Historias de Blacksucces

The first time Theodora McLaughlin met Owen Cooper, the room smelled like cheap coffee and nervous dreams. It was an audition building in Los Angeles-one of those bland studio offices where hundreds of teenagers lined up with printed headshots and forced smiles. Theodora sat curled up in a chair in the waiting room, knees tucked to her chest, headphones covering her ears. Her dark sweater sleeves swallowed her hands while a tiny spiral notebook rested on her knee. She wasn't studying lines. She was drawing. Strange little sketches filled the page: crooked houses, eyes watching from windows, birds with too many wings. People had always called her weird. She didn't mind. Across the room, a boy laughed. Not a fake laugh-the real kind. Theodora looked up. A tall boy with messy brown hair leaned against the wall talking to another kid about a movie. He moved his hands when he talked, animated and bright, like the world naturally revolved around him. Theodora watched quietly. She liked watching people. The boy noticed. Their eyes met for half a second. He smiled. Not the polite Hollywood smile actors practiced in mirrors. A real one. Theodora quickly looked back down at her notebook. Weird girl, she thought. Across the room, the boy nudged his friend. "That girl's drawing monsters." "Dude, don't stare," his friend whispered. "I'm not staring." He was. Minutes later, a casting assistant stepped into the hallway. "Theodora McLaughlin?" She stood. "Theodora?" The boy spoke suddenly. She turned. "Your drawings are cool," he said. Theodora blinked. Most people didn't notice things like that. "Thanks." He stuck his hand out. "Owen." Theodora hesitated, then shook his hand. His grip was warm. "Theodora." A casting assistant called again from the door. "McLaughlin!" Theodora walked toward the audition room. Just before disappearing inside, she glanced back. Owen Cooper was still watching her.