I know I said I'd update Mondays but I just couldn't wait! So here you go :) The next update WILL be Monday, though. I hope you enjoy it!
The sound of her phone, shrill and demanding, against her wooden bedside table, wakes her with a start. She tries to open her eyes, but her lids are heavy with exhaustion, and they fall closed again. When she manages to pry them open, she squints at the room around her. It's dark, thanks to her heavy blackout curtains, but a thin wisp of light seeps through a gap.
One arm emerges from the mountain of covers that drown her. She pats the bedside table blindly in a frantic search for her phone. Soon, she's pressing it to her ear.
"Hello," she says, voice thick with sleep.
"Emma!"
"David," Emma groans. "What are you doing calling so early? It's only…"
"Ten o'clock." There's an amused tone to his voice. Her eyes move to the alarm clock. So it is. "You should really get up earlier."
"Sure thing, Dad." There's a chuckle from the other end of the line. "What do you want?"
"I'm the bearer of good news. It's about the audition."
It takes a moment for his words to sink in. She's still in full zombie mode. But when the word "audition" fights through the haziness, she's suddenly alert. She sits up, throwing the covers away. The room spins, but she ignores it. "The audition?"
It's been a few weeks since the audition. She was beginning to give up all hope of hearing anything back from them at all, especially after her little argument. Usually they're faster to send out rejection letters.
"They loved you. You've got a callback."
A beat. And then: "What?"
"That's right."
Emma sits in silence, unable to believe it. His words echo over and over in her head like a record. When she speaks again, her voice is weak. "But… I got into an argument with one of them. I stormed out."
"Yeah, they told me that. I said it sounds like something you'd do. As it turns out, that's what they wanted. This character has a lot of fire. They wanted to see if you had some of that yourself."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously!" he laughs. "So get up, get dressed and learn some more of that script. They emailed me callback details. I'll forward them to you."
"Thanks David." Her voice is breathless. She's already out of bed, ripping clothes from the wardrobe. Her faded blue jeans and a thin sweater. The phone balances awkwardly between her shoulder and her ear.
"I'll speak to you later, Emma."
She throws her phone over on the bed, on top of the covers. Within minutes she's dressed, and hopping on one foot as she yanks her boots over her socks. She has a busy day ahead of her.
David comes with her to the audition. He picks her up in his car (after the nightmare she had with her bug last time) and she climbs nervously into the passenger side. The seats are all comfortable leather. Air conditioning hits her as soon as she slides in, relaxing her, if only a little.
"Emma, hey," he greets with a wide, easy going smile. "Nervous?"
"What do you think?"
She wipes her palms on her skirt. She's chosen to dress smart today; a black jumper and a black skirt over black tights. Maybe she should have dressed with more colour instead of like she's heading to a funeral. She even left her trusty red jacket at home, which she's starting to see as a mistake. The smell of the leather usually calms her. She feels stronger when she wears her armour.
"You have nothing to worry about." He reassures her. The car hums to life and he pulls out onto the trafficless street. "They loved you. I could tell."
"You're too optimistic for your own good." She places her warm hands against the vents. Cool air soothes her burning skin. "You weren't even there."
"Have faith. Do you know what's expected of you from this audition? They want to see-"
"See how I am with other characters, yeah, yeah." She rolls her eyes. "You've said it a million times."
"Chemistry is important." He takes his eyes off the road for a second to give her a look. One of those looks that makes her feel like a child. "It can make or break a TV show. Especially if they give you a romantic plot, which I'm sure they're going to. The audience have to fall in love with the characters before the characters fall in love with each other."
"Careful, David. You're starting to sound like you actually know what you're talking about."
He laughs, bright and warm. "This may come as a surprise, Emma, but I do know what I'm talking about."
The journey takes forever even though it's only thirty miles. By the time they get there, a nest of butterflies have built in her stomach. She both loves and loathes this feeling that comes with the job.
They're early and so they sit in the car and wait. David chats about Mary Margaret. They're expecting a baby and he's super excited, unable to keep the grin off his face. Emma takes this as a sign. It means good news all around.
When the time comes, they walk together, side-by-side. David strolls. Emma walks uneasily, like her feet are made of lead. The building looms ahead, casting a dark shadow over them. Even though Emma has been here before it still puts her off a little.
The elevator works this time. When David asks why she's smiling, she tells him the story of her last audition and how everything seemed to be moving against her, like the universe was telling her she couldn't do it.
"I'd like to see the thing that stops Emma Swan," David murmurs as he presses one of the floor buttons.
It feels like they're in that musty little elevator longer than they should be. Creaking sounds around them, endless and unnerving. It could drop at any moment, Emma thinks. They're supposed to be renovating the building, but they can't have done this part yet.
Eventually, there's a ding. The elevator doors open with a groan. It's their cue to leave, but Emma isn't exactly sure she can. She stares out into the corridor, onto the white walls and the tiled floors. It's all too familiar to her, and at the same time, it's not familiar at all. Maybe that's what keeps her rooted to the spot.
"Emma…?" David asks. "You alright there?" His eyes are fixed on her face.
"I just need a minute."
The thing is, she's terrified. A lot is riding on this audition. A hell of a lot. She can see Henry in front of her as clear as day, his expression falling as she tells him she hasn't got it. The thought of telling him they'll still be struggling with money makes her stomach churn. Maybe he'll go and live with Regina permanently. She won't stop him. It's what's best for him.
"Emma…?"
Her eyes meet his, wide and shining. "I have to get this."
"You will." Unwavering confidence. She wonders if he says this to all his clients.
"No, David. You don't understand. I need this. I need to get it."
He takes a stride towards her and grasps her shoulders in his big hands. Staring right into her face, he shakes her a little. "Then take it. You go in there and you take it."
She stares back. She can see that hope in his eyes, the same hope she's seen in his wife's so many times. "Okay."
After one more long stare, David releases her. She steps out of the elevator, into the corridor. They make their way down to the room in a loud silence. It's a different room from the original audition, further down the corridor.
David gives her a gentle push by her shoulders. With her heart in her throat, she knocks on the the door.
"Come in," calls a cheerful voice she recognises as Belle's.
Emma places her hand on the metal door handle and pushes. Cool air hits her as she takes a step inside. The room is much smaller than the previous one. There isn't even a space for acting.
There are a few coffee tables dotted around, filled with cookies of all shapes and sizes, and plastic cups for water and coffee. Chairs litter the room, some occupied, some empty. Most people stand around, chatting. She wonders if they're the actors or the producers.
David follows closely behind, a hand resting lightly on her shoulder. Some people glance at her when she walks in. Few smile.
"Emma," Belle greets when she sees her. She rushes over in her heels. "I'm glad you could make it."
"She wouldn't miss it for the world," David laughs, smacking her on the back.
"Well, I'm glad to hear it." That smile doesn't falter. "Okay, so Emma. You'll be acting with Killian Jones today. I'm sure you've heard of him."
"I've met him." When Belle raises her eyebrows, she adds quickly: "I ran into him after my audition. He introduced himself."
"Why am I not surprised?" says Belle, shaking her head. There's a fondness there. "So basically we're going to do it a bit impromptu. Kind of, kind of not, because you'll still be reading from the script. We'll take you to a room. He'll be in there. The rule is, as soon as you enter the room, you have to be in character. And you can't come out of character until you leave the room, okay?"
"Okay." She gives a firm nod. Emma's heard before that shows and movies do this sometimes. Didn't they do something like that with the Harry Potter movies? She remembers Henry telling her.
"We're going to give you a little time to prepare, and then we're going to take you in. So in about thirty minutes, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"So have some coffee, maybe a biscuit, and try not to look so nervous." She pats her arm soothingly. "I'll see you very soon. I just have to go and talk to Killian."
Belle leaves her, disappearing out the door. As soon as she's gone, David leans towards Emma, voice a low murmur. "I'm going to mingle. Find out the details. I'll be back. Have a coffee."
"Sure," she says with a small smile. He rubs her shoulder and disappears across the room.
Emma makes her way over to the coffee table, where people can help themselves. She scoops some sugar (more than she should) and pours coffee into a cheap, plastic cup. The only milk provided are those in little thimble containers. The ones that are tasteless.
Once she's satisfied her fuel craving, she takes a seat at one of the tables to go over her script. The page makes satisfying swoosh sounds as she flicks through to find the scene she's learned.
It was between Rose and Alexander, who is Killian's character. It's an apology scene, from Alexander to Rose, after he's been particularly rude to her. It seems the writers have started the whole love-hate relationship thing that's so popular.
She remains there for a good twenty minutes, alone and happy. She reads through the script, repeating the words, "I can do this," over and over in her head. And she can do it. She knows she can.
It isn't too long before David pulls out a chair and plonks himself down next to her. He's smiling but, then again, when is he not?
"Good news?" Emma asks.
He brings a finger up to his lips so swiftly, Emma has to wonder if it was ever there. She gets the hint and falls silent.
David leans forward, voice soft. "As it turns out they're not very impressed with the auditions at the moment."
Emma glances around to make sure no-one's listening. "How come?"
"They're very same old, same old. Do you know what that means?"
"I have to do something impressive," she answers almost at once.
"Right you are."
"That's all well and good David, but what the hell do I do?"
He leans back in his chair, pursing his lips. "I don't know. Give me five minutes."
"Emma Swan?"
The voice comes from behind them.. An asian woman with long black hair and an oval face stands above them, holding a clipboard. "They're ready for you."
Emma's stomach drops. She throws a panicked look over at David, whose face mirrors her expression.
"Can we, uh, have five more minutes?" he asks.
"I'm afraid we're on a tight schedule," she says, with a mandatory smile. "Emma has to come now. Unless she wants to miss the audition."
"But…"
The sound of Emma's chair scraping against the floor as she stands, interrupts him. "I'll be fine," she reassures, more herself than him. "See you soon."
And then she follows the woman out the room and into the corridor, wiping her palms on her jeans. Her heart is running at a million miles an hour, and she prays the woman doesn't hear it. She can't let on how nervous she is, but it seems impossible.
Her mind desperately searches for something unique to do for her audition, but she's grasping at straws. She's had her audition perfected for the past week. Down to the pronunciation of every syllable. How's she supposed to change that in a matter of minutes?
She's not.
She can't.
"As I'm sure you're aware," says the dark-haired woman, bringing Emma from her thoughts. "As soon as you set foot in the room, you're in character. Okay?"
"Okay." The thump, thump, thump of her heart sounds in her ears.
"Hey?" she says softly. Emma glances up. "I'm Mulan."
"Oh. Right," she replies, not really sure what to say. Mulan already knows her name, so what is she supposed to say? It's nice to meet her? Is it?
"You're gonna be fine, Emma. Don't worry too much."
"Yeah."
"Whenever you're ready, Emma."
She takes a deep breath, hands curling in her pockets as she sizes up the door. And then, she pushes it open.
This room is a lot larger than the previous audition room, with a generous space to act. Its walls are white and harsh. A few people are sat in there, Belle included. The same camera from her last audition blinks at her. Then she spots Killian, facing away from her, staring at one of the walls. He must be in character.
She's very aware of the others watching her. It kicks her into action.
"Sire?" she asks automatically.
He doesn't turn, but stares at something Emma can't see. She fixes her eyes on the back of his head, heart beating wildly.
Do something different, she thinks. Damn it, Emma Swan.
Her mind comes up blank. An uneasy feeling settles itself in her stomach. She's trying to think of something different, she really is, but she's also trying to remember her lines. She can't do both.
"Can I help you?" Killian asks, cutting.
Maybe she could play the character differently? Maybe the character could do something out of character…
No, that's stupid, she tells herself.
"I was wondering if I could ask something of you…"
That grabs his attention. He turns, eyebrows shooting up. "Oh?"
Rose lets out a relieved breath, but Emma's having a hard time calming her breathing. They're both in similar situations. They're both doing something that will have consequences, whatever happens.
"We're down on medical supplies," she says, "I was wondering if you could… ask King George for some more?"
"More medical supplies?" He asks without a beat.
"Yes," she clasps her hands in front of her and bites her lip. "We desperately need some."
"You want me to..." he takes a step towards her, oozing arrogance, not unlike Killian himself. "Ask my father?"
Come on Emma. Something different. Something new.
"Yes," she replies, looking right into his eyes. There's a buzz in the room. She can feel the producers' eyes on them, watching intently
A pause. A breath. Killian's eyes flicker across Emma's face, as if he's studying every feature. Even though they're acting, it makes her feel a little uncomfortable.
"And why would I…" he begins softly, "Help a servant such as yourself?"
Her eyes widen. "If you don't, people will die!"
"People die all the time." He waves a dismissive hand. He turns and stalks towards the other end of the room. She follows him, eyes still wide.
"Needlessly!" she exclaims.
He waves another dismissive hand.
"Your Grace, with all due respect, you can't-"
He whirls on his heel, face inches away from hers. "I can do what I want. I am the prince and I'm soon to become king."
"You-"
"Silence."
"But you-"
"SILENCE," He roars in her face. She doesn't flinch.
Emma doesn't know what makes her do it. Maybe it's because that pesky voice in her head is telling her to be different. Maybe it's because it's what she imagines she would do in this situation. Maybe it's because violence isn't a stranger to her.
She pulls back her hand and slaps him across the face. Hard.
For a moment, the silence is louder than their breathing. His ringed fingers come up to gently brush his face, now red and stinging. He stares at her in shock, and Emma can't exactly work out whether it's Alexander or Killian's eyes on her.
"I-" She swallows, mouth dry, painfully aware that she may have just cost herself the role. "I must go." And then she scrambles to the door and leaves as quickly as she can.
As soon as she's out, she rests her back flat against the door and breathes deeply. Tears sting her eyes, but she doesn't let them fall. Instead, she makes her way back into that other room, wanting to get her stuff and leave as soon as possible.
When David sees her expression, his face falls. "What did you do?"
"Don't want to talk about it." She reaches for her bag. The room is watching her. She wished they'd mind their own business. "Come on. Let's go."
He follows her out the door, and down the stairs (she doesn't bother waiting for the elevator). The summer haze does nothing for her temper. It just makes her feel even more hot. Only when they're in the car, does David speak again.
"What did you do?"
"I told you. Don't want to talk about it."
He watches her for a long time. She presses her lips together and stares straight ahead, fixing her eyes on a building. When he finally gets the hint that she's not going to talk, he sighs and starts the car. It comes to life. They drive the way home in silence.
"Mom!" comes Henry's voice from the living room. She doesn't hear it at first. She's cooking them pasta in the kitchen, listening to the rhythmic bubble of the water. The second "MOM!" has her heart in her throat. He sounds desperate.
Leaving the pasta to bubble over, Emma tears out of the kitchen. "Henry?" she yells, running through their hallways. "Henry, what's wrong?"
He meets her in the hallway, almost colliding into her face-first. She catches him by his arms, staring into his face with wild eyes. He's as white as a sheet, and his mouth hangs open.
"Henry?" she demands, shaking him.
"Mom, you got the part!"
"What's wrong?"
"Mom, listen to me. You got the part."
She freezes, staring at him. She feels all the colour drop from her face as she processes his words. "What?"
"There's a message on the answering machine. I think it's from the casting director? He said you got the part. You've gotta call him back."
Emma's hands drop Henry's arms. She feels numb, but not in a bad way. Just a shocked way. Part of her brain is screaming at her, telling her it's a trick, but the more rational side is telling her it can't be. How can it be?
"Oh God," she whispers. One hand flies up to her mouth, the other combs her hair behind her ear.
She can't believe it. She can't.
She's got it and she can't believe it.
"Mom, you need to check the message," says Henry, the voice of reason breaking through her dreamlike state.
She sinks back against the wall, afraid her knees are going to give out. Tears threaten to make an appearance. "You're right," is all she can say.
Once she's gathered the courage, she makes her way into the living room, where the phone is waiting.
The conversation is a quick one, where everything is confirmed. She got the part, even though she slapped their leading star, just like she got a callback even though she argued with one of the producers. Emma can't stop thanking him throughout the call, even as he tries to tell her valuable information.
When she hangs up, she dials David's number straight away to tell him the good news.
"Get on over here right now," he demands. "This calls for a celebration!"
Henry follows Emma up to the path of the Nolans' house. She's made him carry a cherry and apple pie, something they picked up from Regina's pie shop on the way there. He hasn't dropped it… yet. She has to hand it to the kid; he's carried the pie almost all the way here (they haven't brought the bug, because Emma wants a drink) and hasn't complained at all.
In her own hands, Emma carries two bottles of wine; one red, one white. Originally she was only going to bring one, but it's a celebration after all.
Emma shoves a bottle of wine under one of her arms and uses her newly freed hand to ring the doorbell. They both stand there for a moment, shivering ever-so-slightly. It's cold for early last August, despite the raging heat earlier in the day. Autumn must be on its way.
Soon enough, the door swings open. David stands there with a huge grin on his face. "Emma! Come on in."
Emma and Henry follow him inside, into their modest hallway. Emma slips out of her heels in the doorway, and Henry awkwardly unlaces his sneakers, placing them against the wall. David takes their coats, and ushers them into the kitchen and dining room where Mary Margaret is waiting for them.
She opens her arms when she sees them. "Emma. Henry."
Emma hugs her tightly, murmuring a congratulations about the baby at they pat each other's shoulders and stroke each other's backs. When they pull back, Emma can see tears shining in Mary Margaret's eyes. Happy tears.
"Congratulations on the audition," she says, meaning every word of it. "It's about time you had some good luck."
"Tell me about it," Emma sighs, as she places the wine on the kitchen table, and sinks down into one of the kitchen chairs. Mary Margaret swipes the bottles up and pulls three wine glasses (and one normal glass for Henry) from the cupboard. "It's been a tough few years. Hasn't it, kid?"
Henry nods.
"And now you have a job on one of the biggest shows to ever grace television," she muses, as she opens the wine and pours it in two glasses. The other two glasses, she fills with lemonade for herself and Henry.
"I've gotta say, it's super surreal."
"And for me," comes David's voice from behind them. He makes his way into the room, arms folded, shaking his head. "You're about to be one of my biggest clients yet."
"What about Ruby?" Emma teases, taking a sip from the glass Mary Margaret has just handed her. She can feel herself unwinding after all the tension of the past few weeks. It's like heaven.
David takes a seat beside her. "You've just overtaken Ruby by a milestone."
Emma doesn't want to be pleased at that, but she can't help herself. It's like the universe is finally giving back to her, after all these years of taking and taking.
"What do you think about your Mom being on your favourite TV show?" Mary Margaret asks Henry, as he sits opposite them, hands wrapped around his glass.
Henry, in typical teenager fashion, shrugs his shoulders. "It's pretty cool, I guess."
"You can tell us all the gossip, Henry," David laughs. "Who everyone likes. Who everyone hates."
"Alexander is a super popular character, I guess," he admits. And then, after a moment, "All my girl friends think he's kinda hot." And then his face colours, red rising up his neck and onto his cheeks. "I mean friends who are girls. They think he's hot."
"Oh yeah?" David's unable to keep the smirk off his face. Mary Margaret swats his arm.
"Don't embarrass him!" she scolds.
Emma can't help but laugh at that. It's amazing how Emma and Henry have fit themselves into David's little family. David could have been just her agent, but he's become so much more. She clicked with him when she first met him. After she'd met Mary Margaret for the first time, she knew she'd made a friend for life. Those kind eyes and that open heart was everything she didn't know she needed.
The rest of the night is one of the happiest Emma's ever had in her whole life. They laugh, they joke, she and David get drunk.
Emma manages to coax more information about the show from Henry. Apparently Alexander (Killian's character) has had a long, long string of lovers (or "girlfriends", as Henry put it). It makes Emma wonder whether they're going to keep her on the show. David is quick to soothe her worries. He tells her they've been looking for a more permanent love interest for a while. Henry agrees with that. He says the many girlfriends have gotten a little boring.
It puts Emma's mind at rest, but she's always been a worrier.
When it's time to go, Emma doesn't want to. They take a long time to say their goodbyes, with kisses on cheeks and over-enthusiastic hugs. It's about one o'clock when they leave. Henry doesn't mind because it's Friday and he doesn't have school.
When Emma gets in, she falls asleep on the sofa with a smile on her face.