Chapter Two
Hannah Black
The milk crashed into my bowl of cereal as I sat at the kitchen table. I was up early for a casting call that was scheduled to start at 1 pm. The way things had been going lately, I felt like it was pointless for me to show up. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. I didn’t have the right look, or my personality wouldn’t mesh well with the other main actors. It was enough to discourage me from pursuing my career altogether, but something inside of me wouldn’t allow me to take my hands off the rope. I had to keep trying because I didn’t know how close I was to my big break.
“Soooo,” Carrie said as she stepped into the kitchen with her nightgown on. She tied the belt around her waist as she scooted across the kitchen floor in her house shoes. “Are we ready for our casting call today?” She walked into the kitchen with a smile that was much too energized without a cup of coffee in her system. She grabbed the box of cereal and glared at it. “Mighty-o’s?” she asked, with her eyebrows wrinkled together like an accordion.
She smacked my hand, and the spoon dropped into the bowl before she removed it from the table. “No, that is not the breakfast of champions.” She walked to the refrigerator and pulled a carton of eggs from the shelf, then broke two of them open and spilled the contents into the skillet. I leaned back in my chair and smiled. She was my best friend; my backbone. The one who was always there, encouraging me at times when I felt the lowest. She embodied the carefree personality that I envied, and somehow, she managed to rid herself of all her insecurities until she was completely comfortable in her own skin.
It was a natural thing for her, though. Her long blonde hair was feathered with burgundy streaks, and it danced just beneath her shoulder blades. She had dimples in her backside that most would have found repulsive, but she didn’t hide them. She wore bikinis to the beach and walked freely as if she were the finest woman there. Her B-cup breasts were large enough to draw attention from men, and she was pretty, but it was her confidence that made her more appealing.
“I am going to make you a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel with a nice cup of coffee. Protein and caffeine.” She paused as the eggs sizzled inside of the skillet. “Wait, are eggs full of protein? Do I have that right?” she asked, looking towards me. I shrugged my shoulders as she took the salt and pepper from the cabinet. “Yeah, I’m sure it is. If I’m wrong, then sue me.”
“I will! Trust me; I will.”
She laughed, “Yeah. I’m sure your lawyer will be happy about the pack of sugar-free gum and candy canes I have in my purse, because that is all you will be getting.”
She prepared breakfast for me and slid the plate on the table. Steam rose from the sandwich like a cigar as I glared down at her creation. I sighed as the steam billowed out of the coffee mug. “Hannah? What is it?”
I took a knife and sliced the bagel down the middle. “I’m just nervous about this casting call. I mean, how many auditions have I failed at in the last week? Four? Five?”
“Hannah,” she said, as she folded her arms over her chest. “No. No, no, and no again. We are not going to start this pity party today. We are not! This is a new chance for you, and you must have a short-term memory about all that stuff in the past. You have to, or else you will never make it out of this rut.” I took a knife and eased it into the jar of jelly, then spread it around on the bagel. I heard what she was saying, but it still didn’t register.
“Hannah. Look at me.” I kept my eyes focused on the bagel until she reached her hand across the table and nudged my chin. “Look. You are beautiful. You are charming and witty, and more importantly, you have the talent. You have the complete package, Hannah, and you are going to stop shortchanging yourself. You are going to go into the casting call and be yourself. Be the Hannah that walks around here cracking corny, goofy jokes and mimicking every actress from here to freakin’ London. You can do this, Hannah. Just be yourself. Just. Be. Yourself. They won’t have a choice but to love you.”
She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, then headed out of the kitchen. “Oh, and wear something that shows off that cleavage of yours. Let the ladies breathe a little bit; it won’t hurt.” I chuckled as I took bite of my bagel. A glob of jelly squeezed out the back of the sandwich and plopped onto my lap. I rolled my eyes. Here we go.
I arrived at the casting call. It was at a building called “The Journey,” nearly 45 minutes away from where I lived. As soon as I walked into the building, young faces with caked-on makeup and slim bodies walked around in groups like hyenas. They looked towards me as soon as I walked in, like I was a gazelle unaware of the trap I just walked into.
I smiled at one of them, but she rolled her eyes and flipped her hair as I walked past. If Carrie was with me, she would’ve confronted her. Not me, though. I was non-confrontational, so for the most part, I just let bygones be bygones. After I had checked in, I sat in a vacant seat near the end of the auditorium. Mockup posters of the movie they were casting for were scattered along the walls. Titled The Day We Die, it was a suspense movie, and the main actress needed to be an athletic, witty type of woman who could take down the killer at the end of the movie.
I had an athletic build, and I could be witty when I wanted to, but I was still unsure of my chances of landing the role. If it wasn’t for Carrie, there was no way I would be here right now. I had no idea how long the casting call would be, but judging by the number of women in the auditorium, I knew that I would be sitting for quite a while. I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my social networks, updating Twitter as the time went by.
Almost an hour passed before a woman came to the front of the room and called my name from a sheet of paper. “Hannah Black?” I quickly dropped my phone into my purse, snatched my portfolio out, and headed to the front of the room. My heels clicked against the polished floor as I made my way towards her.
“Hannah?” she asked with a blank expression on her face.
I smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Right this way.”
Without introducing herself, she led me through a set of double doors and down a small corridor into an audition room. Inside, there were three people sitting at a table in the front of the room; one man and two women. A few men and women were scattered around the sides as they worked on props and other signs. The man spoke as he removed his thin, horn-rimmed glasses from his face. “Hannah Black, correct?” he asked, looking down at the sheet of paper on the table in front of him.
I stood five feet away. “Yes, sir.”
“Excellent,” he said, as he rested his glasses on the bridge of his nose and folded his hands on the table. It was decorated with a velvet covering, and the name of the movie hung on a sign across the front. “My name is Kent Washington, the director. This is Amy Shutter,” he said, extending his hand to his left, “and this is Kaitlyn Tate. So, what do you have for us?”
I stumbled in my heels as I walked to place my portfolio on the table in front of them. “I’m sorry,” I said, as I regained my balance. “But, here is my portfolio. I’ve done a lot of work in the past. Acting. Well, mostly commercials and whatnot.” I smiled. “A few movies but–”
“Who have you worked with?”
“I’m sorry?”
He peered at me as his nose was still downward, pointed towards my portfolio. “Who have you worked with? Directors? Actors?”
“Oh. Directors. Shaun Latung. Anderson Crawley. Michael–”
“I’ve never heard of them,” he said, cutting me off sharply as he slid my folder to the middle of the table. The woman to his left tapped her fingernails against the surface of the table. The sound mimicked a small army, marching towards my defeat. To his right, another woman exhaled and ran her fingers through her hair as she turned to look at Kent.
“Well, um,” I could feel nervous beads of sweat forming on my brow. “I have done a lot of work with them. Just um, you know, different things. Comedies. Romantic comedies, actually. I have… um…” the words played a twisted game of hide and seek with me as I rambled in front of them, quickly losing their interest.
Suddenly, Amy spoke up, “Can you remove your purse, please? Just place it down right there in front of you. I want you to walk a little bit for us.”
“Walk?”
“Catwalk.”
“Oh,” I said, chuckling. “I got it.” I took a deep breath, and at that moment, my legs felt as if they were going to buckle beneath me. With my first step, my heel turned to the right and nearly sent me tumbling to the ground. I heard a sigh from behind me as I shook my head.
“Have you done this before?” Kaitlyn asked with a voice full of annoyance.
“Yes. Yes, I just um–”
“All right,” Kent said as he took his glasses off and rubbed his temples. “Thank you, Vannah.”
“Hannah.”
“Right. We will contact you and let you know which way we are going with the role. Please go out the opposite way you came in. Out the door and to the right. Thanks.”
I grabbed my purse, fighting to keep my smile as I headed out of the room. “Excuse me, Hannah,” he said as I walked the down the hall the opposite way I came in. “You left your portfolio in the room.”
I turned around as he stood with my papers extended in my direction. “Goodness. Thank you. My mind was all over the place in there; it only makes sense for me to forget that behind.”
He smiled. “No problem at all.” As I slipped the folder into my purse, he continued, “Do you know how to get out of here? I see they kind of sent you out without any directions.”
“Well,” I said as we walked side by side. “He did say out the door and to the right.” As we made it down the hallway, there were five different doors. Three doors were spaced out 10 feet from each other on one wall, and two doors were on both ends of the perpendicular hallway. He smiled once I noticed the number of options.
“Yeah,” he said. “This is where it gets confusing. I don’t know why he doesn’t tell everyone which door to take at the end. But, Kent can be kind of a jerk sometimes.”
“Kind of?” I asked with one eyebrow raised above the other. “That man was one of the rudest men I’ve been around in a while. He would make a good judge on one of these talent shows. I think they all need that one jerk to keep people interested. Maybe I should send him the link in an email,” I said, laughing. “I’m sure it won’t affect my chances here, seeing as how they basically put a boot to my behind and told me to hit the bricks.”
“Well, I’ve seen him treat people far worse. I could tell that you were nervous, though. Like, right now? You don’t seem nervous at all, and I can tell that you have a magnetic personality. I just think your nerves got the best of you. I mean, you could barely walk without stumbling in there.”
“Sheesh, tell me about it,” I said, looking down at my heels. “I felt like clicking these things together and going back to Nebraska.” I paused, “Wait, where is Dorothy from?”
He laughed. “Kansas.”
“Well, shoot. Kansas. Nebraska. Same thing.” He rubbed his chin as I stood beside him. “Well, are you going to tell me which door to take so I can get out of this Godforsaken place, or are you about to push me into one of them and keep me as your slave?”
“Well,” he said, lifting his eyebrows.
I lowered my eyes, “You can try it, sir, but I guarantee that my father will find you… and he will kill you.”
He laughed, then walked me to the door on the right at the end of the hall. The sun beamed and blinded me for a second until I was able to adjust. “Thank you,” I said, inviting him to tell me his name.
“Brian. My name is Brian, and it was a pleasure to meet you, Hannah. The real you.”
“Thank you.”
As I walked to my car, Carrie’s words replayed in my mind like a catchy hook. “Just. Be. Yourself.” I don’t know what happened when I first stepped foot into that room, but I changed. I tensed up. Maybe it was the aura that was already in the room before I came in. Maybe it was their attitudes that threw me off, but either way, I wasn’t myself. Just then, my phone buzzed inside of my purse. It was Carrie. I don’t know how she knew that it was the right time to call, but she did. “Hello?” I asked, dejected.
“Aw, sweetie. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? How did you know?”
“Because you wear your heart on your sleeve. Well, I mean, you wear your heart in your voice. What happened?”
“I did exactly what you told me not to.”
I turned my key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. I was headed home after another failure, and at 26 years old, I was getting close to the end of my rope.