by Jackson Kane
“I have to do this.” Autumn’s head dipped. Her expression was marred by so many swirling emotions. If she was going to be an actress she’d have to control that.
“Head up, eyes forward,” I demanded. If you’re really going through with this there’s no room for weakness. When her wet, brown eyes washed over me I finished my thought. “You’re auditioning against real talent so toughen up. You’re only allowed to be vulnerable in this cutthroat business when the script calls for it. Otherwise hide that pain in your dressing room. Or use it in your performance. Nothing else matters.”
I was hoping to fire her up, make her mad enough to seize the will she’d need to win. I was met with the opposite, there was a renewed sullenness to her that made me almost regret coming on so strong.
Almost.
“I’ll see you inside.” Checking my watch, I began walking toward the brick and green painted metal of the stadium. It was getting late and I’d done all I could. The rest was up to her.
“Wait, what?” Autumn finally shook off the startled haze of my abrupt presence. A mild panic infected her voice. “Why are you even here?”
“You think you’re auditioning just for them?” I slowed to a stop and glanced back at her. “You’re here to impress me too.”
Chapter 8
Autumn
The makeup room wasn’t at all what I was expecting. It wasn’t enormous or anything, just nothing like the last film. I was beginning to learn how fluid the industry was, like the same amount of water poured into different container. For the last film they did my hair, makeup and wardrobe in a mobile village with trailers for the main actors, production, and some of the crew. They called it base camp.
This time I was in a large, rectangular room in the VIP Pavilion box section of baseball stadium.
There was a bathroom, full kitchen, bar, high top table with chairs, and two couches—both of which were pushed against the back wall to make room for a hair cutting chair and a makeup station. We were basically in a hotel room without beds. On the far wall was a glass wall and walk out balcony to exterior seating that overlooked the field.
Lionhouse Studio was actively filming a baseball movie and had rented the field for the day. Seeing as I lived relatively close to the stadium, that’s why they told me to come here for my audition today instead of flying me out to LA.
That was fine by me. I’d never been here before. It was all very impressive and almost completely wasted on me. I wasn’t a baseball fan, but I would admit that there was something interesting about being in a place as old and with as much history as Fenway Stadium. Mom hated the Red Sox. Being born in New York, she was a Yankee fan through and through. I couldn’t wait to see Mom’s reaction to all the pictures I was taking on my phone!
It was on the third day of waiting around the stadium that I finally saw the film trucks. Once I told them who I was and what I was here for they told me everything else I needed to know. There was a little resistance when checked in with the second assistant director and they couldn’t find my name in the confirmed list. I kept asking them to recheck, while I told them everything I remembered from the email. Eventually through sheer frustration, the second AD just wrote my name in, and gave me my confidentiality paperwork to fill out. It was surprising how far you could get if you just looked like you belonged.
Mom was back at home resting. She was going a little stir crazy now that the doctor made her quit most of her jobs. Aunt Paula owned her own small website management business. Her flexible schedule and ability to work anywhere allowed her to keep Mom company throughout most of the day. She also made sure Mom listened to the doctor and made it to her appointments on time.
The room was absolutely covered in product. For the stadium being such a hyper-masculine place, I took great joy in the fact that the part I was in smelled like a beauty salon. Lotions, powders, perfumes, brushes and bottles of varying size littered almost every surface, completely covering the table, kitchen area and bar.
An older lady who’d obviously been in the business for decades, trimmed and styled my hair with blurring speed and precision, pausing only for a moment here and there to glance at the film’s style guide—A set of loose-leaf papers stapled together with photos of examples that fit the narrative’s time period and locale. She hummed along with the old country music that was softly Bluetoothed from her phone into a nearby set of speakers.
“Done,” Linda said with a final clip of her scissors like she was going for some sort of timed record. She placed a hand on my shoulder when I started to get out of the chair, only to sit me back down and snip a little more off the back of my hair. “Done. Done.”
“You always gotta wait for the second done, Honey,” said Melissa, the distracted, gorgeous, mid-forties redhead. The makeup artist was setting up the foundations and eye shadow palette that went with my skin tone on the waist-high wooden cabinet across from her station.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” As I got up I was moved back into the seat again by the deceptively strong, sliver-haired stylist. She was done cutting my hair, but apparently wasn’t finished with me yet. My shoulders, neck and face were powdered and gently brushed.
“And done, done, done.” Linda smiled, her inflection rising with each repetition of the word. She lifted the barber cape, careful not to get any loose hair on me and shook it out onto the floor. I sat there until she kindly nodded for me to get up.
It was only when I sat down again at the makeup station a few feet over that I realized there was no actual mirror in the room, not like the wall of mirrors that was in the trailer on the last film. Here there was only a dark, flat screen LED TV that gave my reflection a haunted, otherworldly look.
“I’m not nearly as quick as our scissor-handed friend over there, so…” Melissa trailed off as she looked me over deciding how best to start. She was even prettier up close.
“So I should get comfortable then, huh?” I smiled, trying to lighten the slightly off atmosphere in the room. It wasn’t hostile, just impersonal. I might as well have been at a grocery store deli counter.
“Hmm?” Melissa buzzed around me applying makeup to my face and neck in almost imperceptibly subtle layers. She’d already lost interest in our brief exchange. I knew they were just doing their job, but it was hard not to be a little wounded by their blatant disregard to my presence.
They didn’t care to even fake small talk with me.
Judging by their unabashed, easy gossip with each other it was clear that these two women had obviously worked closely together on many projects. Their conversations flowed seamlessly from their spouses to work and back again.
I was always a little too empathetic and strived to be liked, even subconsciously. Maybe that was why I gravitated toward YouTube as an outlet. I liked making things that people enjoyed and the support I got on there far outweighed the occasional shitty comments. That was why it was so difficult not to take any of the exchanges I’d gone through today personally.
I cut my losses, closed my eyes and let her work. It was better that I let my mind drift. It was all I could do to keep my mind off how much I needed to land this role; how my mother’s life might literally depend on it. Dwelling on how much was at stake immediately made me begin to feel nauseous.
I exhaled hard in one short burst, clearing my head — which drew an irritated request from Melissa to stop fidgeting—and trying not grab my ear, I latched onto the next thing that flitted across my mind.
Thoughts of Dante’s ambush and everything I wished I said to him outside crackled in my head like a lightening storm. Was that cryptic crap in the parking lot? What did he mean by impressing him? Was he just trying to keep me off balance?
Dante struck me as mischievous not cruel. Not that I knew anything about him… he was a daredevil who came into my life like a series of car crashes. He was sexy, then almost sweet and fun to talk to, but then…I had no idea what that was all about in the parking lot. I doubted I’d ever be able to fully understand a guy li
ke him. That frustrated me to no end!
The worst part was that he was just mysterious enough that I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
“What was that about Dante?” I asked, hearing his name. I blinked at the row of bright bulbs above the TV mirror, my eyes struggling to adjust after being closed for what felt like an hour.
“Eyes closed, Hun.” Melissa’s voice was sharp, like a rap across the knuckles. “I don’t want to poke you by accident.”
“It’s just I saw him earlier.” I snapped my eyes closed again for both our sakes. “Is he working on the baseball movie?”
“Not our department thankfully.” Melissa coolly remarked, never so much as slowing down to even consider the question.
“He hasn’t come through here so I don’t think he’s on our show,” Linda added after giving it some thought. It was pretty clear by her tone that she wasn’t talking to me.
“Mmm. Must be here for the interviews then.” Melissa agreed, before rattling off commands to me. “Eyes open. Look up please.”
Interviews? That was me. Crap, so I did have to impress him! Whatever the hell that meant. Was I going to have to do some stunt scene with him? My chest tightened. Great… As if I needed any more stress.
My lines were memorized and the physical beats for the monologue felt comfortable. I’d had three days before this of heavy practice as I waited in the parking lot for film vehicles that never showed. I was nervous of course, but I felt prepared at least with these lines. I shuttered to think what would happen if they gave me new sides to read. As long as I could stick to what I rehearsed I was ready.
Ready for everything, but him.
“Ha!” Linda laughed. Her voice took on an air of incredulity. “Could you imagine trying to keep tabs on that one?”
Melissa didn’t respond, instead she just forced the air out of her nose and shook her head.
“It’s always the handsome ones that are the craziest.” Linda gestured flippantly. I could see her dark reflection in the black screen of the TV. She was sitting on the couch flipping idly through a magazine.
I began to reply, but was interrupted. I swallowed, feeling a little trampled at Melissa’s timing.
“That would certainly make him the craziest.” Melissa leaned back to take in her work, then touched up a few spots. Her stern face took on severe notes. “Crazier than he even is handsome.”
“I take it you don’t like Dante?” I asked, trying not to get discouraged. “Did he do something wrong?”
“No. Or at least nothing he’s gotten caught for yet.” Melissa’s scorn visibly deepened. “I just don’t trust him. The film community is a small place all things considered. After awhile, you get to know the people you work with.”
Folding the magazine in half, Linda looked up. Coming to some realization she chuckled loudly “We’re the office water cooler!”
“Right.” Melissa cracked a smile at the metaphor. Like any really juicy gossip, the room became more animated; even Melissa showed a hint of actual emotion.
“Still though…” I said a little more confidently. Gossip was a world I understood very well. “You can’t know everything about everyone.”
“Almost done, Hun.” Melissa breezed over my statements with her typical flatness while darkening my eyelashes.
Done done? Or just done? I thought spitefully, but of course kept that to myself. I deflated a little more. I’d had more genuine human interactions when I got automated spam calls telling me how I’d won a free timeshare.
“That’s just it. No one knows anything about Dante Marks.” Linda interjected. She wasn’t any warmer of a person, but was by far the more inquisitive of the two. “The man shows up out of the blue three years ago, driving cars like the Devil himself, and quickly becomes the most sought after stuntman in the world. That kind of skill doesn’t go unnoticed. The real question is where exactly did he learn those things?”
“There has to be a school for that, right?” I asked. “There’s a school for everything. Like some kind of stunt school maybe?”
“Plenty.” Melissa said. “But from all the other stunt performers I’ve talked to Dante’s never been to any of them. Or if he has, they refused to say so.”
“Ok.” I replied. “So maybe in the military then? There had to be some record of him somewhere.” He couldn’t just not exist. He was a living, breathing, strong, hot-blooded, sexy…
“Don’t bite your lip.” Melissa scolded me, touching up my lips and cleaning my teeth.
Sorry. I didn’t actually say the word out loud, but my posture straightened.
“Nope! There’s no easy to find record of him in the service anywhere.” Linda said, then cryptically added, “At least not in our military.”
I fought to keep the skeptical smile from invading my face while Melissa was working on me. “So you’re saying—”
“We’re saying we don’t know.” Melissa retorted coming to her friend’s defense. “And that makes us all a little uncomfortable.”
There was a sudden knock on the door which was more of a warning than a request. A tall, thin, hipster-looking guy with a vest and newsboy cap entered, both his arms were full of plastic protected clothes.
“Is Autumn ready for wardrobe?” He didn’t wait for a reply, before knocking on the bathroom door, which was right by the room’s entrance. He paused for half a second, then opened it and hung all the clothes behind the door.
“I’m finished with her.” Melissa spritzed my collarbone with a perfume, then stepped back and began cleaning her hands.
I didn’t like the smell at all. It was a strange mix of savory floral notes and citrus. They told me I was doing a camera interview for the director, why did I need perfume? I let it go. The faster I got all this over with the better.
“Perfect.” He shook my hand, smiling. “Hi, I’m John. When you’re all set, just step outside and I’ll bring you to Adrianna.”
“Sure. Thanks!” I smiled through the knot in my stomach. Everything gradually became more and more real, despite still feeling like an absurd fantasy
I closed the bathroom door behind me and was flushed with nervous energy. I peed for the hundredth time today then checked my reflection. I looked incredible! My skin tone was even and vibrant and radiated this airbrushed quality. My eyes were smoky and mysterious. I’d been doing my own makeup for as long as I could remember, but this was the first time in my life that I felt glamorous.
“All this for an audition?” I asked my reflection, as if that movie star version of me had more answers.
Why couldn’t Dante have seen me after my makeup!
I quickly disrobed and rifled through the outfit. All the pieces were layered in the order in which I would put them on and my name was on every hanger. It was such a small thing but it really spoke volumes to me of how big time this all was. This wasn’t a glorified extra roll; this was huge.
Was I ready for all this? I sighed, thinking of Mom. It didn’t matter what I was ready for.
I slipped on my super stylized half jacket. It completed the trendy boots, skirt, blouse badass look they were going for with my character. Twisting in front of the mirror; the transformation was complete. Despite the apprehension about the whole process, it was hard to explain how empowering it felt to become someone else.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I glanced back into the hair and makeup room and thanked them for the amazing work they did. Receiving only half-hearted good lucks and Melissa’s adamant warning not to touch my face, I stepped out of the air conditioning and onto the concourse walk way.
“Be careful with that one—” Linda’s words chased me outside, the door clicking shut after the rest of her sentence as if emphasizing the warning. “Dante Marks is trouble.”
Despite what was shaping up to be a muggy, humid, New England summer day a cool shiver ran up my spine.
John led me several doors down to a similar room where Adriana, the overworked-looking casting director greeted me.
If anything, the simple, single-minded focus of the room made me more apprehensive. I had just stepped on stage and was expected to perform. Regardless of the slow, deliberate breathes I took I could feel my pulse start racing and my palms get sweaty.
Was this auditioning process ever going to get any easier?
Mercifully it was only Adriana and her assistant in the room. Dante wasn’t here, at least not yet. That kind of nagged at me. Why wasn’t he here? What was all that about having to impress him if he wasn’t even going to show up? I was such a jumble of nerves that I didn’t fully know if I was upset at him or not.
Focus, Autumn!
Adriana introduced her assistant, then motioned for me to stand in front of the camera while she turned it on. “So the first thing we’re going to do test the outfit. We want to show the director how your character looks on camera. Take your time.” Her assistant held up a piece of paper with my name and measurements, which made me feel a little like a side of beef that was being sold an auction. “State your name and when you feel comfortable you can go ahead—”
All eyes snapped to the noiselessly opening door. I glanced away. Crap! Dante was here after all! So much for feeling comfortable.
The thought of Dante watching me read my surprisingly intimate monologue made me cringe. The man has seen you naked and you’re worried about emoting your fake feelings around him?
“My apologies,” came a refined British accent. Dante was dark and mysterious, but he was definitely American. Who I saw when I turned toward the door turned my insides into knotted rope. Jason Brenner’s easy, almost aloof smile greeted everyone in the room.