Part 3 (1/2)

”Absolutely,” I said. ”Thank you so much.”

I hung up the phone and stared at the wall blankly. I could hardly believe that only a few hours ago I was cursing Grayson and my mother and feeling so frustrated with everything. Within the s.p.a.ce of an afternoon I had found out about a possible sponsor to the theater, the trip to Vegas, and now this.

I walked slowly back to the living room and watched my friends for a moment. Jen was sitting close to Matt, holding his hand while they excitedly talked about the trip. Ginny was bouncing Danny on her lap while Josh sat at her feet. They all looked happy, excited.

I've been jealous, I realized suddenly. I never would have thought it of myself. I loved my friends more than anything else in the world. I wanted their happiness as much as my own. But deep down inside I'd been jealous that they were settled, that they were successful, that they knew what they wanted and were on their way to getting it.

Now, for the first time, I realized I just might be, too.

Chapter Five.

*Do you feel nervous when conversing with the opposite s.e.x? It's a very normal response for many young ladies, and nothing to worry about. If you take the process of finding a mate seriously, then it's natural you'd have some nerves when you meet the potential Mr. Right. Instead of dwelling on this, do your best to act confident. There are few things more appealing to a man than a woman who is sure of herself.'-The Single Girl's Guide to Finding True Love I felt a healthy dose of fear as the callback approached. I tried to tell myself that it was pointless to get worked up about it. Whatever happened would happen and the best thing I could do to help myself was stay loose and try not to feel anxious. Stress would only make my performance worse so it was essential I stay calm.

I told myself that, but it was really hard to actually do.

”This could be it,” I told Jen the night before the callback. She had been running lines with me for the past two hours and I now felt that I was as ready as I was going to get. ”I mean, this could be my big break.”

”You can't think about it that way,” Jen told me firmly. ”Seriously, Ann. If you let yourself even think about *big breaks' and all of that, you're going to freak out. Just treat it like any other audition. I mean, how many of these have you done?”

”Dozens,” I told her, thinking back to all the seemingly endless (and mostly fruitless) auditions I had been on since I first picked up the acting bug in high school.

”You have to convince yourself it's just like all the rest,” she told me. ”You're prepared, you know your stuff. If you can go in there with a confident att.i.tude and just relax, I think you'll do really, really well.”

She was right. She usually was. But it was much harder to actually act on.

I pulled up in front of a small theater on the outskirts of the city. I had seen a few live bands here over the years, and somehow I felt comforted by the familiar setting.

This is your turf, I reminded myself. You've been working in this city for years now. There's nothing to worry about.

I entered the building, trying to tamp down the nerves. A sign in the lobby directed me through to the stage area. I could make out a clump of people down by the stage and I headed in their direction.

A skinny man met me in the aisle. I recognized him as Jackson Coles, the man I had read for in my initial audition. He looked busy and impatient and I was very relieved that I was early. ”Name?” he asked briskly.

”Annie Duncan,” I said, burying my hands in my pockets to stop them from shaking.

”Good. You'll go in the first group here.” He gestured behind him to the small group of people waiting by the stage. ”We're just waiting for one more.”

The man handed me a stack of stapled papers before turning away to talk quietly with the woman sitting next to him.

Well, at least they're welcoming, I thought to myself sarcastically. I took the papers and headed toward my group.

”Hi,” said a girl who looked to be a few years younger than me. She was gorgeous, totally perfect. She had porcelain white skin and long, silky blond hair. I felt intimated by her immediately, though she was smiling kindly at me.

”Are you as nervous as me?” she asked.

I smiled back. ”Yeah, pretty nervous.”

”This is my first audition,” she continued, leaning toward me conspiratorially. Great. She had managed to pull a major callback on her first try. Brat.

”Do you think he'll be here?” she asked.

”Who?”

”Jenner Collins!” she replied, looking surprised that I hadn't known immediately. ”I mean, it is his show, you know? I heard a rumor he plans to actually direct the show. Don't you think he would want to be involved in the casting?”

”I bet he's pretty busy,” I said, shrugging. I didn't need to be worrying about Collins in addition to all the nerves I was already battling.

”Oh, wouldn't you just die if he was here?” the girl continued, closing her eyes while a dreamy smile lit up her face. I rolled my eyes. ”He's just so gorgeous and successful. I would love to meet him.”

I found myself feeling a little better as Jackson called for us to head to the stage. I may not be as heartbreakingly beautiful, or as young, or as lucky, as the blond girl-but at least I had a bit better sense than to get all star-struck like that.

”Okay, listen up,” Jackson called out. ”We're going to start with some cold readings. We'd like everyone to stand out to the side until we call your name. We might have you read in some odd pairings and we might want to see you in different roles than you prepared for. We ask you please to just go for it and do your best. We're looking to see how flexible you can be, how quick you are on your toes. We'll be asking for some more in-depth character readings a little later.”

I was relieved not to be one of the first ones called. The lights on the stage were very bright and the theater seemed to stretch out endlessly behind the seats where Jackson and his partner had set up. I was feeling those nerves return and I was grateful for the moment's reprieve to gather my thoughts-and check out the compet.i.tion a little, of course.

The first three actors they called forward were clearly good. The two men carried themselves with that confident air that only comes with true comfortableness. The girl that had read first seemed thrown by the activity. She had been asked to read for an older woman, though she appeared to be no more than twenty-five. I suspected that she had studied her lines ad nauseam last night and she didn't seem to be adapting well to having to read something unfamiliar.

When it was my turn, I was asked to read one of the male parts. Determined not to let it throw me, I made sure to read clearly and loudly. At one point during the reading, I thought I saw another figure join the two in the back, but I was concentrating so much on the unfamiliar lines that I didn't let it phase me.

The readings went on like that for some time. I was asked to read several more times and I soon noticed that I had read with every combination of males on the stage. In fact, it started to feel like I was being called forward more often than any of the other girls. I wondered if that was a good sign.

”Okay, thank you!” Jackson called out finally. ”That gave us a chance to see you all paired up together. Now we want to see you do a bit of improv.”

Yes, I thought to myself. I loved improv. And I was pretty darn good at it, if I do say so myself. There was a group of people that I knew from college who would occasionally hang out at a local comedy club on open mic nights to do improv sets-kind of like karaoke for actors. I enjoyed meeting up with them and having a go at it. Something about the way you had to just jump in-there was no room for anything cerebral, no room for any self doubt. You either did it, or you didn't. It was a very freeing feeling.

Jackson directed us all to sit in the front row while he called groups up one at a time to partic.i.p.ate. I was a little b.u.mmed when I wasn't called first. That's when it hit me-I was barely nervous anymore! I had, once again, lost myself in the act of performing. It was a good feeling. It made me think that maybe I belonged here.

”I can't believe he's here!” the blond girl whispered to me as the first group took the stage. ”I mean, I knew he might show up, but to actually see him back there, not even fifteen feet away!”

”What are you talking about?” I whispered back, wis.h.i.+ng she would shut up so I could concentrate on the scene on stage.

”Jenner Collins!” the blond girl hissed quietly in my ear. ”He walked in while we were reading. Did you see him?”

I had actually forgotten all about Jenner Collins. He must have been the figure that I thought I saw enter during my reading. I was determined not to think about it at all.

”I'd rather focus on the exercise,” I told her, my voice flat. I hoped that she would take the hint that I wasn't in the mood to talk to her about this.

Unfortunately, she didn't. For the entire first exercise she kept up a running commentary about how much she loved Collins, what a great actor he was, how inspiring it was to be in the same room with him, let alone perform for him.

Her constant gus.h.i.+ng did nothing to change my frame of mind. In fact, it made me feel so irritated that I was soon projecting that on Jenner himself. Who the h.e.l.l did he think he was anyhow? Some useless Hollywood pretty boy. Whatever. Why would I let myself get worked up over him?

Looking back on it, I should probably thank blond girl for annoying me so much. When they finally called my name to partic.i.p.ate in an exercise, I was feeling completely confident-c.o.c.ky almost-and not at all star struck.

There were a few who couldn't say the same. The same younger woman I had noticed in the first reading was placed in my group. Throughout the exercise she kept looking nervously out into the audience. She missed a few opportunities to add an obvious line. Oh well, I thought to myself. Her problem. If she wanted to be all star struck by Collins, she could go right ahead. I had more important things to do.