned skin. His eyes a hazel color with the green visible in the light.
"I'm Chris," he introduced as he grabbed the toy off the ground. He threw it in the opposite direction of where they stood and the dog took off in a fast run.
"I'm Myra," she nodded.
"I like your accent. Where are you from?" Chris asked referring to the Indian accent picked up from her mother.
"I'm from Greenboro, North Carolina, but my mother was born in Mangalore, which is in India," explained Myra the same way she did every time someone complimented her voice.
"What about your dad?" Chris asked as his dog returned with the toy in his mouth.
"My dad, he's African American, was born in Jamshedpur while he parents were there for a vacation. He came back to the states but returned to India on a visit and he met my mom. They had me two year later and they married a little after I was born," she told him.
"So why are you here?" Chris asked again.
"I actually auditioned for this role in a music video," Myra confirmed.
"What music video?" Chris questioned as he leaned against the tree.
"Michael Jackson's Thriller," She replied nonchalantly.
Chris looked incredibly surprised, mainly because she said the name like he an old friend. "Did you get the part?"
"You have to wait and see because filming hasn't even begun yet, at least I think," she tried to throw him off.
"Shit," Chris nurtured as he looked at his watch. "I gotta go, but maybe I can see you around sometime?"
"Sure," Myra nodded with a smile, finding him to be pleasurable to be around.
"I have a pen, can I write my number down for you?" Chris asked as he pulled a pen from his pocket.
"Sure. Write it on my wrist so I don't forget," Myra held out her wrist for him to write it on.
He quickly scribbled his phone number down on her wrist. When he finished he put the pen away and went to go search for his dog. Myra watched him leave before she decided she needed to leave.
The entire walk to the motel she was smiling. She really wanted to see him again.
