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8th May 1997 (Thursday)
Ricky Stirling (POV)
"Are you okay?" I ask, my voice oozing concern for her.
'Brenda' looks up at me, her eyes and nose puffy from crying. She covers her mouth as she speaks, "I- he told me to pick up the blood, so I did. He never told me to label it."
"Hey, it's all right. Stop crying, please. What's your name?"
"Brenda."
"Brenda, I wouldn't worry about it, you know? These-these doctors, they don't know everything." I said consolingly, as I continued staring into her eyes.
'Brenda', wipes a non-existent tear from her cheeks as she fearfully responds, "It's my first week, I think they're going to fire me."
"No!" I say, shaking my head dismissively, "Nobody will fire you. I'll bet you're pretty good at your job."
She shakes her head vigorously, her face wooden, instead of somber, "No, I'm not."
I exchange a glance with Mr Davenport, both of us shaking our heads a few inches to signal our disapproval for the 'actress' in question… if she can even be called that.
"I'll bet if I asked you to check the status of my friend, Lance Applebaum, you could do that in a second. He hurt his foot tonight." I say with an expecting look.
That's right, I keep the audition going, intent on finishing this scene even though the blonde opposite me is already out of the running.
Partly because if I stopped the audition mid-way, she would realize she messed up, and rejecting people straight to their faces was something both me and Davenport agreed we were uncomfortable with.
Just something about seeing their crestfallen expression, as we dash their hopes of a big break mercilessly, putting the emphasis on their lacking skills… sometimes they would even break out into tears.
Truly a nightmare. And so, we agreed to always keep the scene going, and start drafting the rejection letter after the auditions, to send to their home.
We realized we would still be causing them the same amount of pain, even more, considering they would walk out with expectations that would have to be squashed… but at least we're not there to see it.
It's called living in denial, and frankly it's something nearly everyone does in a variety of different situations.
'Brenda', proceeds to look down with a discerning expression, as she read out, "Mr. Applebaum fractured his ankle. Dr. Ashland is treating him in exam 7."
I spread my arms with faux-wonder as I spoke up, "You see that? No problem!"
We exchange another glance before she looks down, trying to cover the budding smile on her face.
She points towards the clipboard, "This is the emergency chart. See the blue star, that means the patient has been diagnosed. After he's treated, we put a red circle here. See?"
I paid attention to her every word, before diverting to meet her eyes again with a charming demeanor, "How do you like the braces?" I asked.
'Brenda' looked down embarrassed, as her cheeks flushed. "I guess they're okay…"
"I got mine off last year… God, I hated them, they were bottoms." I said, nodding lightly, "I still gotta wear my mouth guard."
"You have really nice teeth."
I smiled, "Well, thank you… And you have a really pretty smile."
'Brenda' tried not to smile, shaking her head and covering her face in a slightly exaggerated manner… good lord does she need some improv skills.
"I mean it, those braces look really good on you." I added, gesturing at her lips.
She smiled, trying not to blush… or well, she 'tried' to try not to blush. In reality, it came off as slightly standoffish, like she was playing hard to get.
Sigh. Nope, I can't continue this.
I signal with my hand to Davenport, and he jerks back up in his seat raising his voice a little, "Aaaaanddddd, SCENE!"
I instantly break character, adopting a blank expression as I proceed to sit next to Davenport, "All right… Fiona. Thank you very much for being here, we'll get back to you via mail. Okay? Good job overall." I praise, half-heartedly.
Seeing her face light up, I instantly regret my last statement.
"Thank you very much Sir… Erm. When can I expect the mail?"
"Sunday latest."
And with that sunny interaction, she left, practically skipping through the door.
Davenport turns a page on his clipboard before speaking, "That was number 25. Now, we skipped over 24 due to tardiness, a characteristic I do not appreciate in the slightest. We've still got 5 more. So buckle in."
"You don't need to tell me twice, Daven, I'm buckled in. Anyways, who have you shortlisted till now?"
"I've got 8, 12 and 22. I felt they were the best out of the bunch."
"Oh… yeah. Same." I replied, not meeting his eyes.
8, 12 and 22… Okay, 12 is out, her face and attitude irked me, and her skills weren't enough to make up for that fact. One glance at her bio, and I instantly knew she would be a fuckin' diva, treating others on the set akin to dirt.
Now we can't have that, can we?
22… I'm hoping for someone better.
As for 8? She's definitely in the running, she had a near flawless take after all, AND she matched the physicality of the character to a tee.
Then again, let's see how the remaining 5 are-
TRING - TRING
TRING - TRING
Davenport picked up the phone, "Yes? Oh-" He noticed my questioning glance and put his palm over the phone's receiver, "24 is here." He said, before continuing the conversation, "She missed her chance Debbie, and frankly we've got people waiting over an hour for their turn to arrive. She was late, now she's gotta deal with the consequences… I don't care how much traffic she was stuck in, or how adamant she is! Just, send her away… Yeah I get she is insisting, but she missed it, and we've still got to keep this rolling! There are still 5 candidates left-" He said, before having the phone snatched from his hands.
"Yes Debbie? Debbie, just send her in. Yeah, no it's fine jus- send her in… I'll talk to Davenport." I finish, ending the call.
Davenport Melton (POV)
What the- DID HE JUST SNATCH THE PHONE FROM MY HANDS?!
"-send her in… I'll talk to Davenport." He said uncaringly… oh you sorry little asshole.
The moment he put the phone down, I exploded, "What the fuck was that?!"
'Ricky' had the audacity to look confused, "What was what? The phone thing? Oh, I'm sorry Daven it's just, in the time it was taking you to try and stop 24, we could've already done the take. Plus… have you looked out? Traffic truly is a bitch and a half today-"
"I don't care! She was late! The allotted time was 15 minutes ago, when she had to present in the waiting area! She wasn't, and everyone else was! It's a process to weed out the unworthy Ricky, and she was late today. What's stopping her from being late every day on set? An uppity little-"
KNOCK - KNOCK
"Come in." Ricky sounded out.
And in she came, number 24 on the list… Charlize Theron.
She was out of breath, sweaty, with strands of hair sticking to her forehead, as she huffed and puffed like a sweaty pig.
Blatantly unpresentable.
Not even putting in basic effort to doll herself up a little, she clearly didn't care about forming a decent first impression.
All the more reason she should be sent back!
I look towards Ricky… only to see his eyes widen slightly, as he froze midway through his action of walking to the mark.
He stares at her for a good 3 seconds, before introducing himself with more energy and enthusiasm than he had shown all day.
"Oh, no need to apologize for the delay, I completely understand. Traffic has bested us all at least a few times in our life, and frankly no-one should be denied opportunities for what I consider LA's fault. I'm Ricky Stirling by the way," He said, reaching out for a handshake that was reciprocated swiftly, "I'm the lead for this movie Miss?"
"Theron. Charlize Theron." She says, still trying to recover her breath but she steamrolls on, "I-I would nevertheless like to apologize for my lack of punctuality, and assure you that it shall never occur henceforth- that is, if I get the role, not that I intend to presume anything Mr. ?" She directed that towards me, clearly assuming I was in charge.
I wish.
"Melton. I'm the casting director, and unfortunately, we still have several more hopefuls waiting outside for their turn so if you don't mind-"
"Of course not Mr. Melton, I would like nothing less than to get started." She reacted, clearly hoping to salvage the situation.
Ricky claps his hand, smiling widely, "Good luck Ms. Theron, hope you can bring out your A game here."
"Oh please, call me Charlize, and I'll certainly try, Mr. Stirling."
"Only if you call me Ricky, and… do I detect a hint of an accent perhaps? South Africa?"
… What the hell is he on about? Wh-What accent?
"Oh! How did you figure That out? Yes, I was born and raised over there, but have been living here for years now. I- I thought I had phased out the accent, but I guess I still need to work on it a little."
"If you get the role, I'm positive we can arrange a dialect coach on set, and we will need one, considering this is a film set in the late 60s. And don't worry, it's not as prominent as you think, as a multi-linguist, I'm just perceptive that way."
Is he by any chance… flirting?
Seeing their back and forth was frustrating enough, but flirting? Oh hell no, not on my watch!
"Ricky… We're on a schedule." I say, pointing at my wristwatch.
"Oh yes, now Charlize, here's the scene," He said, handing her a piece of paper, "Take a minute to familiarize yourself with the dialogue and tone, and then we'll act it out. Clear?"
She snatched the paper with barely a nod directed at Ricky… I suppose that bodes well for her dedication to the role.
Nearly every single woman who's been here succumbed to his charms quickly enough, a few of them blushing so much that I assumed they had slipped into character flawlessly.
Not her though, thank god for it. At least she has a single redeeming quality to combat her bout of tardiness.
Now as for her ability to act, we shall see…
…
"It says I love him, pretty stupid, right? Ringo Starr is never going to read my letter." 'Brenda' says with a downcast expression, as her sense of self-depreciation shines through.
'Frank' steadfastly stares at her, prompting her to smile shyly, as she puts her letter in a drawer.
"Brenda," He said, "Would you by chance know, if they are hiring here at the hospital?"
She glances up at him, a hopeful facade set on her face, with hints of shock, trickled in.
"Scene." I call out perfunctorily.
Ricky transitions back effortlessly, his very demeanor changing back to his own.
"Now that-" He said, clapping loudly as he sat back besides me, "was what I was talking about! The A game I mean. You did great Charlize, fantastic even." He conveyed.
She on the other hand… didn't even spare him a glance, instead focusing her gaze towards me, clearly still under the misconception that I was the deciding factor.
I did not choose to correct her, neither did Ricky.
He simply accepted it all in stride, clearly amused by the situation at hand.
Huh. Someone who isn't wowed by glamor… so driven in her career, that she disregards all unnecessary elements… yeah I can get behind that.
Plus, that was easily one of the best performances I've seen all day.
But she doesn't fit the physical characteristics.
'Brenda' is supposed to be demure, docile, someone who's not ugly by any means, but due to constantly being berated by everyone else, believes she is.
I cannot believe my train of thought right now, but Charlize is too… alluring for the role.
Even in her sweaty disheveled appearance, her facial features and the shape of her bodice… a tad alluring for the role.
Hell, if it was Gallagher in my place, he would've been slobbering all over her, trying to strike a little… 'deal'.
That unsavory pervert… thank god he got dementia last month, essentially ending his career in the industry. Otherwise who knows how many lives he would've ruined in his pursuit of… constantly cheating on his wife.
"Thank you Ms. Theron, you will receive a mail by Sunday latest regarding the status of this audition. I bid you a good day." I forced a smile, before dropping it the next second.
She nodded solemnly before taking her leave, waving a quick bye at Ricky before exiting through the door.
The moment the door closed-
"I want her! As in, for the role… nothing else." He reiterated, daring me to contradict.
Yes Ricky… you made that abundantly clear.
"Don't you think we should audition the remaining 5? They have been waiting for an hour outside."
"Yeah sure. Let's maintain the illusion shall we?" He smiled.
The hypocritical asshole that he was.