Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine.
"All growth is a leap in the dark; a spontaneous, unpremeditated act without benefit of experience."
~ Henry Miller ~
"Welcome to the filming of Californian Princess!" An unseen voice booms over a speaker. "I've got a few words for y'all. First of all: congratulations! Y'all know only a select twenty people were chosen to watch this season finale be taped. The names were chosen through a random drawing of the people who applied to get in here. Secondly, I got to say I'm excited to have y'all here." At this point, the owner of the voice walks out into the middle of the auditorium, right in from of the set. He's a round, balding man dressed in baggy carpenter jeans and a golf polo. I don't glance over at my best friend, Alice Brandon, to see her reaction to this fashion disaster.
"We've got a very exciting show lined up for you tonight!" An applause erupts through the crowd. The man waits for it to die down before continuing. "I'm just going to have to ask y'all of a few favors. I need cooperation. Remember: we are filming this. There will be mess ups. No booing for forgotten lines or screaming when the actors come on stage. If y'all use your common sense and are polite, we should be able to do this again. Hopefully, y'all are gonna have a fun time tonight!" More applause sweeps through the crowded bleachers. I'm perched on the second-to-top row next to Alice. Despite her small size, she's a major contributor to the loud cheers of agreement. I'm cringing; I don't do well with noise. I knew it would be loud, but Alice literally got down on her knees to beg me to attend. She was excited to have won seats to watch the finale of her favorite soap opera. She's made me watch it before, and I honestly think that it's melodramatic and stupid. Still, no one can resist Alice and she knows it. And she never turns down an opportunity take advantage of being irresistible, either.
"You get to meet Mike Newton." she had teased. I'd simply glared; it was common knowledge that out of all of the characters of Californian Princess, Christopher Bhen—played by Mike Newton—was my least favorite. Not only was his character extremely obnoxious—constantly dressed in leather and calling women 'babes'—but his acting skills were terrible. He sounded as if he were reading lines he'd never seen before off of note cards.
I don't know how, but she'd somehow convinced me to come. I get more nervous as the announcer man continues his speech.
"This episode, we're gonna need a special guest. Just a few lines, we'll need from you. We'll tell y'all when we need her—yes, her. We need a woman to play this part." A few deep sighs punctuate that sentence, "And we'll tell y'all how she'll be chosen. It's completely fair and random.
"Now that that's said..." he walks closer to the audience, "Here's the start of Californian Princess!"
Another cheer collects through the audience. I join in this time—best look respectful. Maybe if I'm good, God will prevent me from being 'randomly' chosen. I tell myself that the possibility is impossible; I'm never chosen for anything.
Before I can ponder longer, a lone man walks into the kitchen set. He has long, wavy hair and is wearing an unbearably preppy outfit. He's holding an old version of the Sidekick to his ear, nodding.
"I understand perfectly, sir. I'll find her. Just give me a-" he breaks off, listening again. The audience around me is leaning forward slightly. "Got it. I'll call you." He presses a button on his phone and slips it into his roomy back pocket.
"Janet!" he calls, making his way towards the stairs. "Janet! Your father is looking for you!" As he starts climbing up the fancy staircase, a girl walks down them. Her hair is in crazy curlers and was clad in only a pink bathrobe. Laughter breaks out through the audience.
"What's he want?" she asks, her voice natural as if she walks down stairs barely clothed everyday.
"He wants to talk to you..." The preppy guy's voice is hesitant, slight pauses between every word. He's startled by her appearance.
"About?" She crosses her arms, leaning against the stair railing. Men that I hadn't noticed before—one with a massive camera, another with a long microphone, and one just standing there—are close by. The microphone is hovering over the two actor's heads.
"I think it's best he tells you himself."
"Lionel! What's going on?" She's angry now. She takes a few steps up stairs threateningly, "It's early in the morning. I'm going back to bed if you don't tell—"
"Sorry, sorry." Lionel jumps in to say. "I'll tell you. Just … sit down for me?"
"I don't have to do anything." She's sticking her nose in the air arrogantly. If I remember correctly, Janet is as stuck-up as she is perfect. During the first episode (which Alice made me watch), she's the most popular girl in school. She was a cheerleader and girlfriend to the jerky captain of the football team. That all changed during the beginning of the second episode, when Janet's absent father arrives in town to tell Janet that she's a princess. Hearing this, her ego soars even higher. She makes the show almost unbearable to watch—she's the girl all fans love to hate.
"Fine." Lionel mutters. I haven't been forced to watch in a few weeks, and I don't know his character. Judging by the conversation he'd had with Janet's father—the king of a small European country—on the phone, he was some kind of assistant. "Well, Janet..."
When he doesn't say anything right away, Janet snaps, "Yes? What is it?"
He's staring at the floor uncertainly, taking great interest in his shoelaces. "Um … Janet. Your family … they've lost power." He pauses to let her take that in. The audience around me gasps. "You're … you're no longer royalty."
Janet holds her hand to her forehead and opens her mouth to speak. No sounds escape it. "I—I..." Her blue eyes are huge and round. "I … I forget my line."
Alice groans quietly. She's never been the most patient person on the planet, and she's totally unused to not knowing things. It's killing her that she doesn't know how the episode—or even Janet's sentence—will end.
The camera men set down their appliances and 'Lionel' says, "It's all right, Rose. You don't say anything. You're supposed to fall. Like you're fainting. Em's over there," he points to the muscular man with brown, curly hair without any supplies at the foot of the stairs, "he'll catch you."
She looks thankful, "Thanks, James." Her voice is a shock through my body. I know she was only acting before, but her tone is so different than the one she was using only a few seconds before. It's startling.
"Alright." the camera and microphone men are ready, "Take two!"
"Um … Janet. Your family … they've lost power." Janet's eyes are huge as she absorbs this, her face wiped clean of it's superior expression. "You're no longer royalty."
She takes in a few gasps of air like she wants to talk before her eyes shutter closed and she falls into muscle-man's arms.
A huge intake of air plagues the audience, even though they all knew it was coming.
A few scenes and about two hours later, we're taking a lunch break. I'm still not interested in Californian Princess. The episode today is dramatic, I suppose, but overly dramatic. Janet is still unsure of why the family is being kicked off the throne. Her father has traveled back to his ex-country to do damage control and to try to gain back power.
I just want to go home. Alice is yanking so hard on my arm that I'm pretty sure she's going to pull it straight out of its socket, and I'm tired of snooty princesses and hot "high-school" boys who've actually graduated five years ago.
"Bella! You should be so totally excited right now!" Alice squeals in her high-pitched voice. "Why aren't you excited?"
I sigh. Trying to explain these things to Alice is useless. I try anyway. "Alice … this is not my scene, okay? I just … alright, this show sucks." I spit out. "It's awful."
She gasps as if I'd just announced something Earth-shattering, "Never say that again!" she scolds me. "This show doesn't suck!"
"It's so melodramatic! It's like … what's the point? The acting is terrible for the most part. The story plot line is dry. The characters are annoying. The script is clichéd."
This time, Alice doesn't respond. Her eyes are fixed on something behind me. They're weird; almost panicked. I don't want to turn to see what she's staring at.
Too late. When I hear a voice saying, "So … it's nice to know what the fans think.", I spin on my heels.
Standing behind me is the most beautiful man I've ever seen. His eyes are piercingly green. He's tall. He's not out of shape, but he's not muscular. He's more lanky than athletic. On most men, lack of muscle looks awkward. Not on him. He looks totally perfect; like some kind of God or angel. His face could be carved out of stone in its perfection. When I take the time to examine his green eyes closely enough, I see that they're full of humor. I internally sigh in relief; at least he's not mad about my comment. Although, why should he be mad? It's not like he's been in the show. Although the 'the fans' comment throws me off...
Still, my words come out stuttered and defensive, "Uh … um … hi. I didn't really … uh … mean-"
Seeing my distress, the perfect man saves me. He laughs, "No need to defend yourself. I agree. And I'm in the thing."
It takes me a moment to respond, "Uh … really, now? I didn't see you..."
"Well," he explains, "I'm nothing major this season. Just a little side character. I was in the first few episodes. Janet's boyfriend." I remember his face finally. His character is a complete ass, and he plays it well. It was difficult to recognize him without all of the football padding or the blue baseball cap that's become his trademark. He dumped Janet sometime during the forth or fifth episode. Ever since, he's only been shown doing stupid, reckless things that somehow mess up someone's life. "Or, Janet's ex." he laughs.
"Right." I say. I remember; I don't even know this gorgeous stranger's name. "I'm—uh—Bella."
"Bella ... beautiful." I stare at him in shock for a moment; who is this man? "In Italian." he clarifies, knocking my soaring heart to the ground harshly. "I'm-"
"Cullen!" I hear a scream. The beauty who plays Janet is running towards us. "What the hell are you doing? They need you back stage. Now" she growls this last word.
"Ah, Rosalie." he mutters fondly under his breath. "Coming!" he calls louder. Rosalie glares at him for good measure before turning on her red stiletto heels and jogging back in the direction from which she'd come.
"See you later, maybe, Bella." the man (Cullen?) who I'd been talking to says. Before I can even ask for his name, he turns to follow Rosalie.
I'm still staring in shock after him long after he leaves. Alice knocks me out of it with her high scream.
"Omigosh! I can't believe we just met Edward Cullen! Omigosh! Omigosh!" She's bouncing up and down.
I turn to face her. "Edward Cullen?" I ask. "That's his name?" I need to know. I try to sound nonchalant. She confirms my question with a quick nod of her head and some more squealing. She talks about him all through lunch (after we buy and sit down.) According to Alice (who is always right), Edward's merely a rising star. He wasn't even on Hollywood's radar until he was chosen for his role in Californian Princess. Now, he's on the wish list of several highly anticipated movies. The word is he's going to get a big role in the forth Harry Potter movie. I can't believe I just had a conversation with him.
Neither can Alice, "I don't believe he was just talking to you! You're so lucky." I raise an eyebrow at her. She quickly says, "Not that I don't love Jazz. Because you know I do. But still … Edward Cullen!"
Our conversation eventually strays from the subject of Edward and onto more normal issues. Do I think that Jasper—Alice's boyfriend of two years—is planning to propose soon? I tell her I hope so, although I know that he's planning on doing it next week. He even asked me to help pick out a ring with him, something I'd agreed to do happily. Do I want to spend the night with her and her mother Esme watching old movies and painting each other's nails? I laugh and agree. Alice, Esme, and I always have fun on our girl's nights. Whenever Esme's husband Carlisle is out of town, us girls get together at Esme's big mansion in upstate New York. We continue with our trivial chatter all the way back to our bleacher seats. We're some of the last ones to be seated. Only about a minute after we arrive, the announcer from earlier—who Alice had told me was the man who had organized the event—came up on the set.
"Welcome to the second—and final—portion of today's show. We only have around half an hour worth of show time left to record. It'll take us a good few hours again to tape it. So sit back! Relax! Behave." He adds the last bit as an afterthought.
A small smattering of applause comes after these words, and the man leaves the stage. The actors come back on stage and start the second part. I hardly pay any attention. My mind is elsewhere.
I really wish I hadn't acted like such a dunce when I'd been talking to Edward before. I know that I'm not going to talk to him again. He's a famous actor, for God's sake! Now that I think of it, I can't even think up a valid reason he'd be talking to me in the first place. I don't even like his show. Then again, neither does he.
"We have something in common." my brain sighs dreamily.
"Gahh! Shut up." I tell it quietly. Alice turns to look at me. I smile innocently, and she turns back to the show.
Distracting myself from my thoughts, I turn back to the stage. Janet is arguing with Lionel in the school set. I groan on the inside before sucking it up and paying attention.
"But I don't wanna be back at school! It's so embarrassing." Janet complains, "Like, I'm not a princess anymore! My life is over!" She sounds hysterical.
I'm saved by the most wonderful man in the world.
I see him walking up the side of the bleachers carefully.
I'm honestly ready to jump out of my seat to kiss him.
"Free drinks! Who wants a free drink?" the man yells. I don't actually know him, but I kind of guessed his 'profession' by the large tray of smoothies he was carrying. Smoothies were the perfect distraction.
I raise up my hand for a drink. After reaching my row, the guy picks out the last remaining pink smoothie and carelessly throws it at me. I'm lucky he doesn't spill the delicious drink all over my pretty blue sun dress. According to Alice, the dress she bought me for this occasion is very expensive and designer. She says that it looks "beautiful" on me and I "should wear real clothes more often". When I tried to argue that I wore real clothes, she told me that jeans and old tee shirts weren't clothing. After this point, I gave up. Alice is simply hopeless when it comes to convenient fashion.
I raise the smoothie's straw to my lips, anticipating great, rich flavor. I suck it up greedily.
And I nearly gag. The thing is awful. I've had better McFlurries at the Golden Arch! There are gross chunks of ice and flavoring that I can taste.
You'd think that a famous show like this could afford some real smoothies.
Giving up on my drink shortly thereafter, I turn back to the show and—after finding no cup holders—rest the smoothie on my cotton-clad thigh.
When I pay attention to what's going on, I'm shocked. Edward is on stage! My heart starts beating really fast.
I don't really understand why. I know it has to do with attraction, but love is foreign territory to me. Alice has always been that girl. The girl who always has a boyfriend, who goes to all the cool parties, who has the popular kids as friends. I've always been her shadow. Silently following in her tracks. No one noticed me, not really. I was the antisocial one who had to be dragged to all the parties that Alice was so eager to attend. I know all I know of love—which isn't much—through Alice. In a way, I've lived my entire life through Alice.
So I have no idea what I'm feeling. I'm mostly just confused.
To make matters worse, I hear the poetic voice from before flow over speakers.
"Uh, excuse me everyone?" He's nervous. It's cute. "Can I just get your attention for a minute?"
After a few seconds, everyone quiets down to watch this gorgeous boy. Is it only me who finds him so attractive? No on else in the audience seems to be so transfixed by him. He waits for a minute before continuing on with his little speech.
"Thanks. Well … like Andie over there said before," he jerks his head in the direction of the very well-dressed (note the sarcasm) man who had been talking before, "we're in need of a young actress. I'm pretty sure Barnie gave all of you guys smoothies?"
He took a minute to let his beautiful eyes scan the crowd.
"Right … everyone seems to have one. Which is good. Listen to these directions:" he waits a moment as if giving the words time to sink in. "hold your smooth above your head." Everyone in the audience does this. I sit still, looking at them. It looks pretty stupid—two dozen people holding multi-colored smoothies overhead. "On one of these cups," he continues, "there is a sticker. The sticker is supposed to be on the bottom. If you've got the sticker-cup, you're our guest star."
Anticipating the next question, he adds, "If you're a guy and you've the the sticker, give your drink to a lady. If you've got the sticker and don't want the part, well … give the cup to a friend nearby before we notice. If we see you've got it, you're going up." he laughs and smiles, "Now … who's got the sticker?"
"Not freaking me! I demand a redo!" A woman's voice comes.
"Yeah! I was going to pick a different one! It was probably the sticker piece!"
"This is the stupidest idea in the world!"
"THIS IS FIXED! I WANT TO BE ON STAGE!"
"Don't say anything," Edward says sternly, "unless you're the one."
"Bella." Alice hisses, "Check your cup! I don't have it. Neither does anyone else, apparently."
I glare at her for a second. She's still staring at me; waiting. I roll my eyes and flip my cup over to see the bottom.
Bad idea.
Especially when you haven't drunk everything in the cup.
Who knew gravity could be so cruel?
Pink smoothie slides smoothly out of my cup. It douses the shirt of the pretty girl sitting in front of me. She screams and stands up. The smoothie goes on from there, smacking into the bleacher row's 'floor' and splattering up. The bottoms of that row's pants are probably all pink. I wouldn't know, as I'm staring down at my feet. My clean, clean feet.
To top off all of this, I take a hesitant glance at the bottom of the cup.
It's as empty as the inside of the cup now is.
"Aww, Bella." Alice groans, "Look at what you did!"
"I blame you." I mutter. After seeing the cup's bottom, I had sprung forward with the napkins that people had thrown at me after the fall. I was mopping the floor with dirty, used napkins.
"No one?" a voice straining towards laughter booms over the intercom, "No one has it at all?"
More mutters.
"Alright..."
"Excuse me!" a man from the bleachers calls. I'm ready to die; I'm already having a bad enough day. I don't need to hear a man plead to be on the stupid show.
"Yeah?" Edward's voice is weary. We're both expecting the same thing from this man. I don't see the guy, as I'm still on my hands and knees.
I nearly fall over when I hear what he has to say.
"This girl right here … she's got the ticket, you know." he says. The two people sitting on either side of the smoothie-pile turn to look at each other. The man sitting in front of the smoothie-pile turns to look at the back wall. Everyone else in the bleachers turns to stare at weird angels.
Eventually, I catch on to an awkward mood. I look up.
"Every one is looking at you!" Alice hisses a few moments after I realize it for myself.
Thanks, Alice. I want to say. But I don't. Because that would be rude. And I can't be rude when twenty people are staring at me, now, can I?
"I don't have it." I instead announced. I help up my cup in proof. The bottom was still bare.
"She's right." someone said. "Hers is as empty as everyone else's."
"Nah, shes got it." the same man who brought up the subject said. "She's got the certificate or whatever stuck on her dress."
I look down. Sure enough, there's a sticker on my thigh. Suddenly, this dress isn't as pretty anymore. When I flip it over, it screams in big, red letters 'Lucky WINNER!'.
"Uh … he's right." I'm forced to say. The sticker must have rubbed off when I set down my drink on my leg.
"A winner!" Edward announces gratefully, "C'mon down, miss!" When I stand up, his polite grin turns on to a full-blown smile. I wonder why.
I'm regretting choosing to sit at a top row. I have to step over people to get down. I'm not exactly the most coordinated person (as demonstrated by the drink spillage) so I'm having a hard time not stomping on anyone with my dangerous shoes. For some reason, Alice thought it would be smart to dress me in heels. Or wedges, as she says. I don't understand the difference, but apparently wedges are easier to walk in. However, the wedges she has given me (with their four inch heels) aren't exactly the sneakers or flip flops I'm used to. I'm lucky I don't fall over in the watchful eyes of the entire audience. However, I can't honestly say that I didn't give anyone an eyeful of my panties from under my short dress.
Two minutes and nine stepped-on toes later, I get to the bottom of the stairs. I thank God I'm still in one piece. I feel eyes burning through my back as I walk up to the stage. I don't care about them when my eyes meet Edward's. He's still standing on set with the microphone. He's also still looking straight at me. When my eyes meet his, he won't let mine go until I'm mere feet away.
"Uh … hey, again." I say.
"Hey again." he smiles, "Are you excited to be on our cliché, melodramatic show?" he (thankfully) says this away from the microphone.
I just glare at him anyways. He understands that I'm joking and says into the microphone, "I'm just going to need to borrow Bella here for a few minutes to explain what we need from her. Just hang tight!"
Without another word, he sets the device back into its stand and tows me by the hand to the back of the set, and then out the "front door".
"The door serves a double purpose," he explains, "It looks nice when we're filming, because we need front doors in houses. But back here we've got all our backstage stuff."
Backstage stuff indeed, I think. Right out the door, there's a green screen. I'm assuming they replace it with a picture of the neighborhood when the door's open. Walking to the right a bit is an entire different world than the one I was just in.
It's loud. That's the first thing I'm noticing. The whole cast is sitting around in chairs. Beautiful men and women are artfully decorating each cast member. When Edward and I come into sight, one of the men jerks his chin towards me.
"Is this our girl?" he asks. Edward nods. Without another word, the guy tugs me away. I stare back at Edward slightly alarmed, but he shakes his head smiling slightly. I don't know why, but I trust that there's nothing wrong when Edward tells me.
I'm pushed into a fluffy black chair that sits in front of a large mirror. Light bulbs decorate the outside. I see another woman creep up behind me in the mirror. She begins tugging and pulling at my hair. The guy steps in front of me with his makeup pallet and starts painting my face.
It makes me feel self-conscious to have two people working over me like this; like I need to be beautified so badly. It's like Bella Barbie with Alice all over again.
I feel even more violated when I feel someone pull the straps of my dress down. I flip my head back to find another man holding an outfit of jeans and a t-shirt. He doesn't notice that I'm looking at him and he continues to try to undress me.
"Excuse me?" I say, glaring at him a bit.
He doesn't answer, just rolling his eyes at my bratty tone. I can't look at him anymore, because with an annoyed sigh, my makeup artist yanks my chin back facing him and returns to decorating me.
"What're you doing?" I ask, trying a different voice. He seemingly finds it more polite.
"Dressing yew." He says, "You've a'gotta be changed."
With that, he somehow manages to dress me around the two beauty professionals working on me.
"Talk about quick-change..." I mutter under my breath four minutes later. I'm standing in front of a large mirror. My face is made-up to perfection and my hair is perfectly styled to look messy. It's long a flowy, pieces strewn all over. I'm wearing tight distressed jeans. They were probably hundreds of dollars. On my top half is this vintage-looking tee shirt. It's also really tight. I look kind of slutty, but good, too. Basically, I look like the kind of girl who you instantly hate, just because of how inferior you feel standing next to her. I have a hard time believing I'm her.
Thankfully, I don't have much more time to think about that. Another, more official-looking man pulls me away and sits me down on a sofa in the middle of the room. There's not much room for me as the couch is littered with discarded clothing, and I'm forced to sit on top of several pairs of jeans. The rest of the show's cast sits around us.
"What's your name, child?" the guy asks me. He's unusually tall, and equally as wide. He's just wearing a tee shirt now, but I can tell if he was wearing a business suit, the buttons would be straining to keep shut. The guy's obviously used to a rather luxurious lifestyle. He quickly tells me his name is Mr. Slater.
"Bella."
"Bella. Alright, Bella. You see, this whole thing," he waves his hand towards the direction of the unseen audience, "is like a … a contest, really. You know how in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, the winners of the tickets got to visit the chocolate factory?" I nod when it becomes apparent that he isn't going to continue without my participation. "Well, that's what this is. We gave out random smoothies with one sticker … ticket, even. So you're our new cast member. Congrats!"
I don't say anything.
"Well," he doesn't notice my lack of enthusiasm, "remember Sarah?"
"No." I finally say.
"Oh, well. She's Janet's cousin. From Europe. They talk about her a lot... She was originally going to be just a character that was talked about and never met. But we decided that we wanted to bring her into the show. This" he waved his hand towards the invisible audience again, "was the best idea we could think of. So Bella … you are our new Sarah!"
A light cheer breaks out throughout the show's cast. I hadn't really noticed until now, but they're all either gathered around me and Mr. Slater, or turning us an ear while they are being made-up.
"This is the first episode we need you in, but you'll be in all next season. If you want to be. So … what do you say, Bella?" Mr. Slater continues.
"Well..." I'm confused. I kind of want to be in the show. I don't have a job right now. I'm looking for one, but with today's crappy economy, no one is hiring. I feel so lousy bumming off of Alice all the time; we're room mates in a cute little condo. She pays the entire rent. Also, I'd love to work with Edward...
"I need time to think this over." I tell the guy. "This is an amazing offer, of course. I'd love to work with you. But I think you understand that I can't commit to such a consuming job without any thought..." I don't know what I'm saying anymore.
"Understood. You still have a few months after today until we go back on air."
I breathe out a breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding in. "Thanks."
He goes on to explain what he wants from me today. Basically, I'm playing Janet's skanky cousin, Sarah. She manages to steal Janet's old boyfriend in this first episode. I'm apparently supposed to be a total bitch.
"Just improvise." the man tells me. "Since you don't have any former experience with acting, improv is going to sound most natural."
I don't know how they mange to get me on stage. But they do. I'm a nervous wreck. I hate being in front of crowds. Even though this is a small crowd, there are still people watching me.
"WHOO, BELLA!" I can hear Alice scream.
I'm going to kill that girl.
"C'mere, Bella." Edward says quietly, holding my hand to walk over to the kitchen part of the set. I nearly faint.
"And—go!" The camera man says once we're settled. An unapproachable, mean expression takes over Edward's face. I adopt a stuck-up look.
We're leaning against the counters next to each other, our hands still intertwined when Rosalie walks in.
She looks surprised, "Sarah! When did you get here?" she doesn't sound pleased.
"What, you're not happy to see me?" I'm shocked by the venom in my voice. So is Janet.
"No, no, of course I am! I'm just … so happy to see you!" She rushes over to hug me. I don't return the embrace.
"Right." I say when she lets go. I'm looking at her carefully; like she's that squid I had to dissect in high school. Like I'm grossed out, but I have to look.
"What … what brings you here? And … him?" She's glaring at Edward now.
"I'm with her." Edward explains. He still somehow manages to sound like a jerk in three words. I'm jealous; I can so totally see why he's being cast in Harry Potter. He's a great actor.
"Why?"
"Because … well. You two broke up, didn't you? So he was only free..." I trailed off.
It took a moment for recognition to dawn on Rosalie's face. "Wait … no! With with?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"I mean … you can't date him!" she points at Edward, "He's just … just … mine! He's always been mine."
"Really, Janet?" Edward asks sarcastically, "Always been yours? Isn't that just a bit … melodramatic?" he glances at me when he says this. I laugh scornfully.
"You're just losing everything, aren't you?"
Rosalie's eyes are huge, "Don't. Don't even say it, Sarah."
"Say what?" I'm smiling a very sinister smile. "Say that you've lost everything you've relied on your entire life—your boyfriend, your country … and you've lost them both to me."
"End scene!" the camera guy says.
"Good job, Bella." Edward and Rosalie say slightly staggered.
Back into Bella's skin, I thank them while blushing. My magic confidence has quickly departed along with the little red 'recording' light of the camera.
I follow the guys towards back stage. I'm immediately approached by the big guy from before.
"Great job. I like how you added that last line at the end … it didn't fit with the original plot, but I think it gave me some new ideas. I really don't think we're gonna have to re-tape that part. You're not needed for the remaining parts of this episode, but you're welcome to chill back here. I definitely want to talk to you about your career when I'm done here."
He doesn't give me a chance to respond before rushing away, screaming at some lady to "God no, don't put that there!"
The backstage part is slightly busy. I sit down on a sofa alone, just watching the world around me. I like watching these people have their faces painted on. It's amazing how different they look. It's a world that I really, really long to be a part of. The small taste I'd gotten of this world wasn't enough.
I'm distracted from this by a movement in the soft sofa I was sitting on. I turn to the side of the disturbance to find an angel sitting next to me.
"Hey, Edward." I greet as causally as possible. I don't know where this new confidence in myself has come from. All I know is it feels nice.
"Hey, Bella." He's smiling. "You really did a great job. Especially for someone who's never acted before. Mike Newton over there has acted before, and he still sucks." he laughs. Mike Newton didn't even notice his pointing, "Amazing how some people just have natural talent."
I feel warm and fuzzy inside. He thinks I have talent.
"Although, you know. I've been acting much longer than you have," he makes it obvious that he's joking with his teasing smile, "and I think that you could really use some pointers from me … over dinner tomorrow night, I'm thinking."
Laughing, I agree. I laugh to cover up the fact that I've never been asked out before.
Or I have, I suppose. But not formally. Not by a gorgeous movie star. Definitely not by Edward Cullen.
We exchange numbers and I make him promise to call me tonight and tell me what his plans are. Then he as to go up to perform, and I'm staying back here to think.
All I can think is I can't wait to tell Alice all of this.
And I can't wait to tell the producer that I'm most definitely taking the job.
A/N: Review telling me what you think of my story and let me know about a time you found something in the last place you would have expected.