4
My Fair Lady
“I need those orders shipped now!” I hear yelling when I walk through the back doors of the stage. Everyone is rushing around, half naked actresses trying to get fitted, makeup artists and hairstylist’s experimenting on anyone they can get their product-covered hands on, the producer and director silently arguing in the corner, choreographers practicing, stagehands doing whatever it is that stagehands do, and then there is Carli. She is the manager of the whole production and just happens to be the one yelling at everyone at the moment. “Ah, Ava!” Her bright blue eyes sparkle when she sees me and her chestnut hair bounces as she rushes my way. Carli has always liked me, and I am very grateful. I would hate to be on her bad side.
“Good morning.” I sigh shrugging my bag off my shoulder and onto a nearby table. Her model-like body stretches over me as she wraps her arms around my torso.
“I’m so glad you have, uh, arrived!” Her English is fair but she still struggles. “There is much to do. How long are you staying?”
“My train leaves at 4 today.”
“Ah, that’s right. It is Friday, almost the weekend.” She turns her focus away from me for a split second to look at the frantic bodies behind her before yelling, “You hear that everyone? It is almost the weekend! And you can bet all of you will be working!” I hear groans from almost every mouth in the room. “I don’t want to her your, uh, groans?” She looks back to me to make sure she is saying the right word. I nod and she continues, “We only have four more months! That is only sixteen weeks and three days until opening night people!”
“Jesuis entouré de gensparesseux.” She whispers into my ear and I laugh. Meaning, “I am surrounded by lazy people.”
…
My day drags on with answering to everyone and directing everyone else. I help out with makeup and hair, testing some makeup ideas on models and having some hair ideas tested on me. I help pick out some lovely patterns for costume design but skip choreography, not being prepared to help lead the dancers.
When I am finally able to leave, the cool Parisian rain dances down landing anywhere it can. I walk the streets before catching a taxi to the train station.
…
“Pardon me.” I almost whisper slipping past the crowding strangers on the train finding my way to the back. But before I could commit to a spot and sit down I turned to hear an elder women yelling at one of the train attendant’s. She, clearly only fluent in French and is getting frustrated with the poor young boy.
“Mam I am sorry I don’t understand what you are saying.” Worry is stretched on his face.
YOU ARE READING
Senseless | H.S
Novela Juvenil“I thought you were blind.” “I am.” He chuckles flipping another page in his unknown book. “Then how are you reading a book?” “I’m not.” He smiles looking up in my exact direction. “Forgive me Sir, I just don’t understand-” “I carry this book around...
