Not Like The Movies

Chapter Three

"Hello," Mr. Yellz said, "we've been expecting you."

"Hah - huh - hi," I stuttered, looking at the floor. They had a nice Indian carpet. It looked a lot like the one I saw at Miley's house (she's my friend from kindergarten and had an Indian fiancé).

Let's just say, carpets have never seemed so interesting before. I forced myself to look up and see who else was in the room.

Kate Faucé , co-director (a stern middle-aged blonde), Lily Moringue the casting director (a brunette with a friendly smile), Maxwell Yellz, Mr. Yellz's son and co-producer (who honestly couldn't be more than a few years my senior), Mr. Yellz himself, and a few other people .

I noticed that Mr. Yellz had been speaking, and was now looking at me expectantly, as if waiting for an answer.

"Oh....could you repeat that, please?" I swear I was going to die right then and there.

"Can you please read through pages 51 - 53, please?" stated a bored and tired-looking Lily Moringue.

"Yes! Of - of course." I opened the script they had given me in advance and began flipping to page 51. But, the universe hates me.

All at once, the neatly paper-clipped sheets somehow came apart and fluttered under the table.

"Sorry," I mutter, turning bright red. This was not supposed to happen. I bent down under the table to retrieve the script. Evidently, Kate had never been the biggest fan of me. My disorganized actions earned a loud sigh from her.

By now, I was on the verge of tears, certain I had failed the audition already.

At last, having gathered all the papers, I was ready to begin.

Maxwell yawned loudly. I think Mr.Yellz was, so far, the only one who hadn't made me feel like crap. But then again, he was doing Ginger a favor by letting me audition, so. . .

"No, George!" I began, "I won't let you do this!"

I'd practiced this line a million times. I had made myself cry before.

My eyes were dry.

Think of a time you felt desperate! I tried to tell my brain, which, for some reason, decided that it could not think or process anything at the moment. Stupid, good-for-nothing brain!

"I have to do this, Layla!" Maxwell shouted, reading the part of George.

"No. Don't!" I cried out desperately."Please, no! If you won't do it for me, do it for my sister! You love Skye, so if you execute this - this treachery - she will be ruined as well!" I was sobbing by now with the emotion of this scene. I gave myself a mental pat on the back.

"No! You and your sister, Skye, are evidently one of a kind! Both traitors to your honorable family! I am doing the right thing for you!"

"Please! This isn't right!"I said with absolute conviction. I drew in a breath and quavered desperately,"Think of the time. . ."

"Of what?!" George's character was obviously frustrated.

"Of the time you loved me." I whispered.

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AN: Heyyyyy! So, how do you think that went? Do you think Mr. Yellz & his crew were impressed? Tell us in the comments (if there are any)! Honestly, I'm really thankful to the few readers that have decided to read this book all the way here. Do you know how much that means to us? A LOT. Just, THANK YOU.
Byyyyyeeee!!
PinkDoggie