I was ushered into a small carpeted room which reeked of testosterone - the waiting room. Auditions were well underway just through the door standing on the opposite side of the room. Men of all shapes and sizes were all gunning for the same role as I was - Ben Wrightman, Red Sox fanatic with a love for Lindsey Meeks. Drew had already scored the role of Lindsey partially because of her close friendship the producer.
I studied the fine print script in my lap. I'd always had bad eye sight but sitting there trying to read this .001 font, I realized I was legally blind. My glasses were home in New York instead of on my stupid, stubborn face. I memorized the first line on the paper, barely. It was a scene with Ben and Lindsey walking in the park.
"You're funny, Ben-"
"Wrightman."
"You forgot my last name."
"No, I just blanked."
"I know why you forgot. That's alright. I bet when you talk to your friends you call me Ben the school teacher, am I right?"
"Well?"
"That's okay."
"What do you call me to your friends?"
*Takes face into hands*
"I call you Lindsey, The Vomit Girl, The Puker, Pukey."
Well, isn't that romantic? This Ben dude and I sound like the exact same guy. After all the auditions in my life - Banana's comedy club, Groundling's, SNL... You'd think I'd be over nerves by now. My leg bounced nervously on the floor as I waited for my turn. The scene is a conversation between two people. Since Drew already got the part, would she be the one I would be acting with? She left me alone to study the script once I settled down.
"Mr... uh, Jimmy Fallon. It's your turn."
I stood, wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans, and walked through the door to a room with about 10 other people - speculators, really. A small table was set up in front of the carpeted area I took to be the stage.
"Hello, my name is Jimmy Fallon and I'm here to audition for the role of Ben Wrightman. I'm great friends with Ms. Drew Barrymore so I believe that would really help the on-screen chemistry." I looked to the very left of the table to see Drew's smiling face.
That's when I saw her. A woman who looked to be relatively close to my age approached me with her outstretched. Her sun kissed hair flowed down to her shoulders and as her blue eyes met mine, my heart dropped. I couldn't focus. My mouth was dry and my head started spinning.
"Hi, Jimmy. I'm Nancy Juvonen, the producer for Fever Pitch. It's nice to meet you. I'm going to give Drew a little break from acting since it's oh, so draining..." She glanced back to Drew, teasingly. "So I'll be acting as Lindsey in this scene."
I could feel my heart beat in each of my finger tips and my ears burned. This is it, I'm having a stroke. I'm going to die right here at this angel's feet. I managed to break my prolonged gaze from her face long enough to shake her hand. My sweaty, clammy, man hands met her baby-soft, manicured hand. "I'm sorry, I was totally unaware I had an audition today so I left my three-piece suit at home. I shot Drew a nervous look. Nancy giggled and looked from my feet up to my sideways toupee-looking excuse for hair which I ran my fingers through. "I would've never guessed." She winked and cleared her throat, looking to the script. Thanks Cupid, my ass has an arrow so far up it right now I can't even focus. Don't botch this audition, Fallon. If you kill it, you'll get to see this girl everyday of filming. Focus.
Nancy started out and I kept solid, more than likely creepy eye contact with her sparkling, innocent eyes. "You're funny, Ben-"
"Fallo- Wrightman." Shit. Shit. Shit. "Wrightman. Sorry, can we start over? I've read this script like, twice." I bit my lip.
"Sure, we usually don't give second chances in Hollywood but since you're with Drew, I guess we can make an exception."
I took a deep breath and tuned out her radiating beauty.
"What do you call me to your friends?"
I took a step forward so that her feet were between mine and I pulled her face up to look at me. I could smell her fruity breath. I tucked a stray piece of golden hair behind her ear and held her face in my hands. If she couldn't hear my heart, a hearing aid would be a good investment for her. My knees felt shaky as she looked straight into my eyes. I glanced to my paper on the floor, remembering my line.
"I call you Lindsey, the vomit girl, the puker, Pukey."
I took a step back, against every will I had.
"Everyone says, 'You going out wit h Pukey tonight?' I'm like, 'Yeah, why?'"
"That's horrible." Her eyes locked with mine as she took another step back.
"Thank you, Mr. Fallon, it was great to meet you and I think you have a great shot at playing the lead role as Ben Wrightman. Congratulations. Keep a look out for our call. You do have a phone, right?"
"Yes, do you want my number?" I pulled my phone from my back pocket and started to enter my contacts. Drew cleared her throat.
"Oh, no. I've already got it." She waved a manila folder in the air. I could feel my face get red as I scratched the back of my head and bit my lip out of habit. "Oh, yeah, I knew that, Right. Okay, I'll look forward to your call."
Drew was practically dragging me through the door. My mouth just kept going and I couldn't seem to find my off switch. "Jimmy, calm yourself. You're fumbling your words. What's that about?" I looked down to Drew whose arm was interlocked with mine. We looked like a couple. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened in there. Her eyes... I couldn't NOT stare at them. I have the attention span of a Chihuahua."
"I know exactly what that was, Jim. Have you ever been weak in the knees?"
"Weak in the knees? What do you mean? Like, in love?"
"Yes, in love. That's what that was, Fallon. You were literally weak in the knees. When you two where embraced, you were about two inches shorter than normal, your knees were so flimsily bent."
"She's that much shorter than me? Never mind. Okay, Drew? You're insane. I'm not "in love", It's probably just a crush. I had one on you for the longest time."
"Jimmy... You never looked at me like that. Ever. The ball is in her court now since she has your number. You better hope you got the part."
A lump was stuck in my throat as we walked to our chauffer. My heart raced and my fists stayed clenched and sweaty. Either I was having a heart attack or Drew was right. Either way, fear rushed through my veins.
