“Well, it’s official,” Laurel says, whistling as she looks at the sheet of paper taped to the door of my dressing room. Yup, you guessed it: my name’s on it. “You’re a star now.”

“Nobody knows who I am,” I reply as I turn the handle on the door and step inside. The room isn’t that spacious, and there’s nothing inside but a full body mirror, a fold up table, two chairs, an old couch and some clothes hanging from a rack nailed to the wall. Not exactly the dressing room of an Oscar winner but, hey, it has my name on the door.

“Nobody knows who you are yet,” Laurel corrects me, throwing her purse over the table and sitting down in one of the chairs. “With me as your PA, you’ll soar high in the skies, my young pupil.”

“Go easy on the Zen preaching, okay?” I laugh, walking over to the clothes rack. I run my fingers through the dresses hanging there, feeling the smooth fabric against my skin. Each and every one of these dresses has my exact measurements (I got measured by a tailor right before I signed my contract with the network), and that makes me feel...I’m not sure on how to describe what I’m exactly feeling right now, but it’s a good feeling.

“I see you’re already settling in,” I hear a feminine voice say. My heart skips a beat as I recognize the voice of a woman I’ve watched on TV countless times—Alberta, Kane’s pretend daughter. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Oh, hey,” I greet her awkwardly, my eyes darting to the flowers she’s holding in her hands. She’s standing by the doorway, an easy smile on her lips, and she looks even more beautiful than she does on TV. Her hair has been straightened out, cascading over her shoulders easily, and the makeup around her cat-like eyes has been done so perfectly that it’s hard to believe she wasn’t born looking like this. More than just an actress, she looks as if she’s part of a Royal family.

My first day at work, and I’m already face-to-face with someone like her.

“May I?”

“Oh, of course. Yeah, come in,” I tell her, taking one step back. Her smile opens up even more, and she pushes the flowers she’s holding—a bouquet of yellow roses—into my hands.

“These are for you. Welcome to the set!” She chirps happily and, after smiling back at her, I can’t resist and look at Laurel. See, the expression on my face tells her, she’s not that bad in real life.

“Mm,” Alberta continues, looking around my cramped dressing room with a thoughtful expression. “I see they’ve given you my first dressing room.”

“Really? I had no idea about that. I feel, hm, honored,” I reply, not sure if I picked the right words.

“Oh, don’t. It’s too small, really. It’s cramped, and it gets awfully hot during the Summer. But I’m sure you’ll grow accustomed to it,” she continues and, for the first time since she stepped inside the room, I’m not exactly sure of the meaning behind her words. It sounds like she’s being friendly, but there’s something in her specific choice of words that makes me feel wary.

“So, nervous about your first day?” She then asks me, holding the back of one of the chairs and looking straight into my eyes.

“A bit, yes,” I admit, running my tongue between my lips. They’re starting to feel dry already, and that means I’m getting nervous. I don’t know if I’m star struck right now or if she’s just making me uncomfortable; either way, I’m already looking forward to having her leave.

“I suppose you have to be nervous, yeah,” she whispers, lowering her gaze. It almost looks like she’s talking to herself and not to me. Then, raising her gaze again and locking her eyes on mine, she continues. “After all, you’ve never worked in a production like this, right? It’s been what? A lot of commercials?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly how it’s been,” I reply meekly, the dryness on my lips now taking over my whole mouth.

“Well, let’s hope you don’t go back to that. I’m rooting for you,” she finishes off, clapping her hands together and offering me her biggest smile yet. She definitely pulls off the I’m-being-nice-and-supportive act but, right now, I can’t help but agree with Laurel: there’s something about her that’s slightly off-putting.

“Ah...Hm, thank you,” I nod with a nervous smile. “Any tips?”

“Oh, as a matter of fact, yes...Don’t piss off the wrong people. Some are really vindictive, you know? Just be careful,” she says and, with that, she turns on her heels and walks out the door, the hemline of her dress swirling as she turns. Well, she definitely mastered the dramatic walk-out, that much is for sure.

“I don’t like her,” Laurel tells me flatly as I close the door behind Laurel, the click of her high heels fading as she walks down the corridor. Folding her hands behind her head, Laurel clicks her tongue as if she’s looking for the right word. “Too presumptuous.”

“You don’t know that. She was being nice. Even brought me flowers.”

“Yeah, of course...She was only being nice. And I’m the Queen of England; bow before me, peasant!” She cries out, jumping up to her feet as she looks at me with a dramatic expression.

“C’mon, she even gave me —”

“What, a tip? In case you didn’t notice, she was only telling you not to step on her toes or she’d rip your head off.” She shrugs casually, and then sits back down. “At least that’s what I heard.”

“Well ...even if you’re right. I’m not here to get into a catfight with Alberta. I’m a professional, and I’m here to work.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” she sighs, and the tone of her voice sends a shiver up my spine. Am I already on a collision course with Alberta, someone who's one of the best-paid actresses in TV?

I’m just a nobody.