For Colin, the bathroom mirror had a basic purpose: a place to look before he walked out the door to make sure he hadn’t missed a spot shaving, that he didn’t have a giant pimple, and that he had no spinach in his teeth.

But today, he found himself standing naked before it, looking at himself, deciding if Hamilton had been lying or not about how hot he looked. He did have a naturally good build, and he didn’t overeat. He was, he admitted guiltily, one of those guys who didn’t have to try too hard to stay in shape. But just imagine what you’d look like, if you started working out. Started hitting the gym.

And then, the forbidden thought, the one he batted away with a frown. Just imagine how hot the sex will be with Hamilton when you put on ten pounds of muscle, eh?

Dammit! He didn’t need to please Hamilton. Hamilton was being paid to please him. And if the money was gone, Hamilton would be gone.

But maybe you should do it to please yourself, he thought. Maybe, you know, he smirked at himself, it’s possible that someday, equipped with all the sexual skills you’re picking up, you might get laid for free.

His phone rang in the other room, breaking the spell. He picked it up when he saw it was Roz, calling from LA.

“And what, may I ask, has led you to call and not text?”

“Good morning to you, too. Did you get laid last night?”

Colin flushed. “What?”

“You just sound so chipper, I thought you must have finally busted a nut.”

“It’s a good morning, Roz. I feel good. The sun is shining, the weather’s fine, I’ve got money in my pocket, what’s not to like.”

“Well, I got something you’ll really like. Now, just hear me out…”

Colin opened his mouth to cut her off. He knew what was coming when she ordered him to hear her out – an audition she was sure he’d be perfect for.

“I’m listening,” he said, astonishing himself.

His agreeable response was so stunning that she was momentarily lost for words. “Oh. Okay then.” She rustled some papers. “It’s an audition for a movie role, filming in New York. A small part, playing a talk show host at a radio station. So you’ve got the perfect voice for it. It’s about ten lines.”

“And it’s casting here in town?”

“Yeah, they’re filming there, LA, and Paris.”

“Wow. You know who’s starring?”

“No clue.”

Colin picked up a pen. “Okay, let me have the details.”

Silence.

“Come on, then, chop chop.”

Roz’s tone was suspicious. “You’re just going to write this down to humor me, aren’t you.”

“You know, on a normal day? Yeah. But this is not that day.”

“You did get laid. Spectacularly well laid.”

“Confidence is high, I repeat, confidence is high. Start talking, sister.”

* * *

Even now, in the bathroom at the casting agency, he could hardly believe it himself. He was here, at the cattle call. Auditioning for a real acting part in a real movie, in a room where people would be looking at him and judging him.

Not that his confidence had magically transformed him into a different person overnight, he realized, wiping his mouth and flushing the toilet after his second barf of the morning. But this one was just a dry heave, mostly, so there was that anyway.

But he’d got the sides from the agency, and he’d read the part, and he’d loved it. The poor talk show host had to try and cut away to commercial, or a station identification, or anything, away from the main characters, a famous married couple who were bickering on air with an escalatingly Seven Dirty Words You Can’t Say argument, as the engineer frantically waved at him to indicate that the bleep button wasn’t working and all the F bombs were going out live.

He went back to the waiting area and focused on his sides. It was a cold read. He wasn’t expected to memorize it, but shit, ten lines, he could get most of them memorized if he was called late enough. Many of the other actors were chatting it up, talking shop, veterans of innumerable Law and Order episodes, once the bread and butter of New York actors.

Colin kept to himself, mostly because he didn’t know anyone there. And his acting coach had frightened him with the specter of random casting people peeking into the room, to see who was working on their lines and who was gossiping, to see who was Serious About Their Craft.

“We’re going to take a little break here,” he said with a forced lightness, getting inside the head of a radio man who was trying to keep it together even as his guests lost their shit on air.

“We’re going to take a little break here,” he said with a what-the-fuck tone that told his audience just what he thought of these two assholes.

“We’re going to take a little break here,” he said with a cheerful obliviousness, as if listening to a husband and wife swearing up a blue moon at each other was just another day at the office.

The door opened to the casting room. “Colin O’Neill?” a woman read off a clipboard.

“Yeah. Here. Hi.”

He walked into the Place of Execution, re-tasting the six tropical fruit flavor Tums he’d just eaten.

Two men and one woman sat behind a folding table, a pile of head shots and resumes in front of them. There was a camera set up, and a duct tape X on the floor to show him his mark. One of the women was Elaine Taylor, a veteran casting director.

One of the men pushed a button on the camera, and the red light came on.

“Slate please,” Elaine said, not looking up.

“Hi, I’m Colin O’Neill, and I’m represented by Clarice Talent.”

“Action.”

Colin put on a forced jollity. “Well, the two of you certainly have a lot to talk about. Why don’t we…”

The second man cut him off, reading the part of the husband from the script in a monotone, giving him nothing to play off.

“I’m as surprised as you are, Jerry. Nina and I haven’t had jack shit to talk about for years now, and suddenly…”

“I’ve had plenty to talk about, Sam,” Elaine read. “You just don’t fucking listen when I say it.”

“Hey,” Colin said nervously, “the FCC is listening, kids. And it looks like we have a problem with our bleeper, so our apologies to all of you out there in radio land. I hope you guys will…”

“Yeah, I don’t fucking listen when you always sound like the teacher on Peanuts, it’s all just wa wa fucking wa wa.”

“Whoa. Whoa.” Colin’s tone changed, suddenly more forceful. “This is a family show, guys.”

“Jerry” responded. “Yeah? Well they need to learn what a real fucking family sounds like, and…”

“HEY,” Colin cut him off assertively. “That’s your wife you’re talking to there.”

“You can have her if you want.”

“You know, a lot of men would take you up on that, Chuck.”

“Thank you, that’s enough,” the woman said.

“Okay, thanks,” Colin said, turning to leave. He knew he’d blown it. Somehow the character he’d rehearsed out there had disappeared in the middle of his audition.

The voice of one of the men stopped him. “Quick question. Why did you choose to get so firm there?”

Colin didn’t have to think about it. “It just came over me. I know the lines are meant to be comical, that this guy’s an ineffective guy in a suit saying the right things, with no power behind them, and he’s getting run over. I just… had a testosterone surge, I guess. Got possessed by some inner alpha male I didn’t know I had in me.”

They laughed. Elaine looked at him. “You’re the Taco Bell guy.”

It was his turn to chuckle. “Yeah, I am.”

“That’s pretty alpha.”

Colin thought about it. “Yeah, if he has the power to rouse stoned couch potatoes to get up and actually leave the house for food, that is pretty alpha, huh.”

They all laughed again. Elaine actually smiled. “We’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you,” Colin said, astonished. He knew what she meant. The generic neutral words told him, No, you’re not getting this, but her tone said, but we’ll remember you.

Colin was a good actor, and a professional, and it wasn’t until he’d passed the sidelong glances of the other actors, that he allowed himself a huge grin.

Who the fuck was that in there? he asked himself. Where was the guy who flubs every line? Where was the character I was supposed to be, the hapless foil?

Colin knew where he was. He’d been left behind in that hotel room, exorcised by the power of Hamilton’s cock in his ass. He’d been banished by Hamilton’s hands on him, approving, excited.

That Colin was a ghost now. He’d passed through the fire, and this guy, this was the guy he really was, after all.

He smiled, standing at the crosswalk and waiting for the light to change. Surrounded by pedestrians who paid him no mind, he spoke to the air, defiantly.

“Yeah. Taco Fuckin’ Bell.”