Chapter 4: Could You Use Me?

A/n: I apologize for any bad or incorrect descriptions: I've never been to New York City before, so please don't get all weird if I'm wrong.

There's a job that I'm applying for – let me put it to you thus: it's a partnership I'm dying for – Mr. and Mrs. Us.

- - - - - -

It felt quite odd to wear such a heavy jacket in early November, but then she remembered: she was in New York, not Los Angeles. Normally, she could get away with a t-shirt during this time of year, and the bulky warmth was one of many new things. Sydney remembered to hide the weirdness of the jacket, considering Sophia was from the north and would be well adjusted already. However, it was no surprise to Sydney when a chilling wind blew through the open door of the plane and stung Sydney's cheeks as she exited.

Another new thing was Sydney's hair. She had taken a shower early this morning and dyed it; now two shades lighter than before. She dyed her eyebrows as well, wanting it to look as real as possible.

She smiled flirtatiously at the pilot as she passed him, twirling a strand of light brown hair in her fingers. It was rather fun getting into character. She used to do it more often as a double agent.

Making her way to retrieve her luggage, she commenced her transformation into Sophia. Being an actress, she definitely would not be shy, but outgoing. Probably not a great secret keeper, either. Naive, perhaps, in a new, big city like New York. She grabbed her three suitcases and headed out to the street, pretending to be cautious about hailing a taxi.

"Where to?" A husky, big-boned man of his forties sat up front in the driver's seat, eyeing her luggage. He stepped out – though seemingly reluctantly to Sydney – and helped to set her bags in the trunk. She handed him a slip of paper where she had scribbled the address down. before he sat back inside. He chewed his gum noisily. "Ah, yeah. I know where that it. My brother lives over there. Nice apartments."

Sydney cast him a nervous smile as he pulled out sharply into the street, cutting another taxi off behind him and receiving several honking horns to which he grumbled. "I'm glad to hear it. I'd hate moving here without knowing I'd get a crappy apartment."

"Oh, so you're new in town," he replied casually before turning a corner a little too late. Sydney nearly fell off the seat even with her seat belt.

"Yes, I just moved here from Seattle. I'm an actress."

"Oh, will I get to see you in any big shows? Hey, watch it, pal!" he honked at the car in front of him.

"Maybe... I don't –"

He flipped off the driver in a passing car. "Get off the road, you bastard! Sorry, what were you saying?"

She bit her lip skeptically. "Well my first audition is tomorrow, and it's a bit nerve-wracking."

"Nah, don't worry about it; you'll do fine." He slammed on his breaks. "You fucking moron! Watch the damn light changes! Huh, huh? Sorry 'bout that. Damn drivers need to learn some etiquette."

Obviously... She began to survey the scenery, which was now beginning to look like the city. She began to ramble on about things she had "read" about New York as they passed through Queens. And squealing with delight upon driving on the Manhattan bridge amused the driver despite his occasional road rage. She gazed at the river below her with artificial excitement and recalled that Weiss lived in some neighborhood southwest of there on the north side of Brooklyn. She sighed. He'd be far away. Who would she talk to? Who was closest? Vaughn. And Lauren... Why were they in her same apartment complex? She hated them being so close to remind her of everything she had lost...

No, this was not the time. She had to stay happy and perky like Sophia would be now. No bad thoughts, none whatsoever.

They soon passed Chinatown, and eventually made their way to Avenue A. "Just a few more blocks – get a move on, dick! – we're almost there," he assured while honking the horn madly. Finally, he stopped in front of a large brick building overlooking a park. It looked rather dreary with all the leaves already fallen, but she was sure it was beautiful in the spring time. Except she'd only be there through winter. She sighed. "That there's Tomkin's Square. It's pretty safe, but I wouldn't wander there too much after dark. Might be unsafe for you." That's what you think, she mused. They each stepped out of the taxi, and Sydney stretched her arms and drew in a hefty breath of cool, crisp air. He helped her get her suitcases out and onto the sidewalk in front of the door. "My brother lives in Apartment 5 if you need anything. Name's Joe. I'll tell him to watch out for you... What'd you say your name was?"

She hadn't told him yet. "Sophia."

"Well then I'll tell him to take care of Sophia in Apartment 47. All right? Oh, by the way, I'm James." They shook hands, and then Sydney paid him. She remembered Joe and James, though she knew she wouldn't need either of their help.

She stepped into the doorway, fiddling with her keys to find the right one. She heard James yelling at someone trying to pull into the spot behind him as she shoved it into the lock and twisted it the right. Stepping inside, she noticed the stained carpet first, but everything else seemed clean enough. She headed for the elevator and pushed the button for the fourth floor. She soon found herself standing in front of Apartment 47, sighing at the fact that this would be her new home for the next months. Home. Home was the apartment she shared with Francie. Home burnt in a fire two years ago. Now she had no "home."

Earlier that day the "movers" had come to bring in her furniture. It really, of course, was local CIA agents providing her with a furnished living space. Hopefully they had arranged things for her...

Opening the door, she sighed in relief. It was a nice apartment: spacious, but not too big for one person. It had a balcony porch that looked back at the park, which seemed wasted in the coming cold weather. Looking around, all furniture seemed in place excepting a few minor things that she could fix no problem. Several boxes lay helplessly around on the floor, and upon inspection, she found they were filled with framed family pictures (doctored courtesy of Marshall and Carrie), silverware, plates, and cups. Wandering over to the hall on her right, she noticed another box in the bathroom (filled with extra toiletries) and more in the bedroom (filled with clothes – a major plus – and several high-tech items).

She set her bags in her bedroom, planning to unpack later, and walked back through the hall, then combined living room and dining room, and into the kitchen in the far left of the apartment. Checking out the fridge, she found it already stocked with enough food to last her the week. She quickly pulled out a cup from a box and poured herself a glass of water from a pitcher in the fridge and gulped it down, searching for something to eat. She decided to make a sandwich and relax the rest of the evening.

She crawled into the davenport in the living room and grabbed the remote control on the coffee table in front of her. While mindlessly watching a rerun of something she grabbed the box filled with pictures. The photos were doctored quite well. If Sydney didn't know the truth she would have never guessed that they were fake. There were ones of her when she was younger (not all of those were altered), and some with her "family" and "friends."

This was her life now, she remembered, and for the next couple of months. She sighed. And auditions started tomorrow...

- - - - - -

She awoke before the sun had risen that next morning, changing into a professional looking outfit for the singing portion of the auditions. She knew if she didn't sing well then she would be immediately cut, and the CIA would be an agent short for this mission. She refused to let that happen.

She cautiously stepped into the subway, eyeing a free silver pole in its middle before grabbing on as the train jerked in motion. Pretending to study the subway system map for her stop, she began to think about the importance of today. Singing, acting, then dancing. That was the order of the audition days; not the order Sydney would have chosen at all. She felt most comfortable with acting; it was how she used to live every day. Her lies. Was it any different now? No. She was merely acting as an actress. A double actress, if you will. She chuckled internally as the train rounded a bend, causing several unsuspecting passengers to stumble, including Sydney who had "accidentally" loosened her grip from the bar. The once double agent was now a double actress.

Her second most comfortable would be dancing. Since Gabriel had already taught her most of the steps she would have little difficulty "learning" any of the moves. But the hardest thing, what she knew she'd have the most trouble with was the singing portion. Rose Callaway had pushed her limit excessively, but was she ready? Rose had told her so with confidence.

But Sydney still worried...

What if she bombed the audition? What if she suddenly became horribly sharp, or forgot to let loose her vibrato? What if she got cut? What would the CIA use her for then? What would Vaughn think of her?

Whoa, she stopped herself as the subway came to a jolting stop. She hurried out the doors and scrambled through the station in search of her door. Where did that Vaughn thing come from? While she told herself it was simply a random question, part of her knew she still thought of Vaughn constantly in the back of her mind despite her efforts to quit thinking about him. He haunted her every thought, whether she wanted to admit it or not, and she still secretly yearned he would take her back.

But she had to stop thinking that way, not because she wanted to, but because she had to. It boggled her brain to ponder; how could something so simple be so complicated? She had loved him, and was pretty sure he had loved her. She disappeared, and he moved on, lacking the faith or patience to wait for her. Lacking something. She wished she knew.

She wanted to be angry with him, she wanted to yell at him and kick and scream and cry, cry so hard, cry the second Niagara Falls, but she would not. She would never. Why is that? she asked herself mockingly. And that was because deep down, she knew she would never stop loving him; he would forever haunt her thoughts; she'd still spend hours dreaming of ways he would come back to her; and she would mentally brutalize herself for letting her hurt this much for so long...

She had been walking through the city for how long now? She was on the west side now. When did that happen? There was Ground Zero if she ventured a few blocks farther. But no. She would stop and gingerly open the double doors near a small alley on Broadway. This was the theater. This was Scott Theater; where her destiny awaited.

She saw a few people walking ahead of her, and she followed them hopefully. Looking around, the foyer was a grand marble floor with red velvet hangings draped over the walls. The ticket booths had musical posters plastered to the walls. She found the stairs to the balcony, but turned into a separate hallway far from that. She soon found herself in a waiting room filled with other young aspiring actors. She spotted Weiss reading over a script along the far wall, but pretended just to be observing the people. There were fewer people here than she expected; good.

Writing her name down on a sign-in sheet at a table, she grabbed her number and a script and sat down into an empty chair. She, too, read over the script. After a few scenes, a door close to where Weiss was sitting opened, and a young man with straight black hair and black glasses stepped out with a clipboard. "Number sixteen?" he asked.

It turned out to be Weiss. She buried herself in the script again before she could catch his gaze and flash him a smile... She couldn't know him. He was gone between ten or fifteen minutes before number seventeen was called in, and since Sydney was number twenty-four she knew she would have a while.

A few other people arrived without Sydney noticing. But the shortly after number twenty was called, Vaughn and Lauren entered the room and made their way to the table to sign-in; Lauren thirty and Vaughn thirty-one. They sat down in two empty seats directly behind Sydney, causing her to be slightly agitated.

The silence between them was tense, although most likely unnoticed by the couple and surrounding people. However, Sydney felt suffocated by it; a noose strung around each of their throats that tightened with each breath. She envied how they got to know each other already, how they're aliases were married.

Not a moment too soon Sydney's number was called, and she happily rose from her chair, leaving Vaughn and British Barbie behind her (she just remembered that nickname, and laughed coldly to herself). The black haired man led her to a back room, where he left her outside the door and told her the instructions. "Tell them your name and audition number, and they'll have you sing a little. When you're done they'll tell you whether or not to return for tomorrow's auditions."

She nodded, and nervously entered the room. She smiled warmly at director and other such people sitting at a table, strutting into the room like she owned it; like she was Rose about to belt out a ballad on Broadway. "I'm Sophia Smith, number twenty-four," she stated with faux confidence and charisma.

"Good morning," the director greeted while one of his colleagues scribbled down Sydney's name. His name was Damien Bruggman, she recalled, and he had a very laid back atmosphere about him. The way he sat, the way his graying hair wasn't combed to look anything particular, the way the expression on his face gave an "I don't care" kind of impression. Sydney could tell he had vision, though. He had that artistic view of life that only special people were gifted with. She thought she might like him. "Why don't you sing 'I Got Rhythm?'" he asked casually, pulling the song off the top of his head.

Sydney nodded at the pianist to begin an intro. She remembered Rose's words. Watch that note... "'Days can be sunny, with never a sigh / don't need what money can buy/'" She increased her volume, hearing Rose hound her in the back of her mind. "'Birds in the trees, sing their day full of song / Why shouldn't we sing along/ I'm chipper all the day / happy with my lot / How did I get that way/ Look at what I've got.../'" A small smile crept on he face and she allowed herself to be consumed by the music. "'I got rhythm / I got music / I got my man / who could ask for anything more?'"

She completed the song with a grin, proud of hitting every note perfectly. She expected Damien Bruggman to request another song, but instead he said, "Great. We'll see you tomorrow at nine AM. Study Act I, Scene 3, and Act II, Scene 1."

She quickly thanked him and exited out the back door, finding herself in that side alley. She let out a huge sigh of relief; the worst was over.

- - - - - -

All four of the agents had passed through the first day of auditions, so had about forty of sixty auditions. The next day they recited lines with one another, and Sydney even got to do a scene with Weiss (though they each hid their excitement). She anticipated watching Vaughn and Lauren perform, wanting to wish that Lauren was horrible and would be cut. She turned out to be fairly decent, as any CIA officer would. But Vaughn, however, was purely amazing. His emotions seemed so pure and realistic that she actually believe he was Bobby, Zangler, Wyatt, or whoever he portrayed for that scene. She hoped she was the same way.

Again, all four agents proceeded to the third and final audition of dance with around twenty-five of the remaining auditioners. There were eighteen spots open, so more than ten of them would have disappointment. The four agents were well prepared for this round of auditions due to their three week training in Detroit. Gabriel and other instructors taught them well, so when it came time for them to learn the steps for Finale, they did not have to work hard at all.

The director decided that he would call the chosen eighteen that evening, and so Sydney sat eagerly by the phone as she picked at her dinner. She with watched television in a preoccupied manner, when suddenly the phone rang.

It didn't finish its first full ring before she answered. "Hello?"

"I'm Moose! The cowboy!" It was Weiss. She remembered on the second day of auditions where Nicholas Chesaning and Sophia Smith cordially introduced themselves and became fast friends. They exchanged phone numbers. Now Sydney and Weiss could talk freely. "Have they called you yet?"

"Not yet," Sydney sighed. She had desperately hoped it was Damien Bruggman telling her she was Polly, and Christopher Garth would be her Bobby. How unrealistic would that be? Ha! She knew she would settle for a showgirl, even a brief appearance in the Ensemble. "Have you talked to Vaughn or Lauren?"

"No, but I think I'll call them after this." Nicholas Chesaning met many people that particular morning... "But I'm a cowboy! How cool is that? And not just any cowboy, but one of the prominent ones! Syd, are you even listening to me?"

"What? Oh, sorry. That's great." She was extremely happy for Weiss, but had gotten distracted on the mention of Vaughn and Lauren. It was a fact she was slowly getting used to. It would happen at every mention for a long time, she was sure. "Does Dixon know?"

"Yeah. He's holding a meeting for us after the cast meeting on Monday. And we're getting our long term assignments then." She heard him breathing into the phone. "Okay, well I better shut-up and let the director call you. I'd feel bad if I was the reason you missed the casting call."

"No you wouldn't."

"You're right, I wouldn't. Good night."

"Good night." She hung up quickly in hopes that the phone would instantly ring. Alas, it didn't.

A television sitcom passed before the phone rang again. "Hello?" she answered in excitement.

"Hey, Syd, it's Dixon." She frowned, muting the TV. "Have you gotten called yet?"

"No, not yet." She bit her lip. What if she really didn't get a part? What if something had gone horribly wrong that she failed to notice. What if she –

"Weiss is a cowboy, Lauren is Irene Roth, and Vaughn is Bobby Child. Call me back when you find out."

She agreed, and the bid their goodbyes. Vaughn was Bobby! She knew he had the drive to get that role. And Lauren was Irene, the annoying fiancé. Interesting. Quite interesting...

Ring!

Now if Sydney could only join the cast.

Ring!

She truly wanted to put in the long hours of rehearsal, even if only for a tiny part, and she was willing to put in the work and the effort...

Ring!

Her eyes snapped open upon finally hearing the phone. "Hello?" she answered skeptically. Who would it be this time, her father?

"Hi, Miss Smith, this is Damien Bruggman."

Her vocal chords froze and her heart skipped a beat. "Hi." Sophia would be a case of nerves too, right?

"I was just letting you know that the part of Polly Baker is yours, if you'd like it."

Of course, a silly showgirl. Wait! Polly Baker! The lead role! Opposite none other than Vaughn! "Yes!" she exclaimed. "I... Yes!"

He laughed. "Good. The cast meeting is Monday night at seven, and rehearsals start the next morning. See you then, Sophia."

"Bye."

Polly Baker, Polly Baker, Polly Baker! She was the leading girl! How proud Rose would be of her right now. She quickly called Dixon and told him of the news. She then changed into her pajamas and plopped into bed.

Her head was spinning; her limbs were lead, and spine tingled with delight. She was ecstatic and excited, yet simultaneously worried and unsure. Vaughn was her main co-star. She get to work – have to work – all the time with him. They'd sing together, dance together, and there would be kisses...

And there was precisely the uncertainty: the kisses and closeness. Could they stand being together again, or would their new paths draw them apart? His alias was married too, and to their co-star. How would that work? Wouldn't she be jealous? True, it would only be a stage kiss, but a kiss would be a kiss, regardless of titles.

Confusion swirled about her brain, with the occasional burst of thought that this would work. It would work. It would have to. She wanted this partnership more than anything. And all she had to do was remember: Sophia Smith and Christopher Garth, two complete strangers.

A/n: There we go, Chapter 4. I never really liked it all that much, but it's growing on me. Please tell me what you think and review. I really want to know your views on all this. Next chapter preview: the cast meeting, the agent meeting, and rehearsals. And some other stuff, obviously. Thanks for reading this chapter!