Call back
1068 Words
*Nina*
I’m jolted awake from a dead sleep by the shrill ringing of my phone. Tumbling off the couch in a daze, I scramble to find it. Luckily, it’s resting on the nearby table, and I grab it just in time. It’s my agent, Leslie. With reluctance, I answer. “Hello?”
“Are you still sleeping?” Her voice, bright and demanding, crackles through the line… one of those tones that instantly makes you feel like you’ve failed at life.
“What time is it?” I mumble, squinting against the harsh light flooding the room. The phone feels painfully loud in my ear, and my stomach is twisting in ways I didn’t think were possible.
I can hear her impatience mixed with excitement. “It’s ten AM. You better start doing whatever acting stuff you need to do because you only have two hours.”
“Until what?” Panic rises in my chest. My mouth tastes like a mix of bile and something indescribably foul, and I’m pretty sure I have no meetings scheduled for today.
“Until you read with Elijah Grant,” she says, her voice brimming with pride.
No, I must have heard her wrong. I can’t be processing this right; I’m still half-drunk and likely hallucinating. “Uhm, what?”
“Uh-huh! I did it… you got a callback… for today.” There’s no mistaking the pride in her voice now.
“No, no, I can’t…” I mumble desperately. “The callback can’t be today. I’ve been throwing up all night. I feel like crap, and I probably look even worse.”
She laughs, but it’s a nervous sound. “Ha ha… that’s hilarious. Now stop screwing around and get focused, because today is the most important day of your life.”
Shit! s**t! s**t! How am I going to get through this?
*Elijah*
I step out of the shower, only to find my assistant Finn standing there, towel in hand. I can’t quite get used to this… having someone around is nice, but the way he does everything for me sometimes creeps me out a bit.
He hands me the towel, and thank God he doesn’t try to dry me off like I’m a kid. “So, the good news is… Bianca’s hotel is just over a mile from where we’re staying, so we probably won’t run into her by accident.”
“And what’s the real news?” I ask, wrapping the towel around my waist, instinctively sensing that there’s more to this.
“The real news is… her table is next to yours at the opening dinner. She’s replacing Jessica Alba on the panel you’re doing on the second day, and her film premieres two hours before yours.” He says it all with a hint of apprehension.
I shake my head. “Damn… it’s gonna be Ragnarok.”
“I can work on changing the seating arrangement… you could back out of the panel…” he offers desperately.
“Go full narcissist just because I’m uncomfortable?” I shake my head as I pull on my boxers. “No, no… people will see right through that. I need to figure out a way to deal with this. Let me know if anything changes.”
He nods and leaves me to get dressed. Great, I have to face my ex again. I’m a big boy; I can handle this. I have to. Maybe I should consult my in-house therapist.
30 minutes later.
“I want you to consider something… can you be open to the possibility that the tension you’re feeling right now isn’t about Bianca or Venice? Or what might or might not happen there?” The sexy blonde asks me.
She watches me from her office chair while I sit on the couch that Silas had me set up for our sessions. It’s meant to be a space where I can unwind whenever I need to.
“What else would it be about?” I play along, as I always do.
“It would be about…” She takes off her glasses, placing them on the table, and stands up, walking toward me as she unbuttons her jacket. “What happens right here.” She pulls the curtains closed. “Between us… and what we both know has to happen next.”
Kneeling down, she lifts one of my legs, leaning in to slide up my T-shirt as she kisses her way up my stomach. I give in, as I always do, following the instructions I’ve been given… relieving my stress in what’s supposed to be a healthy way. But why doesn’t it feel healthy at all? It feels… dirty.
Lunchtime:
I pull up behind the studio on my custom-built motorbike. As I remove my helmet, I spot Silas striding toward me with purpose.
“Still in love?” he asks, glancing at my bike. When I give him a confused look, he grins and gestures toward it. “The bike.”
“Well, I better be after all the work I put into it,” I reply, a smile breaking through. I really do love that bike.
He nods, then shifts the conversation. “And how about you? How do you feel about yourself?”
“Good… I’m good,” I say, but I know I’m not convincing. I’m not a good enough actor to sell it.
“You sure?” He gives me that knowing look, the one that reads me like an open book. “Because I’m picking up something… and I definitely wouldn’t call it good.”
I swallow hard. “Just the usual stuff, you know?”
“Well, we all have our baggage. Just size it down and get present with your narrative. You’ve done it many times before,” he advises, looking me in the eye. I nod, absorbing his words. He gestures toward the building with a slight tilt of his head. “Want to blow this off? We could take a ride up to the national park on the bikes… let the wind clear our heads.”
“Thanks, but I want to work,” I say, receiving a knowing nod in return. “I promise you, I’m good.”
He pulls me in for a hug, and I embrace him back, feeling a moment of comfort before stepping into the building, ready for the auditions.
- Writer
