Chapter Three
2071 Words
Chapter Three
My heart is pounding in my chest. The taxi driver is ignoring me, lost in whatever terrible music he’s listening to. I turn back to watch my apartment become smaller and smaller. Has it really only been two weeks since Kathy made me the offer to come with her to Hollywood?
I had to quickly sell my car. Settled for much less than what it was actually worth which bummed me out. The cost of living in Hollywood is much higher than here, and I needed the cash, especially since I have been using my savings to laze around. I had to pay a fee to end my lease early. Lastly, I told everyone on Christmas that I was leaving.
It hadn’t gone as well as I would have liked it to. I understand it all seemed sudden. My family is worried I am making a rash decision and am having a lapse of lucid judgement. My words had failed me when I tried to explain to them that I need to get out of here and start somewhere new.
I sold everything I could and packed up my clothes. Before I know it, I’m riding toward the airport. Kathy has been there for a week already and tells me that her old agent, Jon, is waiting for my call.
That is something I haven’t told anyone else – the possibility of acting. I know that everyone will shoot it down and with good reason. I have spent a ridiculous amount of time Googling stuff about acting. The chances of anything coming of this are slim to none. My previous notion of landing a tampon commercial is dreaming too high. I will be lucky if I get an audition.
I told Kathy as much, but she brushed off my concerns. She is overly positive for someone who, from what I can gather, has gotten only tiny roles here and there in commercials and bad movies. But I don’t want to suddenly piss on her parade since we’re going to be roommates and she’ll be my only friend in an unfamiliar city.
By the time the taxi arrives at the airport, I have worked myself up in a frenzy. Part of me wants to stay in the taxi and turn back around, back to my apartment. Call the whole idea off. But I have nowhere to live here now. If I don’t head to Hollywood, I’ll just be homeless and jobless.
After spending what feels like an eternity getting through security and waiting for the plane, I finally locate my seat. I plop down into the window seat, hoping whoever sits next to me won’t feel like talking. I decide I’ll put on headphones and zone out with an inflight movie. I wish I brought something to read as well in case the movie options are horrible.
I press my head against the airplane window, which is cold to the touch. I am leaving, going to Hollywood and starting over. I shut my eyes and take in a deep breath. Will it be possible to move on from my past? To not wake up in the middle of the night and feel haunted by what had happened to Maggie?
All I can do is move forward and find out for myself.
>>
By the time I finally get to Hollywood, I’m feeling a strange mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. Every nerve in my body hums. I desperately want a shower. My face is glued to the window as we land. I am finally here.
Kathy is waiting for me by the baggage claim. She runs over to me, dressed as if she is going to a business meeting. Her hair is up in a bun, and she wears a dark brown pantsuit with a fabulous necklace. I feel frumpy in my sweatshirt and yoga pants. Everyone around me is dressed to the nines in clothes that I wish I owned. Investing in a new wardrobe is something I hadn’t considered. It is true. Somehow in all of my planning, the fact that I am moving to Hollywood, where the young and rich come to play, had fallen out of my head.
“Hey!” Kathy shouts. “How was the flight?”
“Long. The layover felt even longer. But I’m here now! I could totally use a shower.”
“Great. Let’s get your stuff, and you can finally see your new home!”
Before I know it, we have my luggage and are stepping outside. I am bowled over by how humid it is. Suddenly I realize that I am the only person wearing a sweatshirt in the entire baggage claim. Now I understand why. I yank it off, revealing a baggy T-shirt I had thrown on in the last second before leaving.
I get in Kathy’s car, and we zip out of the airport, heading toward her – no, our – new place.
“I have the apartment unpacked and set up but if you find you need anything we can just run out and buy it. I know you were bummed about selling your car, but feel free to use mine. I like to walk around Hollywood anyway, so you can use it unless I have an audition. You should call Jon tonight, too. He wants to get the ball rolling with you ASAP.” Her tone is clipped and sharp, as if she has a mental list in her mind a mile long.
I nod mutely, still on sensory overload as we pull off the highway and into Hollywood. I look outside my window at all the palm trees. Even more people. The sky is a bright blue, as if we are in a marble. The buildings are tall, gleaming in the sunlight. Everything I look at makes it clear I am a far cry from back home.
“It’s overwhelming when you first get here,” Kathy says, clearly making note of my expression. “But you’ll love it, truly.”
I tear my eyes away from someone playing their guitar on a street corner and look at her. “Thanks for... all of this.”
“Don’t mention it. It isn’t a problem. It works out for me too, since I needed a roommate.”
“Are you nervous about living here full time?”
Kathy shakes her head as we hit traffic. “Nah. I’ll never make it if I don’t make the full jump.”
“Does this old agent of yours...”
“Jon.”
“Right, Jon. Does he know I’ve never acted a day in my life?”
“He’s looking for new blood, Jenny. Someone with potential. That’s you. You just have to unlock it in yourself.”
I look back outside the window as we inch forward. Unlock it myself. I used to be able to do that. I used to be confident and look where it got me. No, I tell myself firmly, brushing thoughts of the past away. I am not going to fall down that hole. Not here.
>>
It feels like it takes ages to get to the apartment. The traffic is unreal. There is even traffic on the smaller roads. It isn’t until she makes a few more turns that the roads are clear of traffic and we are driving at a normal speed.
“Is it always like that?”
“The traffic?”
I nod. “Yeah, it’s pretty brutal.”
“Usually always bad, especially on weekdays. If you’re going anywhere, make sure you factor in the traffic and learn to be patient.”
I open my mouth to reply when we turn down another side street and pull into an apartment complex. It is a far cry from the luxurious high rise apartments that I saw back in the heart of the city. This apartment complex is four floors and looks as if the last time someone cleaned the roof was some time in the last century. One of the apartments on the bottom floor has a window that has been patched together with duct tape. The whole complex looks depressed, as if everyone who lives here has given up on their dreams.
“I know what it looks like.”
I glance at Kathy and realize I must look horrified. I quickly shake my head.
“No, no, it looks fine,” I lie. “Really.”
I can tell Kathy doesn’t believe me. The place looks like a dump. But I don’t want to complain about the place we both are living in. I don’t want to sound spoiled. So we get out of the car and grab my things. As we get closer to the complex, I can see that it looks even worse up close. The sidewalks are cracked and badly in need of some repairs. The paint on the doors is faded and chipped. It looks as if the entire complex let out one long sigh and then just gave up.
We tug my luggage up to the third floor. I am panting by the time we walk down the hallway. The staircase is rusted and creaks, which makes me paranoid enough to lean against the bannister as I wait for Kathy to unlock the front door. The last thing I need is to fall and break my neck. The apartment is facing the sad little parking lot and a taco shop across the street. No, it is not the height of glamor but at least tacos are close by.
Kathy gets the door open, and I yank my luggage in after her, closing the door with my foot. Then I look up to see where I am now living.
The living room is small and a little cramped but Kathy has clearly done her best to make it look “homey”. The floor is tile but she has tossed down a deep red area rug to try to soften the room. A TV is against the wall. The couch has some throw pillows on it. Pictures of flowers hang on the wall. I am happy they aren’t of her and her friends. I don’t want to feel the urge to try to tack up old photos of my past so I don’t look so pathetic.
Off to the left, I can see an even smaller dining area, with a table and two chairs. I can’t see the kitchen, but my guess is it will be incredibly small as well.
“It’s nice,” I lie and plaster a smile on my face. “Where is my room?”
“Just off by the kitchen. That’s one of the reasons I liked this floor plan so much. We each have our own space.”
I trail after her. As I figured, the kitchen can barely fit the two of us. There is a hallway in between the dining room and kitchen. The bathroom is there and next to the bathroom is my room.
I step inside. Any silly bummed out feelings I have been having over the fact I don’t have my own personal bathroom is wiped away by another concern.
“Wow,” I breathe. “It’s ... quaint.”
Microscopic is the actual word that jumped into my head but I brush it aside. My bed, which I have shipped ahead of time, takes up almost the entire room. It is a good thing I barely brought anything from my old apartment. It won’t fit. I open the closet and examine how little space I have there as well. My mood darkens. This place is a f*****g dollhouse. I should have asked for the master bedroom.
“I know it’s small. But for our budget, it’s the best we could get. And to be honest, it really isn’t that bad. Yeah, it’s a little out of the way and cramped, but we won’t really be here much. We’re going to be hitting the pavement and making our dreams come true!”
I bite my bottom lip, looking outside the window. I have a fantastic view of the parking lot and the taco shop. If I squint, I can see the high rises on the horizon. I could always stare at them and pretend that I was rich.
I know Kathy is waiting for me to tell her how I feel. But complaining about what she has managed to pull together, and even putting me in contact with her old agent on top of it, makes me feel like a b***h. She is right. Hollywood is expensive.
“It will take some getting used to. But you’re right! This is Hollywood! I hope we won’t be spending all day inside.”
Kathy smiles, looking relieved. She turns to go get the rest of the suitcases, and I find myself staring back out the window. The self-doubt I felt on the airplane is back in full force. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. At least now I have motivation not to lie around the apartment all day.
- Writer
