The Infinity Sign

Chapter 2: Captured

Dedicated to hellvis-

Because she made me smile :)

Chapter 2: Captured

The beeping sound of my cell phone interrupted the silence that filled the car. My father insisted to give me a ride to the theater before he headed to his meeting. His eyes, which were covered with dark sunglasses, were focused at the road. I glanced at the side mirror and a pair of swollen orbs stared back at me. I should have brought my own glasses.

The overwhelming smell of man’s cologne was all I could inhale inside the car. The mixture of mint and whatever nose-crinkling spices made me think that Dad poured himself a bottle of perfume instead of warm water.

The suffocating scent intensified the headache that I received this morning. After the conversation with Dad, I spent the rest of my sleeping time just staring at the shoebox of my mother. There was a chaos in my mind as I debated against myself. In the end, I decided not to open it.

There was another beep from my phone and I forced myself to read the message. It was from Alex George, a plump man with thick glasses who happened to be my director. It was probably another threat because I was already ten minutes late.

“Where are you? Get here quick or I’ll throw you out of the spotlight.”

Alex hated people who always fail to come on time. Unfortunately, I was one of them. I tapped the screen of my phone and typed a short reply.

The building finally came into my sight after a few more minutes of riding in silence. I checked out my watch and was relieved to see that it was only fifteen minutes after the call time.

“Thanks for the ride, Dad.” I kissed my father’s cheek and made my way out of the car.

“Take care, sweetheart. I love you,” He answered, waving his hand.

As the car disappeared from my view, I ran towards the building. Alex’s office was located on the third floor and I had to use the stairs. The moment I reached his door, I was already out of breath.

The smothering smell of cigarettes filled my lungs as I stepped into his office. The familiar stench greeted my nose and I suddenly felt the urge to get out. I wondered why artists could not live without those nasty sticks of poison. As I silently cursed the makers of cigars in my head, the voice of my director interrupted my thoughts.

“You’re late, Brooke. Again. Now sign here and move to the studio immediately,” His voice could have been frightening if he was not using it every time. I walked towards the table and signed my name on the attendance book. I gave him a nod as courtesy and closed the door behind me. The best way to mess up with Alex was to say the word sorry after you did something wrong. And I knew better than to do that.

The air outside his office was surprisingly fresh. I inhaled, and imagined the smoke being slowly washed away by the flow of oxygen in my lungs. I walked down the stairs and looked for the studio.

The theater never failed to amaze me. It was not as classy as the main theaters in the city, but it was artistic and presentable enough. Well, except for Alex’s office. Its walls were covered with posters of various productions and the trophies were not even arranged properly. Ashes were evident on his table. I was always wondering why he could not shoot it properly inside the ashtray. If it was a day of failure for him, the room would swallow anyone up with the stench of cigars, beer and puke mixed all together. It was a mess, to say the least. If he was just kinder to me, I would volunteer to clean it up for him.

I had been a member of the theater association for two years now. I auditioned when I was seventeen and I had been one of those lucky students from the art academy who made it in. This had been my second home, a place where my passion had been shaped.