Wearing Her Shoes

Oops!

Sara's POV

My sweaty palms were shaking uncontrollably when a tall, lanky figure approached me and said, "C'mon Samantha, you've reviewed the script like a hundred times now! It's not like it's your first time in front of the camera!"

"I'm sorry, just give me five more minutes and I'll be ready," I stalled.

"Okay, but after five minutes, we have to start!" he said and stomped away.

I picked up the script that fell several times since I started practicing. Firmly gripping the papers that will determine my fate for the next couple of hours, I tried to avoid slipping them again. I started reading the lines carefully, then shut my eyes and recited a couple of sentences. A soft knock interrupted me. "Come in," I said.

"How's it going?" Jamal asked stepping into the room.

"Really bad!" I answered, "I forgot all my lines! I'm so scarred! Can't we postpone this?!"

"No, I know you can do it. We've practiced enough, and you did well. Just imagine as if we're at home practicing. Forget all those cameras and focus, and you'll be fine," he replied.

 "But, I'm freaking out! I can't do this!" I complained.

"Samantha, you'll do fine," he said firmly, "because if you don't, you won't like what's gonna happen."

            I froze. What does he mean? Is he threatening me?! I stood with a plain expression until he broke the silence and said, "What are you waiting for? C'mon we have to start filming!" He walked out the room and I followed him silently with the same appalled expression. I shook my head breaking the spell his words cast on me. No, I'm not going to let his weird mood get to me. I'm going to do fine. I'll be fine. Breathe, inhale, exhale, great! I'm so ready for this!

            As we approached the filming site, my legs grew weak. I fought against them by distracting my mind with the filming site's many huge machines. Apparently, I was able to recognize some of them as cameras, while the rest remained a mystery. Next, the room caught my attention. It was large, crowded, and dark for this time of the day. My attention was then directed to where the cameras stared, a dark blue background that was expertly painted to look like as though it’s a gloomy mysterious place. I recognized it from the script. It was an imaginary place in the main character's dreams.      

"Good morning, Ms. Williams," a young girl approached me.

"Good morning," I smiled recognizing her as Nandi, a young actress who was destined to see my huge failure in acting.

"Are you feeling better today, Ms. Williams?" she asked.

"Yeah, great actually. Spare yourself the bother and just call me Sam," I offered.

"Me?!" she asked, "I thought you hated a child like me calling you with your name."

"I said that?!" Oops!

"Yeah," she answered.

"Well, you can say I'm in a good mood today," I replied.

"Then, I don't think we'll have to repeat a lot today," she said.

 "Hopefully," I prayed.

            "Sam! Nandi! Let's get going! We're already late!" Mr. Isref, the director, screamed. We hurried towards him, threw a quick good morning, and took our places. "Are you ready?" he asked not actually taking our opinion in consideration. We nodded, and he yelled, "Three, two, one, action!"