Be My Juliet [on hold]

Chapter 2: Caramel Confusions

"Penelope McIntire?" a man dressed in all black standing in a doorway calls.  I stand up silently and walk quickly to his side.  I pull out my headshots and resume, even though I had already given that in along with my contact information.  He leads me down a long bright hallway, not even looking back to make sure I was still behind him.  He makes a sharp right turn and stops in front of an immense black door.  I feel the butterflies in my stomach start to go crazy, so I stand there twirling my damp hair around my index finger.  The man obviously senses my nerves, so he looks at me for a split second and mumbles, "You'll do fine."

"Thanks." I reply inaudibly as I try to listen to the other side of the door.  After what seems like hours, but in reality is probably only a few minutes, the door opens from the inside and the man goes in before me.  I gulp down a breathe of precious oxygen and plaster the best smile I can manage onto my face. 

As soon as I walk in, I see Mr. Lewis, the director from New York, sitting on one of the four chairs.  His face lights up, exclaiming to the others "This is the one I told you about!" 

Along with Mr. Lewis, with his dark grey hair and icy blue eyes, there is a woman who looks to be about thirty with curly red hair and light green eyes.  There is another woman with long black hair and dark brown eyes, staring at me like I've already done something wrong.  Sitting next to her is a man with buzz cut, dark skin and thick-rimmed glasses holding a clipboard.  He looks up for a split second, and says.  "Penelope McIntire?"

"Yes, that's me."  I smile back.

"Can you say that to the camera please?"  I suddenly notice the big black camera in the back of the room.  How did I not see that before?  I repeat my name, followed by turning left and right as the man directed me.  "Have you been enjoying England?  Mr. Lewis tells us you're from America."

"Yes, I am Mister..."

"Johnson." He finishes for me.

"Mr. Johnson.  It is really lovely here."

"When did you arrive?"

"Just a few days ago, but I've already fallen in love with London." I chirp.

"Very good.  So, have you read over the script?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright, whenever you're ready."  Mr. Johnson says as he shoos the man that brought me here out of the room.  On his way out, he hands me a script, and after I thank him, I start reading the first line.

"What's here?  A cup, closed in my true love's hand?  Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end..." Shit.  I lost my place.  I hear one of the women sigh, and frantically try to find the correct line.  I look up, trying to read the faces of my evaluators.  Immediately I see Mr. Lewis, who is giving me a look of huge disappointment.  I feel tears well in my eyes; the last thing I want is to make Mr. Lewis look bad in front of his colleagues.  The only reason I even got this audition is because of him, and here I am fucking it up.

"Oh, churl..." someone murmurs.

"Oh, churl!  Drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after?  I will kiss thy lips; haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to make die with a restorative."  I pause, feeling two wet tears trail down my face.  "Thy lips are warm."

"Lead, boy: which way?"  Mr. Johnson replies dryly. 

"Yea, noise?  Then I'll be brief.  O happy dagger!  This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die."  I look up again, only to be greeted with looks of animosity by each of the four people in the room.  They must think I wasted their time.  Shit.  Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.  I just messed up.  Why did I have to cry?  There goes that part.