1990- New York city.
I stared at the floor, my hands twisted in my lap as I sat in the waiting room, going over the lines in the script.
"No dammit. That's not the line." I watched as a older woman looked like to be the girls mother across the room from me, speak to her in harsh words.
I glanced away and breathed in my nose willing myself to be calm. Concentrate.
The door to the audition room for the movie," Consequences of love ." A middle age woman, with a cigarette in hand, and a clipboard,
"Number two-thirty three. Amber Lambert," She puffed smoke and I watched as the girl across of me, the one that I would go after pick her script up and walked nervously through the door, it slamming shut.
Grabbing the script, I ran my eyes over the lead part in the movie. Evelyn Rogers, wife of the famous singer, Kevin Rogers.
The moment Kevin Rogers enters the stage and see's Evelyn in the crowd, he instantly falls for her. She too. They foolishly get married, thinking that nothing would ruin it, but they were wrong. Throughout the marriage, Evelyn and Kevin go through so many events they don't know how much they can handle.
Love was a bunch of bullshit, I thought. How could you handle being with the same person for a eternity? I sure didn't want it.
Right when my father walked out when I was fifteen, nine years ago, I decided I called off all dreams and wishes for love.
Now after going to New York Film Academy, I'm now trying to find a part in a movie. My manager, Lisa, thought this movie was the one.
I heard a cry and a red, streak face Amber ran out and into her mothers arms, saying they didn't need her.
That just made me more nervous. I glanced over at the script and my heart leaped when the door opened again, calling out my number.
"Number two-thirty four. Storm Lycour."
I stood up, keeping my purse at my side, falling behind her, through a cloud of smoke.
My eyes squinted when we entered a much brighter room, and stood before a group of people, with suits on and clipboards, pens and papers in hand.
I cleared my throat and the woman with the smoke, gestured for me to the front of the room, on stage.
"Ms. Lycour? I'm Henry Stewart The director. So you can just go up on stage and start, and Mary, The producer will read off Kevin's lines, because apparently the lead actor said he had better things do to." His lips tightened when he mentioned the actor.
He was bald with a black turtleneck on and black pants, and a gold necklace around his neck.
I nodded and went up the steps, setting my purse to the side and rubbing my hands against the side of my black leather pants.
"Okay so act 1, scene five, when Evelyn tells Kevin she loves him, he asks her to marry him, but she tells him he needs to stop seeing his mistress, Carrie." Henry informed me and sat in his chair.
"Okay." I went into the middle of the stage and opened my mouth, looking at Mary, about to start my line, when the sound a door slamming open and shut.
I started to continue but was interrupted,
"Jesus Nick. You think you can be any louder. Now that you had the time to be here, go up there and play your part." Henry told this Nick.
I looked over where they were and almost stopped when the face that was on the front page's of magazines these days, was there, right in front of me.
