Talk Of The Town ✔️

7

The heat protectant spray created a mist around her head. Anya coughed despite concealing her face with both hands. Then, the stylist pulled her hair to bring her head upward.

"Ouch," she let out.

"Sorry," she muttered, shrugging as if it's nothing.

Clenching her jaw, Anya grabbed the script again, mumbling, "Red or pink?"

Then came Sean's line.

"What about yellow, shining like the sun even on a gloomy day."

Anya smiled while saying, "All eyes on me as I escaped misery or chased ecstasy."

It appeared Sophie found a way to bring this impromptu line into the script.

Anya bit her inner cheeks. The stylist used a tooth comb, digging into her skull to distribute the spray. She exhaled through her mouth, scowling at her in the mirror with fluorescent lightbulbs lining the edges.

This woman either has a mysterious beef with her or has woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Wrapping a large portion of her hair around the curling iron, she chewed her gum, raising her eyebrow at Anya.

"What"

"Can you be a little gentler next time?"

"Sorry"

"So, you've said."

Anya is lucky that the cosmetic artist wasn't as dodgy as this stylist, or she might have torn off her skin. Knocking at the door, Sophie entered.

"Hey, are you almost done?"

"Yeah," the stylist answered.

"Have you memorised the lines, Anya?"

"Of course," she replied, admiring Sophie's burnt orange tunic.

"You'll be fine. It's just a forty-second ad."

When Anya walked onto the set, adjusting the round earring that wouldn't stick in its place, her lips parted. The blinding lights put the stage set into the spotlight. It is happening for real.

Somebody should pinch her.

On the warehouse's west side, they have constructed a replica of a Bella Strides boutique. Seven white wooden shelves set against a white wall consisted of numerous shoes ranging from heels to classy boots. They have also included small pumpkins and autumnal faux plants to match the season.

Sean stood still as a woman styled his textured spikes. He almost looked like a chemistry teacher in his pale blue button-down shirt and navy trousers. Anya smiled back at him.

The director clapped his hands to get everyone off the stage and summoned the 'actors.'

Taking a deep breath, Anya stepped into the spotlight. Her heart thundered as those lights flashed on her face. All of a sudden, she is insecure about her acne, hair follicles, and blackheads.

It's okay, Anya.

Deep breathe. Editing will do its magic.

"Okay, you two enter the shop from the left. Anya, you stop on your mark. Say your first line, red or pink, and make it sound like a question. You look at Sean, not the camera or anything else. Sean, you say your first line and that's the first shot. Get it. Easy-peasy."

Anya stood outside the stage on the left beside Sean, waiting for the director's order.

"What if I trip? I'm scared," she mumbled.