by Theresa Alan
Chelsey: “How long will it take before the agent sells it?”
Ana: “I don’t know.”
Jason: “When will it be in bookstores?”
Ana: “I don’t know.”
Scott: “Will you go on a book tour?”
Ramiro: “I don’t know.”
When the theater opened, Jason left to join Nick in the audience, and the other five ran backstage.
As they waited for the theater to fill in, all of Ana’s excitement for Ramiro disappeared. Out of nowhere she started to feel a cold dull ache in her chest. She knew this feeling of anxiety well, she just didn’t know why it was hitting her now.
Ana didn’t understand how her feelings could surge and plunge in seconds flat. Was everyone as moody and emotional as she was, or had all her training as an actor to be in constant touch with her emotions made her insanely unbalanced?
Shake it off, shake it off, she told herself. Why am I feeling like this? Maybe because Ramiro is on his way to being published? Marin is on a TV series? And where am I? Left behind.
Ana felt suddenly adrift. Since she and Scott had gotten together, she hadn’t focused much on how she was going to accomplish her dreams. For her New Year’s resolutions, she’d vowed to lose weight, work out more, and get more sleep. She hadn’t put a single thing on there about her career. Maybe she’d been so career-driven before she and Scott got together because she’d had nothing else to spend her free time doing. Or maybe since the show, she knew she could work her ass off and still get nowhere.
It wasn’t too late to amend her resolutions. She would write more comedy, practice stand-up, maybe even take some voice and acting lessons....
It was her cue to run on stage and be introduced along with the other performers. For the next several scenes, she was able to stop thinking about her career and her future, but the uneasy feeling didn’t subside.
Toward the end of the show, Ana was beginning to feel physically and mentally tired from all that was expected on stage. Then when Scott, the emcee for the night, called out that he needed two actors, it was her and Marin’s turn to get onstage. Scott turned to the audience. “What is the relationship between these two women?”
“Sisters!” was the first thing he heard.
“Ana and Marin, you’re sisters. Actors begin!” He ran offstage.
“You’re just jealous,” was the first thing Marin said. It took Ana aback. If that was the first thing Marin had thought, Ana must not be doing a good job masking her real-life jealousy. Ana felt suddenly vulnerable.
“I am not. It’s just not fair. You never work for anything and everything gets handed to you on a silver platter.”
“Oh, boo-hoo, so life’s not fair, big deal, news at eleven. Anyway, it is fair.”
“No it’s not. John was going to ask me to the prom, and then you stole him away from me.”
“Whatever. John asked me because I’m gorgeous and you’re a fat ass.”
Ana inhaled sharply. She felt like Marin had reached out and slapped her. Ana hated her body enough on her own, she didn’t need Marin to give her a hard time about it, too, even if this was a made up scene. Ana hated the fact that her weight gain was something so public; she wished she could hide it and deal with it on her own. She certainly didn’t want it discussed on stage. “You’re a boyfriend-stealing thief and you know it. Everything always goes your way.”
“Look, it’s not my fault if Mrs. Parsons made me the lead in the play and not you. It’s not my fault I’m bursting with natural talent.”
“You were not the most talented. You were the only one who auditioned who looked the part.”
“I can’t help it if I’m naturally more talented, beautiful, and charming than you.”
And it was true: Marin was just naturally more talented, beautiful, and charming than Ana was, and always would be. There were some things that could be improved and worked on, but there was innate talent and then there was the endless legion of talentless wannabes, and some people could never crawl out of that category. Which group did Ana belong to? Who was she if she didn’t have any talent? She wasn’t a teacher trying to save the world or a talented painter or a gifted writer. She wasn’t thin and beautiful. She wasn’t a wife or mother. She wasn’t good at her job, as The Weasel liked to remind her a thousand times a day. She was just a stressed out, neurotic wreck who always said the wrong thing at the wrong time, who hung around talented creative people so she could pretend she was one of them herself.
Ana had all these grandiose dreams of fame and success. Of entertaining masses of people. Of being beautiful and wealthy and loved by all. But that’s all they’d ever be. Dreams. Fantasies of a different life to make the life she actually led bearable.
That’s what it all came down to. The world was divided into those who dream and those who do, who take their dreams and make them real.
I can’t help it if I’m naturally more talented, beautiful, and charming than you. For six years, Ana had lived in the shadows of a woman who was simply more talented, more beautiful, more charming than she. A woman who both men and women noticed right away, gaped at, stunned by her beauty. Ana was lost in the shadows of Marin’s charm and good looks, upstaged by Marin’s superior comedy and acting skills. And the world was full of Marins. Who was Ana kidding, pretending she could be somebody?
“That’s what you really think of me, isn’t it,” Ana said quietly.
“Absolutely!”
Ana burst into tears.
Ramiro jumped on stage, holding a clipboard. “All right, your auditions for People Who Are Richer and Prettier Than You was excellent, but the director wants to see more action. A fight maybe. Okay, let’s take it from scene two.”
Ana quickly wiped away her tears. “You are such a hussy.”
“What did you call me?”
“Face it, you’re a hussy slut!”
“You bitch!” Marin pounced on Ana. They fell to the ground and starting rolling around with each other. Now that it had been declared just an audition, both Ana and Marin were able to do a better job of pushing aside their real lives and pretending they were auditioning for a part. The audience roared at the physical comedy.
“You’re so fat,” Marin said, “they’ve created a T-shirt just for you that says, ‘Body by Pizza Hut.’ ”
“Uh!” Ana yelled. She untangled herself from Marin’s grasp and ran off stage. Moments later, she came back with something behind her back, a contrite expression on her face. She said in a soft voice, “All this fighting is stupid. We’re sisters. We should love each other.”
Marin looked angrily away. Then she seemed to consider what Ana’s “character” had said, and Marin’s body language softened, until she shrugged, conceding defeat. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Come here, give me a hug.”
When Marin got a little closer, Ana pulled the gallon of water they kept offstage to drink between scenes from behind her back and poured it over Marin’s head. Marin jumped back and gasped.
Ramiro yelled cut. “Good work ladies. You’re both hired!”
With that, Ana and Marin ran off stage.
“What the fuck was that?” Marin hissed. “You know I’ve got a date with Jay tonight. Fuck. My hair is ruined!”
“I’m sorry, it’s just what came into my head. The audience seemed to like it . . .”
“Fuck the audience. What is going on with you?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry. It was just a scene.”
“Bullshit. You meant everything you said out there.”
“Yeah, well so did you. It’s totally uncool of you to bring up my weight in front of everybody. I’m trying to lose weight. You don’t understand what it’s like. You can eat whatever you want. You have no idea how hard it is for me to maintain even this Body by Pizza Hut kind of body.”
“You know I didn’t mean that.”
“If you didn’t mean it, why did you say it?”
“I don’t know, because I
’m an actress, pretending. Gosh, is somebody maybe a little bit sensitive about her weight?”
“Try very sensitive. I know I’ve gained weight. You shouldn’t judge me on something you don’t know anything about. Your body is just like everything else in your life, perfect, without you ever having to do any work for it,” Ana hissed.
“You think I didn’t work for that TV series? I’ve been acting and performing for the last ten years. I’ve worked my butt off to become a good actress.”
“It’s not just the series, Marin. It’s everything. You don’t have to worry about car payments or paying back forty thousand dollars in student loans. You don’t have to work a mind-numbing day job because you don’t have to worry about money. You get to go spend your summers in Europe because Daddy will pay for you to go. And you’re gorgeous, but did you have to do anything to get those looks? Everything has just been handed to you on a silver platter. You have a perfect life.”
“Oh, I have a perfect life, huh? Which is why my parents have never seen us perform and have come to visit me out here only once in the six years I’ve lived here. Of course Dad will pay for me to go to Europe; he’ll do anything to keep me out of his hair. The Explorer, that was his way of pretending to be a good Dad instead of coming out here to visit me. Ana, you don’t know how good you’ve got it. You’re talented—a lot more talented than you know, obviously. You’ve got a mother who thinks you’re the sun and the moon and the sky; she literally bursts with pride every time she talks about you. You’re beautiful, you’ve got a boyfriend who loves you more than anything, you’re twenty-four and you’re already a manager. You’ve got more talent in a single fingernail than most people do in their entire bodies. I can’t help it that the casting director was looking for a slim blond. It was a great experience. I’m very, very lucky, I know. This business is brutal. Directors and agents are always deciding that your looks are out of style or they think your ear isn’t the right shape for the part. Whatever. You’ve got to build up a thicker skin if you’re going to make it in this business.”
“I know. I know.” Ana blinked, which set her tears rolling down her cheeks again. “That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m not tough enough, I’m not good enough. I’m just kidding myself, thinking I have talent.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you have talent. I remember sitting at the audition for Iron Pyrits freshman year, looking at you, thinking, ‘They’re only going to take one woman, and it’s going to be her.’ ”
“That’s what I thought about you!”
“And then when you got up there and told us those hilarious stories and were doing all these amazing ballet moves, you blew me away. Then when we both made it and I found out you’d never done any acting or comedy or anything, I couldn’t believe it. And don’t forget, Ana, you were only one of two chosen out of thirteen who auditioned to make the main stage of Spur of the Moment where you get paid as an actor. Do you think Steve would have chosen you if you didn’t have any talent?”
Ana shrugged. “Maybe I have some talent. Just not enough.”
“What you don’t have is the courage to really go for it.”
“What! How can you say that? I was the one who thought of putting together the sketch show and got everything together for it.”
“Yeah, but where’s your agent? When are you auditioning for parts in commercials and trying out for plays?”
“That’s really rich, Marin, considering that you’ve never done any of that stuff. You just got picked out of Denver and plunked into TV just like that.”
“I was lucky, I know, but now that I know more about this business, how hard it is, I’m really going to work harder at it. You know what I think? I think you’re just afraid of succeeding,” Marin said.
“That’s ridiculous. No one’s afraid of succeeding.”
“You are. You’re afraid that if you try really hard, you’ll find out maybe you can make it or maybe you can’t, but as long as you’re here in Denver, putting on a few shows here and there without really having to go out there and audition, you’ll never find out for sure whether you have what it takes.”
Ana reeled at the accusation. She had been working her ass off, trying to make it. Hadn’t she?
“Think about your feminist cheerleaders,” Marin continued. “You could learn from them. You cheer everyone else on and support everyone else. You believed in Ramiro so much you cheered about him to all the literary agents in New York until you found him one. You said so many great things about Spur you packed the house and landed me an agent. Why don’t you try cheering yourself on instead of always tearing yourself down and thinking you’re never going to achieve your goals? Why don’t you do all the things you’d tell a friend who wanted to make it as a performer to do? You’ve always said you wanted to try stand-up. Why don’t you do it?”
“Because I’d humiliate myself.”
“Even if you don’t believe you have talent, pretend you do. You know what they say, ‘Fake it till you make it.’ ”
Ana scrunched up her face in confusion. “Who says that?”
Marin shrugged. She was as perplexed as Ana. “You know, ‘they.’ Maybe people in AA or motivational speakers. There are lots of addicts and motivational speakers in L.A. I’m pretty sure there’s a correlation. Anyway, the point is, you just do what actors do. You pretend to be the person you want to be until you actually become that person.”
Scott appeared backstage. “Psst, hey, we need you on stage. The performance is the thing, ladies. Enough with the girly heart-to-heart stuff.”
When he ran back on stage to introduce the next scene, Ana wiped away her snot and tears. She sniffled. “I’m so terrified of being ordinary.”
“You’re not ordinary, Ana. You’re extraordinary.”
“No, you are.”
“No, you are.”
“No, you are.”
“Okay, okay. We’re both amazing women. That’s why we love each other so much.”
Ana nodded.
Marin pulled her close, hugging her tightly. “Let’s get out there,” Marin said.
Later that night Scott was sleeping soundly beside Ana. She couldn’t sleep. She just stared at the ceiling. She headed downstairs to make herself warm milk spiked heavily with whiskey. Not on her diet, no, but diets never took into account insomnia, did they?
Jason was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking Maker’s Mark. It was extremely unusual for him to be drinking hard liquor, even rarer for him to be drinking by himself.
“Can’t sleep either, huh?” Ana said. “Can I have some of that?”
He pushed the bottle over to her. She got a tumbler and filled it with ice. She sat across from him.
“You look pretty glum,” she said.
He nodded. “Yeah. I am.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a failure.”
“Really? How do you figure?”
“What am I doing with my life, Ana? What am I contributing? I read this article today about poverty in Africa. There’s this organization that’s over there helping to teach Africans how to farm and install wells, that sort of thing. The writer interviewed this African farmer, who proudly showed the reporter his farm. He won’t get rich quick, but he won’t go hungry and he’ll be able to afford to send his kids to school, so maybe they’ll have an easier life. I should be over there, helping. Join the Peace Corps or . . . I don’t know what.”
“You don’t think teaching generations of children about how life works is worthwhile? You have, what, at least a hundred kids a year that you teach, right? Times a career of forty or so years. That’s four thousand kids whose lives you’ve touched. And every night when you get on stage and make people laugh, you don’t think that’s something? Teaching people about toxic waste and government excess in an entertaining way? You don’t think that’s a contribution?”
He shrugged.
“Think about Michael Moore. We loved Bowling for Columbine, right? Maybe the document
ary didn’t immediately change the world, but it brought to light some serious issues and made people think about violence in America in a new way. He’s just doing what he loves, making movies, but educating and entertaining as he goes. You don’t need to join the Peace Corps to make a difference. You can’t carry the weight of all of the world’s problems on your shoulders. There is only so much one person can do.”
“That’s not the only thing.”
“What?”
“There’s Marin. Her being with Jay. It’s killing me. She seems so . . . serious about him. She’s been with other guys before, but she was never serious. I could keep believing she would eventually figure out we should be together. I’m realizing now we’re never going to be together. Even if things don’t work out with Jay. We’re just not right for each other. I’m not her type, and I never will be.” He took a long sip of his drink and poured himself another. “And I’m embarrassed that I’m depressed over a stupid crush. There are so many things wrong with this world, and I’ve been feeling sorry for myself over a crush, wallowing in depression for the past three weeks.”
At “crush,” Jason’s voice cracked, as if the weight of his feelings for Marin were truly crushing him. It broke Ana’s heart.
Ana moved her chair so it was right next to his and hugged him. Then she pulled away so she could face him. “I can’t believe you think loving someone is no big deal. Why do you think war and poverty and injustice are so painful? Because people we love die or are injured and their pain is our pain and their loss is our loss. Love is no trifling matter. It’s no small thing. It’s everything.”
Jason looked into her eyes, leaned in, and kissed her.
“What the hell are you doing!” Ana jerked away.
“Sorry, it just came over me.”
Ana didn’t know how to process this. She kept shaking her head, as if she were having a conversation in her head, “What was he thinking?” “I have no idea.” “What was he thinking?” “I have no idea.”
“Maybe it makes sense, you and I being together,” Jason said. “We’ve always been the responsible, grown up members of the group.”