"You're late," she hisses right in his face, a cloud of perfume and warm light assaulting the senses as Orange is dragged along by a skinny hand in his sleeve. "We got to get you to wardrobe." Racks and racks of brightly stained fabrics, sequins, feather boas, the gluey scent of makeup and plaster and Orange can't hardly keep his feet under him.
"Late?"
"Late. Way late. Where the hell have you been?" He doesn't know her, but she seems to know him. Lot of that going around, lately.
"McClusky?"
"Yeah?" She pops her gum, staring him down over her shoulder as they pace by lit mirrors.
"What am I late for?"
McClusky rolls her big eyes, shoving an arm into a clothing rack and pulling an outfit free. "That joke wasn't funny the first time you told it, Newendyke." She pushes and prods and abandons Orange behind a dressing room curtain.
"Where's White?"
"Huh?" She's rummaging around just outside the curtain.
Orange starts to undress. The costume is an anonymous black suit, fabric cheap and light. "Larry."
"I think he's at props. Prollem with the guns, again."
This makes sense. Freddy feels himself settle into his skin a little easier. He maps a hand over his chest before slipping the white button-up over his arms. "I gotta get to makeup, I think my scars fell off."
"You won't need the scars for this scene."
"Oh." Freddy shuffles awkwardly into the black trousers. The air is thick with polyester and hairspray and he can hear the stage orchestra warming up out front. The high chirp of violins and the sad wheeze of brass and bagpipe. "This is just rehearsal, right?"
"Yeah. Why, you nervous?"
"I don't think I remember my script."
"Jim's got one waiting for you soon's we get your hair mopped down."
Freddy parts the curtain with a flourish, squinting down at McClusky. "Not the commode scene, again? I already know that one by friggin rote, Jodie."
"Naw, it's the death scene. You know, the big finish. Just need to get our props and effects put to tack." Jodie dimples up at Freddy. "Welcome to Hollywood, I guess. Get yer ass to makeup." She shoves a toddler's carseat into his arms, then points him in the right direction.