Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I get that she means well, but somehow it hurts worse to know I was the top choice and my behavior at the club with Leila is the only reason I’m not going to get this job. Part of the point of dating Leila was to fix my reputation. If it weren’t for Friday night, I would’ve gotten the part today. It has been more than six months since my last negative magazine article.
“Thank you for your consideration,” I say, my voice glum.
The producer frowns. “I really am sorry. Please, have your agent keep an eye on our studio. We’re big fans. Once you’ve hit that six-month mark, we want you.”
“Thanks. I’ll be sure to let him know.”
I leave the script on the table and walk out feeling disappointed, my shoulders slumped. A few more guys are waiting to read for this part or maybe others that are coming up in the same show, and I push through the door without looking at them. I bet they don’t have a picture of them pressing some random guy against a wall that will stand in the way of an important part.
When I get outside, I’m tempted to kick something or punch a wall, but that’s the last thing I need right now. There are bound to be photographers around, desperate for another photo of me screwing up.
That’s all I can seem to do these days.
I send Randy a quick text about what happened and asking for more auditions. As I’m writing it, I get a message from Leila asking me how the audition went. I ignore it and turn the phone off. I’m not in the mood to talk with anyone else.
I slip my phone in my pocket, start walking, and make it to the park where I met Leila a couple of months ago. Back then, I wore a hat and sunglasses to keep myself incognito. I don’t bother with that today. I don’t care if anyone sees me. If anything, it’d be a good thing for me to be seen innocently walking through a park. No one can paint that in a bad light.
I still can’t believe one bad photo means I can’t have the part in the TV show. I get they have their morality clause, but come on? It was one photo taken out of context. Of course, it wasn’t entirely true that I was protecting Leila. She told me she didn’t need any help, and looking at the pictures, that guy wasn’t a threat. I went off the rails for no reason.
I kick a rock on the paved ground. Why can’t I just be like Leila, who somehow stays calm even when she’s freaking out? The only time I’ve seen anything remotely close to panic was when she was having an actual panic attack, and even then she used her coping mechanisms to calm herself down.
I need to learn her ways. If I don’t, I could lose out on more parts, and then I’ll be the washed-up actor people already think I am.
I do laps in the park until the sun starts to set. I’m not sure if anyone took pictures of me, and just walking and thinking has done wonders for my brain. I’m exhausted and hungry, so I grab a hotdog from a street vendor and start walking back to the studio where I had my audition.
Once I’m in my car, I turn my phone back on. I have one message from Randy saying he’ll see what he can do about auditions, and then four messages and a missed call from Leila.
I feel bad that I haven’t spoken to her all day. Her messages say she’s worried about me, and then that she knows I’m okay, but just to text her when I can if I want to talk.
Instead of texting, I give her a call.
“Oh, thank goodness,” she answers, relief in her voice. “When you didn’t answer all day I looked you up online and saw some pictures of you walking in the park. Is everything okay?”
I tell her about the audition and what the producer said.
“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry. That sucks that they didn’t give you the part. I feel like it’s my fault.”
“No, not at all. I’m the one with a short fuse. I need to work on it. There’s a good chance they’ll hire me in the future as long as I stay out of the negative headlines for six months.”
“You can do it. I’ll help as best I can.”
“I appreciate it, but I think this is something I need to focus on myself. I got into this mess. I didn’t think my actions would have this many consequences.”
“It’s a learning process, right?”
I laugh. “Yeah, it is.”
“Do you want to get dinner or something?”
“I’m on very little sleep, and I just ate a hot dog. How about tomorrow night?”