"Tor."
"What, Andre?" Her voice is harsh, and she refuses to turn around. His worry grows.
He takes another step closer to her. Now, he can see that her wet hair is falling out of the array of clips her up-do requires, and that her pink high heels have been abandoned on the porch. "Tor, you're going to make yourself sick." Her shoulders slump slightly. "Get out of the rain and come under the porch, so we can talk." He tries to keep his voice warm and gentle, although there's mingling panic and impatience in it, too. He has never seen Tori like this before. It's scary.
Mechanically, she turns away from the street and walks toward him, unaware of the puddles she walks through.
Once she's underneath the small porch with him, Andre sees that there are goose bumps all over her arms, her fancy silver dress is ruined, and that her eyes are reddened. Without thinking, he takes off his jacket and puts it around her shoulders. Tori doesn't notice the gesture, and her eyes hollowly stare past his shoulder at the road, where cars speed by in the pouring rain.
He expects her to begin explaining why she suddenly left Trina's graduation party to sit outside and stew, but she remains mesmerized by the rain and the road. After a minute of waiting, he puts a finger under chin so she's forced to look at him. "Tori."
Her eyes blink rapidly. "What?" she snaps, pulling away from him.
"Why are you out here?" A bit of frustration leaks into his voice, and the look on Tori's face makes it obvious the irritation doesn't escape her detection.
"To think!" She sinks against the wall and folds her arms across her chest, her eyes focusing on the road once more.
"Why?" Andre forces himself to remain calm. Obviously, yelling at Tori for her behavior, however annoy it is, is not going to get him anywhere. He sits down next to her, careful to leave nearly a foot of space between them and tries to smile at her, although it turns into a grimace.
"Because…" She sighs. "Some stuff has been bugging me."
"Like what?" Andre presses.
She raises her head to the ceiling and closes her eyes. "What if…" Andre places a hand on her knee lightly. "What if…I-I'm worried that … suppose that … if…failure!" She finally forces the word out, and when she does her eyes widen in shock and she claps her hand over her mouth as if she's said something forbidden.
Andre removes his hand from her knee and nervously grasps her hand instead. "Tor…"
Failure is something never discussed by the students and teachers of Holly wood Arts. The likeliness of success in harsh Hollywood is nearly nonexistent, but it is all anyone will speak of. Even the teachers, who have all failed to "make it" in the business encourage sky-high dreams without hesitation, although they know from first-hand experience the heart break that is brought upon almost everyone.
"Tori, you are the most talented person I've ever known," Andre says earnestly. "If anyone is going to succeed, it's gonna be you." He studies her eyes in the hopes that he'll see a hint of trust in him, but her pupils remain dilated with fear and the lines in her forehead don't disappear.
"It isn't all about talent," she says like a sulky child, disappointed her parents won't agree with her argument.
""Well, yeah, there are other things. Ambition, hard work, charisma…and you have all of those things." Andre pats her wrist.
"But can you have all those things and still fail, can't you?" Tori muses. "You can want it so badly, and work so hard, and have all the ability you need and more, and still end up a bitter failure." Her mouth twitches, almost as if she wants to laugh.
"Don't be morbid. Why are you thinking like this tonight?"
"I don't know." The harshness on her face morphs into vulnerability, and Andre begins to feel empathy. "I guess between that audition I have tomorrow for that television show and Trina graduating and talking 'bout her future, I've just had a lot of stuff to think about…Does it scare you, Andre?"
"Does what?" He asks, although he knows exactly what Tori means.
"Failing."
He tenses. "Yeah, it does. A lot." The words pour rapidly out of his mouth the longer he speaks. "I try not to think about it, but I can't control all my thoughts, y'know? All I know is that I have to get a record deal once I graduate, or a scholarship to someplace for college. I'm no good at math or science; I have no shot at an academic scholarship. And Grandma's treatments for schizophrenia are so expensive that we can hardly afford anything else. I just have to succeed."
"But what will you do if you fail, Andre?"
"Tori – "
"I would just die inside," she says without waiting for his answer. "It'd be gradual, of course, but after so many auditions with no call backs, and so many records saying 'no,' and the credit card bills piling up in my cheap apartment, I'd just collapse." Her face is almost serene as she speaks, and Andre can tell the idea fascinates her, even if it horrifies as well. "And then I'd have to give up my dream and admit that I'm good, but not good enough. Good, but not good enough."
"Tori." His voice trembles imperceptibly.
"Can you imagine that, Andre? You're good – everyone tells you so – but it's not enough. Others are better."
"Tori."
"Can you imagine the talent agents or casting directors shaking their head and saying, 'Sorry, not good enough,' and your heart breaking? Can you, Andre?"
"Tori! Are you incapable of shutting up?"
"Sorry…"
"And yes, I can. I told you that failure scares me and that I can see it happening, what else do you want?"
She shrugs and looks away.
Upset with himself and Tori, Andre stands up to return to the part. Tori, however, grasps his hand and whispers without meeting his eyes, "Please don't leave me out here alone."
He blinks at her, but sits back down.
"I'm just so scared. I'm scared of myself, of these thoughts."
"I know," Andre whispers hoarsely. "But we'll always have each other, alright? You're my best friend."
Finally, she smiles.
Slightly.