Subj: New Fic: Sweet Thing - Chapter 1
Date: 2/2/03 4:22:44 AM Eastern Standard Time
From: SlvrLuna47
To: labfic@yahoogroups.com
To: Jareth_Sarah_Forever@yahoogroups.com
To: Marysia@marysia.com
Finally posting...
Title: Sweet Thing
Author: Aviry Nolane, slvrluna47@aol.com
Rating: Rather PG
Summary: Recipe For One Sweet Thing: One part feisty main character, riddled with emotional holes, add one part authoress tired of emotional crapwittage fluff, mix well, adding chunks of bad humor and hollywood glam. Mix. Destroy.
Keywords: One Evil Sarah
Notes: Hope you like! I have 2 other parts written... which i will distribute to JSF group members to be edited if they voice their wish to be editors... Otherwise, I'll just suck. lol. I'm ok with that.
Enjoy!
* avi
Sweet Thing
Chapter 1: What Dreams Are Made Of.
The young girl crossed to midstage where she awaited the director's instruction.
She stood in the light, making sure she had placed her tiny silhouette completely in the center. Everything had to be perfect, everything had to go well.
The casting directors were busy, so she spent this extra time making sure everything was in place, in case somehow her nose had accidentally strayed to the wrong side of her face since she had checked herself only moments ago in the compact now pressing against her leg from her pocket.
She fiddled idly with her hands, her gaze nervously falling over one director to the other as they bickered about the last actress.
"We can't pass up this opportunity," the director on the far left was saying.
"You have to take into consideration what it means to turn away the Jackson girl, why her cousin practically runs the East end."
The middle director sat for a moment, to the young girl it was quite plain that this woman was readily nearing the boiling point.
She shifted uncomfortably, glad that the director's gaze had not been focused on her.
"You're both completely incompetent." She spat, "I have no idea what possessed John to hire such totally witless associates." She turned to the director on her right with a steely glare. "You are possibly the most inept human being to ever disgrace my presence. The "opportunity" you're so keen on pouncing on is known as 'selling out,' to commoner folk." Her razor sharp glare swooped now to the judge at her left. "And you! Just what the HELL are you doing here? Did some cousin get you this job? Because it sure as hell wasn't your talent as an advisor. If anyone lacks more talent in their chosen field than you, it's Victoria Jackson herself. It seems you and Vicky have something in common after all."
She grinned icily, completely satisfied with herself. The other two directors were busy collecting the remains of their self respect and calming their blushing cheeks, and so when the head director turned to the young brunette she had never felt any more helplessly alone.
The director cleared her throat. "And who are you?" She dripped sweetly.
"S-Sarah." She stuttered, suddenly ashamed. If only she had been born something exotic, something immediately likeable, something magnetic like Shauna or Devee or Mistletoe.
To her astonishment, the icy director's face drew into a smile.
"My name is Sarah, too." She explained. "You don't get many Sarah's in the business these days, it's all about the showmanship now, all these Savannahs and Rajas and Skylars." She paused, reminiscing for a moment, then continued. "Tell me about yourself, Sarah, why are you here?"
Sarah grinned, and flew into her speech. "I want to create, I want to express what other people can't... I want to send a message to the world with my acting, I'd love to be a role model for younger children." She paused briefly, "to inspire in other people what my mother has inspired in me."
"You're mother is an actress?"
"Yes, well, no... She was an actress, before my father died that is."
To her surprise the director began to clap her hands at this.
"Perfect," she burst, "simply perfect. I've only known you three seconds and I'm already bored.
Sarah couldn't stop herself, "excuse me?" she stammered.
"Oh of course," dripped the sneering director from below the stage. "Do you realize that you have just spouted off the most inane, stereotypical, hollywood wannabe type dribble that I hear every day, all day?"
Sarah's eyes grew wide in complete shock.
"Every young woman that comes through that door," She pointed, emphasizing, "has a sob story to tell. Every one of them. And yours is remarkably similar to theirs, as are your aspirations. You are nothing special, Sarah. You remind me of when I was young and stupid. Do yourself a favor and go back home and return when you have something better to tell me."
Sarah couldn't move, couldn't blink, couldn't think.
"I said, Go." She waved her hands towards the exit.
"Don't I... Don't I even get to do my piece?"
The director laughed, the other two directors hardly looking up at Sarah now, their gazes intently fixed on their blank steno pads. Making it clear that these auditions were a one woman show.
"With the way you delivered that line about your father, I wouldn't trust you flipping burgers in a Wendy's commercial. You just don't have depth. You don't have heart. And you certainly don't have ability." The director paused, calculating. "Go home, Sarah. And grow up."
The young brunettes eyes filled with tears, all the fight gone from her.
As she fled the stage, practically jogging to the door, the young woman behind the desk turned to her two co-directors.
"Let's call it a day, shall we? I've had as much creative genius as I can stand for one day."
With that said, Sarah Williams grabbed her red Gucci bag and was out the door before either associate had the time to stop her.
Not that they would have said a word to encourage her to stay.
Sarah was just a plain -- well, not very well liked anyway.
There's certainly no need for profanity in the first chapter. After all --
Suddenly there was a murmer from the left seated casting director as she rose to grab her bag, "Bitch."
- - - - - - -
*avi
Date: 2/2/03 4:22:44 AM Eastern Standard Time
From: SlvrLuna47
To: labfic@yahoogroups.com
To: Jareth_Sarah_Forever@yahoogroups.com
To: Marysia@marysia.com
Finally posting...
Title: Sweet Thing
Author: Aviry Nolane, slvrluna47@aol.com
Rating: Rather PG
Summary: Recipe For One Sweet Thing: One part feisty main character, riddled with emotional holes, add one part authoress tired of emotional crapwittage fluff, mix well, adding chunks of bad humor and hollywood glam. Mix. Destroy.
Keywords: One Evil Sarah
Notes: Hope you like! I have 2 other parts written... which i will distribute to JSF group members to be edited if they voice their wish to be editors... Otherwise, I'll just suck. lol. I'm ok with that.
Enjoy!
* avi
Sweet Thing
Chapter 1: What Dreams Are Made Of.
The young girl crossed to midstage where she awaited the director's instruction.
She stood in the light, making sure she had placed her tiny silhouette completely in the center. Everything had to be perfect, everything had to go well.
The casting directors were busy, so she spent this extra time making sure everything was in place, in case somehow her nose had accidentally strayed to the wrong side of her face since she had checked herself only moments ago in the compact now pressing against her leg from her pocket.
She fiddled idly with her hands, her gaze nervously falling over one director to the other as they bickered about the last actress.
"We can't pass up this opportunity," the director on the far left was saying.
"You have to take into consideration what it means to turn away the Jackson girl, why her cousin practically runs the East end."
The middle director sat for a moment, to the young girl it was quite plain that this woman was readily nearing the boiling point.
She shifted uncomfortably, glad that the director's gaze had not been focused on her.
"You're both completely incompetent." She spat, "I have no idea what possessed John to hire such totally witless associates." She turned to the director on her right with a steely glare. "You are possibly the most inept human being to ever disgrace my presence. The "opportunity" you're so keen on pouncing on is known as 'selling out,' to commoner folk." Her razor sharp glare swooped now to the judge at her left. "And you! Just what the HELL are you doing here? Did some cousin get you this job? Because it sure as hell wasn't your talent as an advisor. If anyone lacks more talent in their chosen field than you, it's Victoria Jackson herself. It seems you and Vicky have something in common after all."
She grinned icily, completely satisfied with herself. The other two directors were busy collecting the remains of their self respect and calming their blushing cheeks, and so when the head director turned to the young brunette she had never felt any more helplessly alone.
The director cleared her throat. "And who are you?" She dripped sweetly.
"S-Sarah." She stuttered, suddenly ashamed. If only she had been born something exotic, something immediately likeable, something magnetic like Shauna or Devee or Mistletoe.
To her astonishment, the icy director's face drew into a smile.
"My name is Sarah, too." She explained. "You don't get many Sarah's in the business these days, it's all about the showmanship now, all these Savannahs and Rajas and Skylars." She paused, reminiscing for a moment, then continued. "Tell me about yourself, Sarah, why are you here?"
Sarah grinned, and flew into her speech. "I want to create, I want to express what other people can't... I want to send a message to the world with my acting, I'd love to be a role model for younger children." She paused briefly, "to inspire in other people what my mother has inspired in me."
"You're mother is an actress?"
"Yes, well, no... She was an actress, before my father died that is."
To her surprise the director began to clap her hands at this.
"Perfect," she burst, "simply perfect. I've only known you three seconds and I'm already bored.
Sarah couldn't stop herself, "excuse me?" she stammered.
"Oh of course," dripped the sneering director from below the stage. "Do you realize that you have just spouted off the most inane, stereotypical, hollywood wannabe type dribble that I hear every day, all day?"
Sarah's eyes grew wide in complete shock.
"Every young woman that comes through that door," She pointed, emphasizing, "has a sob story to tell. Every one of them. And yours is remarkably similar to theirs, as are your aspirations. You are nothing special, Sarah. You remind me of when I was young and stupid. Do yourself a favor and go back home and return when you have something better to tell me."
Sarah couldn't move, couldn't blink, couldn't think.
"I said, Go." She waved her hands towards the exit.
"Don't I... Don't I even get to do my piece?"
The director laughed, the other two directors hardly looking up at Sarah now, their gazes intently fixed on their blank steno pads. Making it clear that these auditions were a one woman show.
"With the way you delivered that line about your father, I wouldn't trust you flipping burgers in a Wendy's commercial. You just don't have depth. You don't have heart. And you certainly don't have ability." The director paused, calculating. "Go home, Sarah. And grow up."
The young brunettes eyes filled with tears, all the fight gone from her.
As she fled the stage, practically jogging to the door, the young woman behind the desk turned to her two co-directors.
"Let's call it a day, shall we? I've had as much creative genius as I can stand for one day."
With that said, Sarah Williams grabbed her red Gucci bag and was out the door before either associate had the time to stop her.
Not that they would have said a word to encourage her to stay.
Sarah was just a plain -- well, not very well liked anyway.
There's certainly no need for profanity in the first chapter. After all --
Suddenly there was a murmer from the left seated casting director as she rose to grab her bag, "Bitch."
- - - - - - -
*avi