The waiting room of Langford Productions was packed with men between eighteen and twenty-five years old. At twenty-eight, Camden knew he was the oldest one in the room, and he also knew that was a very bad sign.

He signed his name on the bottom of a long list, the pretty receptionist as unimpressed with him as with everybody else. “Just take a seat,” she said for the hundredth time that day, at it wasn’t even noon.

Camden sat down and glanced at the other men around him. They were all comparably tall and handsome, some with long hair, others with short cuts and some shaved completely bald. The majority of them were white, though a few were black and there were a few with light brown latin complexions.

He had faced many roomfuls of such men countless times in his struggling career. They’d chased off better actors than he, men more confident and more experienced, but for some reason, the competition only inspired Camden to press on, with even greater determination if for no other reason than to prove them wrong.

But as the years went on, he had to wonder if they really had been wrong, if he wasn’t just stubbornly standing his ground like some old croc at a watering hole that was fast drying up, the beast dying in the mud rather than give up what was fast becoming untenable ground.

But the world had trained him to be committed, to dig in and not give in, to be resilient, a fighter. And if there was still a chance of making his father proud, Camden was willing to keep trying. Just one more audition, he told himself, just one more shot.

And Camden also knew that he had little choice. Longshadows was keeping him alive, but he didn’t see a future in it. With Kate’s words ringing in his memory, he felt more and more that it wasn’t where he belonged. But neither was South Boston. And Camden had spent so much time and energy trying to become an actor that he was looking at a future that had little else to offer him, and to which he had little else to offer.

After what seemed like hours, they called his name and Camden took a deep breath before stepping into the executive office.

They were very friendly and receptive, glancing at Camden’s headshot and resumé. “Okay, Camden,” the woman said without standing up. “I’m Claire Appleby, producer. This is Tyler Tate and Randall Ott, director, and executive producer.” She was a slight and pretty redhead, flanked by two casually dressed men with fast-food guts and graying stubble.

“Thank you for seeing me,” Camden said, taking his place in front of the desk.

Claire handed him two sheets of screenplay manuscript. “It’s okay,” he said, “I’m off book.”

The woman and her male colleagues shared impressed glances and she said, “Okay, let’s do the speech then. I’ll give you the pickup lines. Ready?”

Camden shook out his limbs and twisted his head to release any extra tension in his neck. “Go for it.”

The woman read in a stilted tone, “You were never anything more to me than a diversion, don’t you know that?”

“Yeah,” Camden said from memory, “I knew that, I always knew that. What could be less important in the world than somebody like me, especially to somebody like you? You’ve got everything you thought you wanted; wealth, fame, top of the world.” Camden thought about Amy, about what she’d faced and tried to overcome, and about his own challenges to prevail over a different and almost opposite set of challenges. Camden knew at that moment that he and Amy were two different sides of the same coin, one wealthy and one poor, neither contented or complete.

Without the other.

He went on, “You finally made it out of Mt. Vernon; Paul Lynde, America’s favorite bitch. But what did you find out here, Paul, what have you really created for yourself? You’re just the man in the center square, trapped in a little box you couldn’t get out of if you tried. It’s a cage with golden bars, Paul, and you’re in it for life.”

A lingering silence filled the office after Camden’s performance, and the female film executive offered a curt smile. “Okay, thanks for coming in.”

Camden smiled and thanked them and made his way out, certain that he’d never see any of them again.

He headed down to his car, parked on the crowded Sunset Boulevard. No chance they’ll hire me, Camden told himself. I’m too old, and they didn’t care about that performance. Maybe it wasn’t even any good. I thought it was, and I’ll bet Amy would have appreciated it, but maybe neither one of us truly knows what we’re talking about.

Amy.

Camden shook it off, trying not to think about her.

Get that girl outta your head, Camden’s inner-self warned him. She’s off to something else by now, no question. Now that she’s been turned on, she’s probably on a flight to Amsterdam ready to go buck wild or something. Bet she’s not sitting around thinking about some failed wannabe actor!

Maybe I should follow her lead, Camden silently suggested to himself. Maybe it’s time to admit this whole actor thing is pointless. Even if I succeeded, what does it all amount to anyway? All this fiction, all these lies, one upon another. Love will always discover the truth indeed. What truth is there in my life to reveal?

What love is there?

Camden’s phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket, Lew Weiss’ name on the screen. Damn, Camden scolded himself, forgot to call. Time to give him the bad news, I guess.

“Lew, hi,” Camden said, pressing a smile. “Sorry, I forgot to call, it was such a long wait —”

“No worries, Cam, no worries at all. I just heard from the girl at Langford.”

“Look, Lew, they were pretty unreceptive. As soon as I walked in, I knew they — ”

“You got a call-back.”

“I … what?”

Lew chuckled. “What can I tell ‘ya, Cam? They liked the cut of your jib.” Camden wasn’t sure how to respond, confusion clogging his throat. “They’re gonna want you to come in for some readings, photographs, things like that. Think you can keep your schedule open?”

“Well … sure, Lew, of course.”

“Excellent. Congrats, Cam, I’m really glad for you.”

“Yeah, thanks, Lew. I mean, I haven’t got the job yet. But either way, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Just keep that in mind when you’re a huge star, okay? I’ll be in touch.”