Chapter Two: Unsettlement

"I want you to change your positioning on that last scene. It looked a bit awkward. Besides, we all know the camera favors your left side."

"No, no, no. Don't change the dialouge. This is an important scene, and it needs to stay true to the script."

"More emotion! I'm not feeling your pain!"

"Cut!"

The sound of sighing could be heard from all around. One of the loudest came from the dashing brunette standing in the middle of a fake set. Her director, a short, stump man of forty, was rubbing his temples fiercely. She wandered, for a split second, if it was possible to rub your skin off, just as cats sometimes did to their furr.

"Carmen, can I speak to you for a minute?" The man asked, standing from his chair and walking over to the girl. It was day 29. The deadline was approaching. Everybody was itching to go back home, spend time with their loved ones, sleep in their own beds. It was beyond the point where the actors forgot their lines, and stumbled to connect with their character.

And yet, Carmen was stuck on a level where she seemed to be nothing more than amature. There had been several times when she had wanted to request her lead role to that of an extra. She knew everybody was depending on her to nail this job, and yet, she seemed to be doing everything but that.

"I'm sorry, Mike. I have no idea what's gotten into me."

The bachelor placed a hand on Carmen's shoulder. "You know how many girls auditioned for this role."

Carmen nodded, "I'm beginning to think you should've picked one of them."

"Carmen, I chose you for a reason. When I saw you onstage, under the lights of Broadway, I knew you'd be the perfect canidate. I want to give you this chance to get your name out there. I want people to know who Carmen Lowell is and what she has to offer."

The female brushed a strand of her dark hair behind her ear and pondered what she'd just heard. She'd had doubts all along. From the moment she received the call stating Michael Gregory, the famous director, wanted her to star in his next motion picture, she'd questioned if he had mistaken her for someone else. It wasn't that she didn't love acting; she did. She cherished every second she spent in front of a crowd, playing anything from a seventeenth century queen to a modern day fortune teller.

But in the last twenty nine days, Carmen had come to realize that acting in front of a camera was very different than acting on a stage. She always soaked in the bright lights and limited walking space. While the manmade sets were nice, and the ability to act out a scene as many times as desired, until it reached perfection was a plus, Carmen was useless at it.

The most important factor taken away from her, was the one that made her thrive.

She didn't have an audience. She wasn't greeted with thousands of staring faces. She didn't carry the knowledge that there were no re-takes, that she had to get the lines perfect right then.

Her hunger and desire for the job was fullfilled by her ability to see the reactions of her viewers. She didn't need reviews to tell her how she'd done. One look at an expression of a viewer told her everything she needed.

Unfortunately, Carmen had discovered this fact too late. She had made a committement and was forced to see it through, no matter how terrible it was.

"I think I need to take the rest of the day off. Maybe run through the script again. Can I do that?" Carmen hesitated. She knew how much heat Mike was getting for signing off on a newbie like her. The producers were cutting the budget every day, and the critics weren't exactly jumping out of their seats so far.

After a minute's pause, Mike agreed, looking tired and defeated. "Go ahead. I'll skip to the scene with Joey and Eliza. But please, Car, try to do better tomorrow."

When the golf cart dropped her off in front her trailer, Carmen let out a heavy breath. The movie was placed in the back of her mind. All she wanted was to grab her belongings and drive back to her temporary apartment.

Locating her bag, Carmen dug out her phone. Her brand new Sidekick revealed three voice mails and several text messages. I can't get a moment of peace, anymore.

Dialing the voice mail box, Carmen bit restlessly on her thumb. The first message was from her brother, Ryan, reciting the grades he received on his last report card. The next one was from Claire, a fellow actress, asking Carmen if she audition in an upcoming show.

Carmen had made it to her small Lexus when the last message began to play. With the driver door opened and her body ready to sit down behind the wheel, Carmen let her keys drop unto the concrete.

"Hi, Carmen. It's me...I just wanted to...How have...Um, just call me back. I mean, if you get the chance. I know you're busy, and I undesrtand if you can't...Uh...Bye."

How could it be? There must have been a mistake. A wrong call.

No. No, they had said her name. They had distinctly said Carmen.

There was no fault. The message really was for her.

With shaking hands Carmen got in her car and closed the door. She felt as if she should distract herself. Stop trying to put more meaning behind the call than there was. It wasn't as if they were on bad terms. They weren't fighting.

But we aren't friends anymore, either.

Minutes passed. The sun was beginning to sink low in the sky when Carmen finally mustered up enough strength to turn on the car engine and drive away from the parking lot. The first red light she reached, she grabbed her cell and turned it off. She didn't think she could stand to hear it ring. She believed that by turning off the object that had recorded that fateful voice, she could erase the fact that it had ever occurred.

"I'm going away for the summer."

Davis looked up from his bowl of Frosted Flakes to stare at his girlfriend of five months. "And where, exactly, are you headed off to?" The news came as no surprise. If he had learnt anything about Bridget Vreeland, it was that she never stayed still.

"Back home."

This did, however, cause Davis to raise his eyebrows. It had been a week since he'd found her sitting in their living room, looking like she'd seen a ghost. Ever since, a shadow had surrounded the girl. She never seemed to concentrate on anything, getting distracted easily. And conversation had been lessoned to nothing more than greetings and goodbyes. This was the first time Bridget had been upbeat since that afternoon.

"Are you sure?"

Bridget's eyes darkened for a second. "Of course I am. I'm going to run a soccer program at Weston, my old high school."

"When'd you decide this?"

"Well, I've just been thinking lately," Bridget grabbed a bowl from the counter and joined him in his cereal. "I mean, I think it's only fair. I should try and give back to my old hometown. Besides, it'd be kind of cool to help have some fellow Bethesda kids become famous."

Davis looked wary. Even in the short five months of knowing Bridget, he knew a few valuable things.

Never hog the sheets.

Always let her grab the shower first.

Make sure there's plenty of ice cream stored in the freezer.

Don't ever bring up her history.

It was the most eminent piece of information he knew, and he made sure to stand by it no matter what.

But there she was throwing it in his face.

"I'll probably be gone until late August. I want to train the kids until the last week before school starts. The more time on the field, the better."

Unsure of what to say, Davis opted for the next best alternative. Silence.

"I ordered my plane ticket last night. I leave on Friday."

"But that's in three days!" Davis had finally found something to reply to.

"I know. But I want to begin on Monday. I've already talked to the coach and he's dealing with sign-ups and all the other little details."

"So you're going to spend the next two and a half months with these kids?"

Bridget frowned. "I'm trying to do some good here, Davis. I'd think, as a boyfriend, you could support me on this."

Davis was weak. He had no backbone, nothing to make him stand up and argue.

And what was worse, Bridget knew that about him.

"I do support you, Bridget. I want to see you happy. And if you think this is it...so be it."

Bridget was still frowning.

"I'll come visit when I can. Maybe weekends, holidays," Davis responded pitifully.

"No." The blonde stated harshly. "Stay here with your job. I need to be by myself on this."

The two stared at each other, fully knowing what that last remark meant for them as a couple.

A/N: I looked for the exact name of the high school the four girls went to, but I couldn't come up with anything. So if anyone does, in fact, know, please tell me and I'll fix my mistake.