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(Dedicated to CRIS7IANORONALDO for being an amazing online friend and fellow football fangirl!)

Guy Brighton's office was a huge mess.

His large glass tabletop was filled with papers, weights, three different cell phones, a telephone, a notebook, a copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude, some envelopes, along with some pens and pencils, all of the colour blue.

Behind them all sat the man himself, a stark contrast to his messy table, immaculately dressed and with a smile on his face. He ushered me in.

"Welcome, welcome to my messy abode, Liz. Have a seat."

I sat down. "Good morning, Guy."

"A very good morning. Okay, let's get down to business, shall we?"

I liked how professional he was. "Sure."

"Okay, so as you know, your character is a rape survivor who later becomes an activist. It's not based on a true story, so it'll be even harder to pull off. You must be very delicate with your role, but at the same time, you shouldn't be too cautionary. That'll ruin the natural flow of your acting. Get it?"

I nodded my head.

"Great. So, we'll begin with some screen tests for you. We'll dress you up as our character and you'll have to showcase some emotions in front of the camera, and that'll be enough for today. I've already contacted the other actors who'll play the other important characters, but there are still some roles left to be filled, so we'll have to hold some auditions for them. But you don't need to worry about that."

The screen tests went by smoothly. I did as best as I could, and Guy seemed more than satisfied. Then again, this was just the screen test. The real deal was where my skills would truly be tested.

**********
I took a flight back to my hometown two days later.

And as soon as I reached my house, Paris flew out of the doorway, a frantic look in her eyes.

"Liz! Oh thank god you're here!"

I was alarmed. "What happened?"

"Oh Liz, I feel like crying and hitting myself for being so dense and blind and judgemental! Tyler, he...he..."

My heartbeat accelerated. What had happened to Ty?

"What? What's wrong? Paris, what's wrong with Tyler? Tell me!"

She shook her head. "No, no, nothing's wrong with him. Everything's wrong with us."

"What do you mean?"

"That other actress he was spotted with that night appeared on a talk show today. I was watching it. The interviewer asked if there was something going on between her and Tyler. She rubbished it all. She said he had simply helped her in her drunken state and taken her back to her hotel. Nothing else. It's not like she even knew of the falling out between you and Tyler. I could see she was being genuine, she meant it."

I narrowed my eyes. "And what about her chauffeur? Couldn't he have driven her back?"

"She didn't have one. Even more than her acting, she's known for driving her own car, at all times. She never leaves her car in anybody else's care. That night, she got really drunk when she wasn't supposed to, and Tyler offered to drive for her, but she refused to let him touch her car. So he had no other choice but to drop her off in his own car. A few cameras caught them fighting over her car as well, but they never released those photos, being the gossip tabloids they are."