Life is an odd thing. One day your sitting in a dark basement watching an inspirational movie, stuffing popcorn in your face, and trying not to cry. The next day your screaming and jumping up and down in excitement. And if you're a stickler on dates, it was actually six days later. The reason for the happy screaming? The headline of the neighborhood newsletter said, "ROMANTIC MOVIE FILMING IN NEARBY ASHLIN". Under that it stated that extras are wanted. I could be an extra! For the next half hour I practice my acting in a mirror, googled the main cast, and squealed every thirty seconds.
I might talk about my dreams as a movie star all the time, but honestly I never thought I'd get a chance. It was just fuel for my imagination. But I might actually appear in a movie! It may be low-budget, but it's a movie nonetheless! It possible that I could get discovered and one day find my name next to--- I don't know--- Jennifer Lawrence---on a movie poster! I wanted that extra role like nothing else before.
After my freak out session calmed down a bit, I came to the very reasonable realization that I suck at acting. There are only twenty spots available! I needed training.
I remembered that there was a small acting academy downtown. It was run by the husband of the school's drama teacher. The drama club was practically forced to sign up if I remember correctly. No. I'm quite sure. Amanda Sriesberg practically forced me to buy a candy bar to raise money for the classes. She used to be a shy kid. Now she stars in the lead role of the play every year. And I was to chicken to even sign up for the club in the first place. Now I'm regretting it quite a lot.
I sit down in front of Mom's pc and google the acting academy. It conveniently popped up with no way of contact listed and the absence of a website. Drat. Now I have to actually go there. I look outside. The nasty rainstorm of the past week has lessened up a little, but there still was some drizzle. Oh well. I had a role to win.
I pulled on my jacket and checked the pockets for cash. I don't believe in wallets. Now I know I should. I only have ten dollars. I proceed to search my room, too. Altogether I find $35.71. I hope it's enough. I exit through the garage and ride my bike downtown. It's only about a five minute bike ride.
The academy is located in one of the century old store fronts of downtown. By the way, if you think I'm saying downtown like Chicago's downtown, that's the farthest thing from the truth. Downtown is thirty stores on Main Street. The thirty stores are the only businesses in town. My personal favorite is the old one screen cinema. Obviously.
I lock up my bike and enter through the front door. The place smells a lot like lavender and citrus and I'm immediately relaxed.
"Can I help you," asked the woman behind the counter. She was pretty. She had dark brown hair pulled up in a tight bun and stylish glasses that really complimented her heart-shaped face. It'd be a lie if I said I wasn't self-conscience for a second.
"Uh. Yeah. I'd like to sign up for, uh, the," my vision trailed off to the class next door as I stuttered. "beginner's class." I cleared my throat ,as if I would blame my lack of social skills on my loss of voice. Brilliant.
"We do have classes for beginners on Tuesdays and Thursdays. There's only four lessons left, so you'll be a bit late to the game. I can discount those classes though and they'd only cost thirty dollars. Are you okay with that," she asked while looking at a very detailed schedule book.
"That's fine," I hear myself say as I focus on the class viewable through a glass window. I can see the happiness and excitement in the faces and actions of the students even though I can't hear them.
"That's the advanced class," says the woman, following my gaze. "You can go observe them if you want. They're just going over a script."
I pull my line of sight away. I just came to sign up. That's all. I came to do just one thing.
"That's okay," I say. I pull out my wad of bills and pay for my classes.
"See you Tuesday," says the woman. "My name is Elizabeth if you need any more help."
"T-thanks," I stutter as I fumble with my change. Then I exit as quickly as possible to spare myself from any more embarrassment. Geez I'm awkward.
YOU ARE READING
The Mave Movie
Teen FictionMave Morgans is a teenage movie fanatic with dreams to become a movie star. But she knows dreams may never come true, especially after her father died when she was ten. Five years later she's still dealing with loss as it tore apart her family, but...
