A Room With A View

Chapter Twenty-Two - Madeline

September 17th, Sunday

Madeline slipped breathlessly past Phineas and squeezed through the service entrance door. She rushed toward the elevator and jammed her thumb into the button. She kept listening for the sound of footsteps, but none came. Phineas must have been too deep in thought to notice her.

Madeline breathed a sigh of relief as the elevator doors opened. She was due for another rent conversation, but she wasn't ready to face it. At least not for another few minutes. An email notification had pinged on her phone, but she hadn't had enough data left to check it at the restaurant. The restaurant didn't have wifi, as it was hoping to promote a sense of focus on the parties at hand, rather than the phones in their hands. So Madeline had rushed home the moment her lunch shift had ended.

"Please, please, please, please," she whispered under her breath.

The elevator was agonizingly slow. Madeline watched as the floors ticked by one after the other. There was a slight pause at each level, as if the elevator was going to open its doors to collect passengers, before moving snail-like back up the tower. Madeline tapped her foot, watching the little blue bubble of the elevator work its way up the building on the touch screen's display. Four...five...six. Madeline burst through the doors before they were fully open and rushed to her apartment, fumbling with her keys.

Her hand shook as she twisted the key in the lock and stepped through into her apartment. She threw her bag to the ground and pulled her phone from her pocket, not bothering to take off her jacket.

Madeline launched her email app. The wheel spun on her phone, taunting her. It stopped, and Madeline held her breath. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. The email was from the casting director for Underlings, the new play transfering to Broadway the following January. The subject line simply said "Underlings".

Madeline's thumb hovered over the unread email. If it was good news, wouldn't the casting director have written something positive in the subject line? Something like, "Congratulations!", or "You've Been Cast As Character X!" A casting announcement with just the name of the play in the subject seemed rather ominous.

Madeline chewed her bottom lip, too nervous to open the message. She sighed, irritated with herself, and threw her phone onto the couch. She shrugged out of her jacket and hung it up on the knob just beside her front door. She crossed over to her coffee table and stopped. Her phone was glaring at her from the couch cushions like a vengeful beast. Madeline turned away from it, rubbed her shoulder, stared at the wall, and turned back. Within two seconds she had leapt the corner of her coffee table and was sitting on the couch, phone in her lap.

Madeline swiped her thumb across the black screen. "Okay," she breathed, "don't be stupid."

The light on her phone seemed too bright for negative news. Madeline dimmed it, and relaunched her email app. Ripping off the bandaid, Madeline tapped on "Underlings".

Dear Madeline, it read, We would like to thank you for taking the time to audition for the role of Vanessa. We have chosen to go in a different direction for Vanessa—

Madeline stopped reading. She knew it. She hadn't felt that she'd convincingly played the "manipulative and enigmatic lover" in her audition. "Manipulative" just wasn't something Madeline could be. Although Colin would say otherwise. He had always complained about how Madeline had been able to wheedle herself out of punishment. She used to cry and tell him that it wasn't her fault for being the beloved baby girl, that was just how things had worked out. Of course, she was never going to admit to Colin that she had been practicing her crying-on-demand since she was seven. Perhaps she had Colin to thank for goading her into an acting career.