Date
(Quinn)
The light was crap for control. Do you know when the proposal in the script was a cloudy melancholy day that reflects perfectly the soul of the character? Then comes the filming day and all the crew and cast met in the location, with all the necessary documentation and permissions. Everything is perfect including the sunny day without clouds, except that we needed the clouds, the grey, and even some rain.
"We'll have to use some blue." I told the director. "I'm sorry, I know you asked me to not mess with the natural light, but unless you create a metaphor for the conflict between indoor and outdoor character climate, this is the quickest and cheapest solution we have. I can't transform this sunny day on a cloudy one without using some filters."
"Using metaphors?" Ryan, the director, asked me.
"It's like showing the character in conflict next to people licking popsicle in the street, or children playing in the park and stuff. You create the trick, so I don't need to mess with the color and we don't waste the day."
"Let bluer the screen then." Ryan decided. "But not too much."
I nodded, adjusted the camera, and send my assistant to work with the cool colors. I grabbed my own camera to do the best analysis of tone. It took twenty minutes to reorganize everything and have Ryan's approval. Then he sent the actor to stand, we made a last measurement before the action. The short film was about the last day of a person. The dead man recounts the day after he died unexpectedly. He spends the whole time with a strange, melancholy, homesick feeling. And then the only moment of frivolous happiness he had, it was a kiss on the cheek from an unknown after a silly favor, he smiles, regains hope in the humanity and suffers a heart attack in the street.
I couldn't believe I would spend five days filming this shit.
Ryan wanted to try Tribeca festival, but I don't know. I wasn't feeling it: the script wasn't good. But Ryan was paying me fair to direct the photography. That pretentious short film was a great freelancer.
"You're out of position all the time!" I complained to the actor after he shot the first take. "If you keep going to the side of the street, the light will burst."
"But it's for the best of my acting." The actor complained back. "It will look more natural."
"So put your talent to the test and looks natural within the particular tag, Phill." I celebrated Ryan's order, and so the team. Actors thought the world was the stage for them.
The scene was over, thank God. Ryan dismissed the team for the day, so I put my camera and my own equipment in the backpack and ran to my other job. I had two apartments to take pictures and upload them in the website until 11 P.M.
"Hi Quinn." Rose, the receptionist, looked bored as always. "Marion left the apartment keys and addresses. She said they are empty and that you should upload the photos until ten."
"Why earlier?"
"I think she's negotiating them with a client from San Francisco." Fuck my life.
"Thank you." I took the keys knowing I had to give them back before I go to NYU. Anyway, I smiled. "Good night."
I took the envelopes and wanted to die when I saw that an apartment was on E 4th St, Bowery, Manhattan, and the other at 510 Jefferson Ave, Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn. This, then I should go home to Washington Heights.
I took the subway and went to Brooklyn first. I had to consult the map on my phone to see which station would come down. I had to talk a little bit. The problem was that it was getting dark, but I couldn't fight the time. The apartment was next to an old mill. It was leaked, furnished and cost what I was no longer able to afford. The room was excellent, with two great bedrooms, separate kitchen area, bathroom and toilet, plus green area behind. I took the pictures as fast as I could, and then I closed the apartment and ran back to Manhattan. I was afraid to advance work on the subway and go without all my stuff. At least the apartment at the Bowery was near from the station. This one was had three giant rooms that was for sale in the building on the corner with the Second Avenue.
I came home when was almost nine and practically ran to my building.
"Quinn!" Santiago seemed worried when practically broke into the front door and went straight to my room to get my computer. "What's up?"
"I was filming and then I had to do some work for the devil from that real estate office." I muttered already picking up my camera to download the photos.
"Answering the phone sometimes it's good."
"Sorry, Tiago. The boss said she wants to see the pictures at ten, then it is at ten."
"Want some help?"
"No I don't because you can confuse and harm me."
"Ouch!"
"Sorry. I'm just busy here and I need to run."
I made the lamest job when dealing with photos, but I was in hurry. I used all the automatic photoshop's features. The muscles in my back were like rocks and burned. Sweat dripped down my face. I worked as fast as I could within the maximum of attention to not swap files or I would be fired the next day. When I finished posting the last image, it gave me an urge to cry: these outbursts that you do when you're on the verge of exhaustion.
"Do you finish it?" Santiago appeared at the door of my room. I had both hands on my face, and only grumbled.
"Mm hmm."
"Great." and stood at the door as he always do when he had something to tell me.
"What?" I snapped wanting to take my clothes off closet and finally take a shower in our tiny, grimy bathroom.
"Bad Things opened the selection process. This time there is a vacancy for the photography and filming department."
"Working in the place of dreams and earn a salary that will barely pay the rent?"
"As you didn't heed the messages I left on your phone, I filled out the registration form for you and attached your resume on it, ok? So..."
"How dare you, Santiago Follet?" I said harshly. "How can I participate in a selection process with a short film in progress? These people pay me, so I can pay my part of the rent and eat!"
"I'm sorry…" He came out of my room and I was relieved.
I grabbed my clothes and went to bathe. It seemed a divine joke because while I soaped the water cooled. What was that? Purgatory? Astral hell? Was it punishment? I had no choice but to end the cold bath. I put on my pajamas and my stomach growled. High. I realized I hadn't eaten anything since that burger at lunch. Santiago was lying on the couch watching television. It's hard to avoid someone when you live with it, still, I ignored him. We didn't have many food options. Santana said that eating well is expensive. She was right. I was sick of noodles, but it was the only thing we had since Santiago hadn't done the grocery shopping of the week. We had noodles, half gallon of milk, some popcorn, frozen pizza, old bread, butter, and no money for delivery food.
I knew I had done a good job throughout the day, but I was so frustrated and tired. After I resigned from R&J, the impression I had was that my professional life came to a slope. Actually that was just the beginning of it. At the R&J I earned well in my last months there and was happy, but I threw it out because of Rachel. I knew deep down it wasn't fair, she never charged me such a thing, but what happened? She ended up in HBO, Santana inherited a billion dollar company, and I was screwed.
"Can I give you an honest opinion?" Santiago said quietly.
"What?" I was harsh. My mind and mood followed my physical exhaustion.
"Nothing." He grunted and crossed his arms.
"Now you talk."
"Oh, I don't know your crazy work schedule, but I know that this selection process is an opportunity. There are two ways to get in there. One is as an intern or apply for smaller functions. The other one is becoming big enough to the point that Bad Things would pay you some good money. I work my ass off there, Fabray, and earned a salary that only gives my part of the rent plus the meal tickets and transportation. You know that. But Bad Things has a great structure and damn worth to be part of it. I see you all frustrated taking photos of apartments. Dude, this is not for you. You're too cool to photograph a fucking wedding party or bathrooms. That's why I did that for you. The tests aren't so complicated. It's a test of general knowledge, a test of these psychological HR and a ten-minute interview. Then they call you again if you pass for the practice test, which is basically working there for a day. It's not a big deal. I know you can do it."
"I don't know, Tiago... I still need the money."
"They'll call you. Appearing there or not will be your problem."
…
(Rachel)
Another day of work at Little Shubert Theatre. I was excited about my TV career. Slings and Arrows debut received positive reviews from vehicles that mattered: New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Washington Post, Huffington Post. Besides the popular and necessary sites like Hollywood Reporter, E!, AV Club, Hit Fix, EW. The Rotten Tomatoes give Fresh 96% for our pilot. Although the audience was modest within a subscription channel like HBO, the word-of-mouth was strong and HBO was close to officially announce the second season. Hope I get a phone calling asking me for another round. It was a three months job that I earn fair and work with a great script, not to mention the production.
But my Broadway castmates didn't really care about my TV show success. Some of them went to the premiere, almost all congratulated me, but this subject died in the theater and I noticed that some didn't like when I was on the phone talking to someone from Hollywood. I learned quickly that if I sort these worlds out, everything is all right.
"Ahhhh!" Alisha screamed at center stage while we did a little stretching to begin rehearsals. "Freedom, freedom, freedom..." She started imitating George Michael and we all laughed.
"Guys." Otis, the assistant director, called the cast on stage to talk. We were all gathered, including veterans, extras and dancers. "Paul is still in Paris but he is finally getting here to take the direction next week, meanwhile, he asked us to work on the markings act in order to not disrupt the progress of the job."
Paul Diano was the main director, but he met with all cast only during the table reading. In the next day, he went overseas because of some congresses and commitments. He is known to be a very tough and thorough director, but say those who work with him, you always perfect something about acting in his hands.
The play started with me singing Life on Mars, so Otis suggested that we started work on the vocals. I positioned myself at the center of the stage, some of the cast around me and others positioned themselves in armchairs. I took a deep breath and tried to channel my character to find the correct interpretation.
"It's a God awful small affair / to the girl the mousey hair / but her mummy is yelling at! / And her daddy has told her to go / but her friend is no where to be seen / now she walks through her sunken dream / to the seats with the clearest view / and she's hooked to the silver screen / but the film is sadd'ning bore / for she's lived it have times or more / She Could spit in the eyes of fools / They ask her to focus on "
It was as if the theater disappeared, which was good for me because the original plan was go to the stage and sing at full pitch to make some impact on the audience.
"Sailors fighting in the dance hall / oh man! Look at those cavemen go / it's the freakiest show / take a look at the lawman / Beating up the wrong guy / Oh man! Wonder if he'll ever know / he's in the best selling show / is there life on mars?"
The last note was extended, and I got some applause from my colleagues. It was a relieved. If you commands respect with your voice among so many others with equally flawless technique, it is always a good sign.
"Very good, Berry!" Otiz was more restrained. "Well folks, after this opening gala, let's take ten."
That was when Gomez approached me for the umpteenth time. He asked me out at the premiere and I said maybe.
"You're awesome, Rachel. Great opening!" He said, append that sometimes I think that all the praise he directed at me had double meaning.
"Thank you."
"You should go out with him." Alisha passed us. "And get over with it once for all. It's getting tiring."
Well, why not?
"What's on your mind?" I asked.
"How about a drink? Maybe a movie?"
I left a text to my sister saying that I could get home later and accompanied Gomez to the nearest some bar he knew near the Little Shubert. Gomez wasn't a typical Latin tan skinned, like my father or Santana. Or even me. He was Argentine, white, with intense blue eyes and black hair. Gomez even was his first name. He showed me his I.D.: Heraclitus Gomez Diaz. His father was a professor of classical philosophy. His parents divorced when he was young and his mother remarried to an American. He came to America with his mother and stepfather at age six and has lived here ever since.
"I'm American. My father is Chilean and came to US a little older than you" I explained.
"Do you speak Spanish?"
"Tan facil como salgo a cantar." I laughed. "The Lopez family meetings are often in spanish, and sometimes my sister and I talk in Spanish at home just to practice. My father still talks a lot with us in Spanish. He speaks English perfectly, but at home, he likes to mix a few words."
"Why not chose Lopez as stage name. Or keep these two? Rachel Berry-Lopez sounds good."
"Roger Benz, my first boss, suggested Rachel Berry. He said that my full name wouldn't look good on Songbook's poster! I accept keep the Berry instead the Lopez by a tribute to my biological father."
"Amazing that you been raised by two gay parents."
"Actually, one was gay and the other is bi."
The conversation was pleasant and we decided to watch a movie. We saw the latest di Caprio's and I honestly thought that this time he would have his well deserved Oscar.
"Really?" Gomez questioned. "Michael Fassbender's performance was far superior."
"I haven't seen the Fassbender's, but I know him by movies that not attract me at all: X-Men, Prometheus… Not my style. "
"And what is your style?"
"Musicals, for example"
"Musicals?"
"I can't help but love it."
Gomez asked me for a drink, something to close the night. I accepted, after all, we were adults and a glass of wine before going home and talked trivialities wouldn't hurt anybody. That's when we kissed. Gomez was the first person since Quinn that I got involved that way I and found it odd. I was kissing a man, with a man body involving me in its arms. It's something quite different of what I was used to on the delicate, although strong, Quinn's body. It was tasty, but there was something out of place.
"Rachel Berry... you're beautiful."
"Thank you." I took a step back.
"Something wrong?"
"No... nothing is wrong."
He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and pulled me into another kiss. This time with a little more tongue. My heart raced, but not in a good way. Here was a handsome man kissing me, wrapping me in his arms and causing envy of anyone passing by us. Gomez was a good kisser within my understanding. There was physical pleasure that I couldn't deny, but there wasn't heart.
"Would you like to go at my place?" He asked.
"Don't you think we're going too fast?"
"Going fast is a problem to you? You are so sex and beautiful."
I never went to that path and I didn't like the idea of having one night stands. Still, I could try it once, I might even try to go with a man for the first time. Maybe it would be a worthwhile experience for my own sexuality to have a real cock inside me, since I've only been with Quinn. If you don't experiment, how do you know? Okay I didn't need drugs to know it was something harmful. But sex was something else and I never declared myself 100% gay, like Quinn. Even she had previous experiences with men. Well, she had a daughter with Noah. I looked at Gomez. He was a co-star and attractive. The theater was full of cases of coworkers who had casual sex and that's ok. But I didn't have the courage to be that impulsive. Not yet. It didn't seem right.
"I'll take a taxi. Good night, Gomez. It was a lovely date."
Once a car stopped in front of us, Gomez opened the back door and motioned for me to get in. I went home with thousands of thoughts swarming in my mind.
…
Santana was taking ages to drink her coffee. I hated when she did that. The normal was my sister just eats and comments a thing or two before go away and take care of her business, not slowly grab her coffee cup while staring at me as an Inquisitor. I was afraid of her at those times and felt again like the old Rachel from Ohio cornered by the popular bitch and domineering sister.
"Stop it!" I protested and she didn't flinch. "Stop looking at me like you are judging me."
"I'm not judging you, Rachel Barbra Berry-Lopez. I'm just sitting here at the table enjoying my breakfast. "
"Then stop staring at me."
"Who else I should look? To Philomena, the non-friendly little ghost who lives hiding my earrings?"
"Maybe if you put your jewelry and trinkets in one suitable place, Filomena, the non-friendly little ghost wouldn't show up."
"But Filomena, the non-friendly little ghost, is behind you, so I can't divert my gaze."
"Ok!" I thundered. "I was on a date with Gomez yesterday. Happy now?"
"Oh!" Even with a frank and direct answer, Santana continued with the same look. For five long minutes. I couldn't stand it.
"It isn't late for your class at Columbia or something?"
"What did you do wrong?" Now she was direct.
"What?"
"Eight months sharing space in the same belly, Ray. Do you think that the sixth sense works only with you? Did you fuck him?"
"We kissed, and he asked if I wanted to go to his place… I said no."
Santana sighed and went back to eating breakfast in silence.
"Hum! This means that you are willing to move on or something?"
"I... I... honestly, Santy? I don't know" I practically collapsed on the table. "Gomez is beautiful, and when he kissed me I felt he could provide me great pleasure if I allowed him. He is a good kisser, but there was no heart or any chemistry there. I felt weird at the end and it wasn't in a good way. I believed that my sexuality was fluid, that I was bi. Now I know nothing. Maybe my sexuality is fluid but Gomez is the wrong one. Anyway, I just wanted forget Quinn and move on. That's why I let the circumstances work."
"If this was the real reason I say that was a pretty risky move to someone who plans everything. I agree that you had to try since you're single. But if you tried to be with a guy and started to feel miserable like this, is more than time to draw conclusions. Many of people will appear in your life wanting to fuck you metaphorically and literally. It happened yesterday and won't be the first or the only time. So, don't play with chance if you're not prepared for it." She said with authority, pointing her finger at me.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because things like this happen every day. By chance, I had unprotected sex with Puck once. Incidentally, that's how your ex-girlfriend got pregnant to the same guy on her first very time! It could be me. I had casual sex with Izabella and that was ok. But then I had casual sex with Matt and he brought me trouble. Do you see my point? You kissed Gomez and it opens up a range of ways. And they all have a good or bad result. Be careful of what you choose."
My sister looked at her watch and rose from the table unceremoniously leaving dirty dishes to me wash everything. After cleaned the kitchen, I ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth and then entered the room to get ready.
"Now I'm late."
I called taxi and run to the rehearsals in the morning. And I was eager to meet Gomez. It was inevitable though. As usual, I wished a good day for all the theater's employees and crew I met on my way to my dressing room. I put comfortable clothes, looked at the mirror and pray a little bit as my everyday ritual.
I greeted my colleagues and I tried my best not to approach Gomez even though it was impossible. In the first time off, he surrounded on the way to my dressing room.
"I spent the night thinking about you. Of things we could do tonight if we go out again. I know a terrific place I would like to show you."
"I'm sorry, Gomez."
"What?"
"Last night was great, but I think we should keep it professionally. I'm not ready to relationships, even the casual ones. Not yet."
"Wow!" he raised his arms as if he wanted to keep things in control. "This is… wow Rachel. Ok. You're the boss. But know this is your loss."
Gomez turned his back. Wonderful way to build a healthy relationship with my castmates!
…
(Quinn)
I was going crazy with the discussions between the actor and the film's director. That short film could have great if Ryan was more incisive on what he wants. It's his film, his money, but his crew seems to impose ideas all the time. And Phill, the main actor, was another purgative. In the intervals between one and another take, my phone vibrated. Unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Is this Quinn Fabray's phone?"
"Yes. It's her."
"Here is Marta Gruber speaking, from Bad Things Productions. Your résumé was selected on our selection process for new interns and I would like to know if you're up for the second phase of this process?" My heart skipped a beat. All the talk I had with Santiago came to mind in a second.
"Of course I do! When?"
"Next Monday, October 19, 14h30."
"Monday at 14h30." I repeat.
"Do you know our address, Miss Fabray?"
"The office at the Madison?"
"Correct, 413 Madison, 6th floor."
"Thank you."
I looked at the crew of the short-film. Man, they suck. I started working again, but my mind was on this new opportunity.
…
(Santana)
I hated using cane. The physiotherapist insisted with the program, but I felt strong enough to walk normally. I still felt pain when I exaggerated, but nothing that a painkiller and fifteen minutes with your feet up not solve. At least the cane was a great excuse in time to play golf with Mr. Weiz. He called me to play a game with a friend businessman and his son who was about my age that studied at Yale. That old wolf wanted to do some investments off Weiz Co. His friend's company was no big deal, but the value of its property was the interesting part. And I needed to be there as "an organic way to him introduces me as his legitimate heiress. Using my cane was a good excuse to not play golf, but still I had to accompany them and listen to every conversation.
"How long have you been studying at Columbia, Santana?" Mr. Blaze tried to be casual while Grandpa Don Corleone Weiz made his move.
"I'm a junior and I'm majoring on Mathematics applied to Economics. I'll also minor on Management."
"I'm impressed." No he wasn't, but I wouldn't refute it.
"I still want to do some other specializations in graduate school."
"More time to study and no fun?" His son tried to snipe me.
"Wall Street runs."
Weiz laughed and patted my back.
"My granddaughter is kind of workaholic, but she know how to enjoy a good life."
God, I hated so much every time Weiz calls me "graddaughter". He was being very understanding to let me dedicate myself to my studies and Rock'n'Pano this semester before hanging myself once inside the Weiz Co, but I had to submit myself to these "family commitments". I didn't understand why only I had to attend it, and not Rachel, since she was the biological granddaughter.
I had to go to Weiz Co at least three times a week at the Department of Projects, It was a important area of the company precisely designed to apply new political strategies about image, advertising, internal and external relations, and optimize processes. As the Weiz had three arms business, strategic actions developed in the matrix were applied in the other sub-companies. For now, I showed up there to acquaint myself of the processes, but I wasn't working effectively yet. At least not until next semester.
Anyway, Weiz and Mr. Blaze close a deal that would lead a formal meeting days later. Meanwhile, it was my responsibility to take Blaze's son for a city tour, since I know the "places that young people like to go", as a rich guy needed it.
"Is he cute?" Rachel asked while I dressed up.
"Ordinary." I sighed. "It's just business, Ray. I'm going out to dinner with this guy just to please Weiz."
"And Johnny?"
"What about him?"
"Is he ok with it?"
"By chance he has to approve anything?"
"I thought you were... closer."
"Johnny is my friend and one of the artists I support on Rock'n'Pano. So, of course we are close." I cried aloud the mantra repeated to myself the last few weeks. "And this is business. I will go out with this guy, be nice most of the time, and dumb him."
"Really?" Rachel said ironic. "That cold?"
"What's your problem?"
"Why have you been so aggressive every time I ask about Johnny? It's been like that since the premiere. What happened?"
"We kissed!" I blew up and Rachel starred at me and put her hand on her month, clearly surprised.
"Oh my God! Why aren't you together? Didn't you like it?"
"It's quite the opposite."
"So?"
I finished my makeup and left my sister without an answer.
…
(Quinn)
Test of general technical knowledge? Honestly, when I went to Bad Things with Santiago and was placed in a room with no less than 36 candidates running for four seats, I almost panic. The selection processes happens two times a year always with the same format. And I thought they would take my resume and contact me by phone just because I was pretty and good. Silly me. The test was a nightmare because was asked issues involving everything from the conception of the idea to post-production. As a cinema student I knew a little of everything. But I was majoring on Cinematography and I some other concepts weren't that fresh in my mind.
If it was just movies, all right, but the test also had questions about the advertising world. That's because Bad Things is also an agency work for both purposes. This was even Santiago's great frustration there: he only works on commercials, and seems like BT films one every week. I knew nothing about advertising, but I thought in some coherent answers to what I knew of production.
The next step was to answer some boring questions like: "select the alternative that most closely resembles you" of those psychological tests where there is no right or wrong answer. Finally, it was given 15 minutes to solve a logic problem. All steps were measured time. The last stage of the day was the interviews. Two women called people one by one. They called a candidate every 10 minutes on average.
I was the third to be called by a woman named Pamela Brosson, who led most of the selection process.
"Do you have a relative or acquaintance who works at Bad Things productions?" It was the first question.
"Santiago Follet, who is an intern. He is my friend." I believe she didn't care about the position of influence of Santiago because the subject died there.
"When will you graduate from NYU?"
"Next year, I hope. But as Junior, I'm empowered to apply for internships opportunities."
"Tell me about your professional experience, Miss. Fabray."
"My first job in New York was as assistant of the production assistant of R&J. Over two years in business, I worked on the production of three musical plays, helped on a pre-production of the film "The Saint Woman", and on a personal short film by Roger Benz, my ex-boss."
"Why did you leave?"
"Personal reasons."
"Your resume says you won a college festival of short films, and was camera of Alan Gehl's documentary, still in post-production... There is something else?"
"I was intern on the studio associated with NYU that is used more the journalism class. My job there was editing videos and sometimes I worked as cameramen. Last week I direct the cinematography for the short film "Last Day", by Ryan Phillips. And I am part of the Rock'n'Pano's artistic team, which is a company that sells t-shirts, dishcloths, tablecloths and related things, but this is just a fun and creative freelancer." Everything I said, she wrote down and it gave me agony. "I also works to NY Blocks Estate Sales & Rent."
"Are you a real estate agent too?"
"No, I take photos of the houses and apartments and upload them to the company's website."
"How do you define yourself?"
"I don't know. That one is hard… I'm objective and professional. I'm not afraid of hard work and if I have some discussion, it is always aiming for the best result. I'm quiet, not necessary shy. Sometimes people get the wrong impression about me, that I am distant, maybe cold, but it's just how I am. In general, I'm friendly."
"Now tell me, Miss Fabray, why do you want to work with us?"
"To be honest, I have rent and bills to pay, and the salary as intern here might not be enough. But I'm willing to leave my current job and find another roommate to share the rent because being here is a unique career opportunity and it will worth. The Bad Things now works with the most attractive projects in my viewpoint and it would be a dream to be part of it."
"Do you believe you can make your name within the Bad Things?"
"I know I'll give the best of me. If I can make my name in here, well, I think this would be a result of all my efforts."
"Very well, Miss Fabray. We'll call you in two days. Have a good afternoon."
I greeted the interviewer, grabbed my purse and walked out of there a little fearful thinking that perhaps I had exaggerated in the tone of the interview. Because of time, I waited for Santiago for an hour on the couch in the reception to go home with him.
"So?" He asked me.
"I don't know, Tiago."
"Relax, Fabray. If I could get in, you will get in. Remember that you are the brain of our duo."
…
The Bad Things' secretary made sure that she would call to say either negative or positive response. After two days of anxiety the phone call came during one of my classes. A positive response meant a further step toward working on the more desirable company in the city and probably my resignation on my older job. A negative answer would mean that I should review some things about the career I chose.
So I took a breath and got up to answer the phone out of the room.
"Quinn Fabray speaking."
"Hello, Miss Fabray. Here is Pamela Brosson speaking, from Bad Things Productions. I would like to invite you to participate in the second part of our selection process. Could you attend the Madison's office 14:30 today?"
"Yes, I can."
"Great. We await you."
I jump three leaps with arms raised celebrating and next thing I knew, my colleagues had their necks stretched observing the scene at the door. That made me dowdy and red, but it didn't break my satisfaction. I called my boss to warned that I wouldn't work again. She threatened to fire me, but I didn't care. I hated that job anyway. I had lunch with Santiago in the college's cafeteria. It was the only place where we could have a meal for five dollars. All we needed to do was submit the student card.
"Do not panic." Santiago was eager too. "Don't be so proactive because they dismiss people who try to be too helpful."
"Okay."
"They will test you on the Photography Department, no doubt. But they probably give you a job that you're not too familiar. When I did mines, they made me organize costumes. I spent about three hours doing it, only because it's part of the Art Department."
"You told this story."
"So probably they will not send you to use the photoshop or take some pictures in the studio. They want versatility. "
"Tiago, breathe. I'm the one going to be tested, and looks like I'm not as nervous as you."
At the right time, we took a bus towards Madison. Santiago gave me an affectionate kiss on the cheek for good luck and I introduce myself to the receptionist. There were twelve people left who would be with four apprenticeship positions to win $800 with some benefits. There were three NYU's colleagues, one of them is my direct opponent on this.
"Guys." Pamela appeared to greet us. "This way, please."
She guided us to the same room we did the tests few days before.
"Okay, you were chosen for the second day of tests, congratulations. It means that you are the best of 147 candidates from New York City and other cities who tried this selection this semester. It means that whatever happens today, we know you are great and you will be on our waiting list, one that actually works, for other opportunities." She made a pause to take a sip of her water. "Today, each of you will receive this paper with some information about yourselves." She took a sample and lifted for all see it. "These tasks are related to activities that interns are engaged in the Bad Things. As you know, the intern does not meet a fixed task within the department. The processes are dynamic and we expect all our employees have this profile. You will be forwarded to the departments in which you sigh and give this sheet to the coordinator, who will decide the fate of each one of you in the Bad Things. We will announce the results tomorrow morning, so if you are chosen, please, come back here ASAP to solve the bureaucratic issues. Good luck to all and await my call. Now, go find your department and do your best."
There were four candidates for the photo department, including me. We found the room and Guth Bridges, one of my NYU's colleagues, introduced us all to the coordinator, who gave us pre-set tasks. Santiago was right when he said that they would try to place the candidate to do something that was not used. My job was to go up to across the street and talk with 'Animal'. So I did it. I knew Bad Things has a huge studio at New Rochelle that the company also rent the space for others productions from others studios and directors. And there is this small one in Manhattan, near the central office, for simpler productions.
"Excuse-me? I'm doing a test for a internship and I would like to talk with Animal" I said almost embarrassed for a middle-aged man.
"Oh, he's inside that room. You can go there."
I was nervous. I looked at my task. Grip. I could handled everything. But grip? Come on! That was so unfair.
"Mr. Animal?" I embarrassed asked a bearded man with long hair tied in a short ponytail. "I'm Quinn Fabray and I'm here for the internship test. They sent me here."
"How wonderful!" He smirked. "It's not every day they send a cute girl to dirty her hands in the machinery." He took my paper and gave a quick read. "Well, Fabray, here are the equipment and there's the studio. Now do what it's said right here."
"But… alone?"
"Yeah, alone. Take your time, but do it as fast as you can. Good luck!"
Fuck my life!
…
(Rachel)
You know that time I couldn't wait to work with Paul Diano, because he is an accomplished and award-winning theater director? One of those professionals who can take the best of each actor? I take that back. Paul Diano was a nightmare.
"Berry!" The director caught my attention during a scene in which my character takes her blouse off to her beloved before they make love for the first time. I hate this part of the play specially because Will Potter and I had zero chemistry.
"Yup?"
"Have you ever been naked on stage?"
"No sir, but I was already naked on-screen."
"I'm glad I'm not dealing with a prude! But been naked in a studio is fair different from been naked here! There, you are protected. Here you aren't. There, you can fake. Here you can hide yourself, do you understand?"
"I do, sir."
"Glad that you are listening. Now you need to seduce your partner and the audience in this scene. Not with vulgar and cheap sensuality, but with your innocence and sincerity and also with your boobs." I stayed silent waiting for the top of the scolding. "Now I ask you: what will you make it in a theater full of strangers if you act as a celibate door in the most romantic scene of the play?" he didn't yell, but his tone made me want to die.
"If the problem is my bra..."
"This is not about your bra, Rachel. You could be stark naked and masturbate in front of us right now that it would be robotic and unsexy. The whole process is wrong. You aren't feeling your character's passion. It seems that you are headless, out of the play, a robot. You are locked. Are you seeing this stupid fagot in front of you? He's not Will Potter, the jerk who owes me $50. He is the guy who you are in love. OK? So every time you step on this stage understand the passion that makes you want suck his dick as if your life depends on it. I don't care if out of this stage you hate the guy to death, because here, you love him! So show it!" Then he stood up and gestured for everyone else. "It's called acting, people. This is much more than sing like Ella or dance like Astaire."
Of course I wouldn't suck anyone's dick. What I had to do in the scene was taking of my blouse, and kiss him topless. That's it. But I do understand what he said about passion and desire. Unfortunately, he was right.
"Tem minutes, people!"
Do you know the scenes that the diva breaks all dressing room after a moment of anger? I wanted to break something, but not because I was angry with the director. I was angry of myself. I was getting so used to receiving compliments because of Across the Universe and Slings and Arrows. And then came this strong criticism from my own director and it shook me. And at one point that moved me very much: my sensuality. It's like I was reviving all those comparisons between me and my sister at school. It's like I hear Santana in a moment of her wickedness in saying that I born to play Willow: The Musical. Never Chicago or Cabaret.
So I took some deep breaths, cried a little, washed my face and went out of my dressing room.
I still waited half an hour to make one more attempt of the fateful scene. Was still far from ideal, but at least the director didn't called me celibate door again.
I received a text from Santana in the late afternoon. She said she would be home late because she was going to a karaoke bar. Then, she texted again asking if I wanted to meet her there. My day was bad and thought maybe I could join her in a glass of beer and sing a silly song to cure my blue. I needed it.
"Which bar?" - Rachel
"Wicked Willy's at Bleecker" - Santy
"I'll be there" - Rachel
I went straight there without loading any castmates. When I got to the bar, I saw a small group that seemed to do a private party, and I knew most of the people there. I saw Mike, and Santiago, and some Quinn's NYU friends. And then, I saw that Quinn was there. She was so gorgeous, and looked happy.
"Rachel!" Johnny met me at the door of the bar. "Cool that you also came."
I pulled him into a corner.
"What is going on?" I said watchful eyes to the group to see if they had noticed my presence. Quinn was raising a glass with others.
"Don't you know?" He frowned. "Quinn was called to work at place she wanted. Bad Things, I think that's the name… That's why we are all here: to celebrate."
"I'm not sure if I should stay here."
"Come on, Rach. It won't hurt if you stay and drink a glass of beer with her."
My hands were sweating. I felt a great happiness that she made it. I remember her talking about Bad Things an all opportunities that could arise working there. For me, Bad Things was just another office I could work on a production, but for Quinn, it was her dream job. It was really something to celebrate. Johnny held my hand and we approach the group partying.
"Look who showed up here..." Johnny said to Quinn and Mike.
Quinn was surprised to see me as I was surprised to be there.
"Hi" I timidly approached and gave a kiss on her cheek. I flustered and Quinn smiled. She was beautiful, although thinner.
"What a nice surprise, Rach."
"Santana told and I couldn't miss this celebration. Congrats, Quinn." I lied, but it was for a good cause.
"It's just an internship."
"Yes. It is, still you are at a place that you meant to be... I'm Proud." I looked to the side - "Hi Mike." I hugged him. Since Quinn and I break up that he stopped to go to my house or even call me. It makes sense once he chose his side. And he chose be Quinn's friend, not mine.
"Glad to see you, Rach. You look good."
"Same to you, Mike. I missed you."
"Me too."
"So, Rach." Quinn said. "Do you want a drink? It's on me."
"I do. One drink is fine."
Santana arrived half an hour later. She hugged Quinn and Mike, but acted awkward around Johnny. I wanted to understand what happened in the premiere night between these two. They kissed, all right, but what more? Santana wasn't the kind of girl that would be uncomfortable with a friend for only kiss him on the lips.
The bar owner opened the stage. Some Quinn's colleagues and other guests started to sing. I was feeling blue and came to my mind an old song by Big Star that papi loved. So I went up on stage and said nothing but sing my heart.
"I'm in love with a girl / Finest girl in the world / i did not know i could feel this way / think about her all the time / always on my mind / i did not know about love / All that a woman should do is true / i'm in love with a girl / finest girl in the world / i did not know this could happen to me."
I left the stage and people applauded me, but I had mixed feelings because of that bad day at the rehearsals, because of Quinn and this meeting without a fight. Then I realized that this was the first time I met her since our breakup that we talked normally, without bitterness, ironies and accusations. Just like two good friends. And it confused me as hell.
"Santana!" I pulled my sister, who was drinking a beer next to Mike. "I'm not feeling well. I'm going home."
"I'll go with you. Just give me ten minutes." I nodded. I said goodbye to Johnny and waited my sister outside the bar.
"Rachel?" Quinn was behind me.
"Hey."
"I've been thinking..." she was nervous and rubbed the ring. It was a quirk she had. "I'm so glad that you showed up. And from the little we talked here made me really happy. We used to talk about everything we did throughout the day and I missed it so much. So I wonder if I could call you just to talk. I know I said we could never be just friends, but the truth is that I miss our friendship independently of our relationship."
"I would love to talk with you in a friendly way, Quinn." She shined when she smiled like that.
"Thank you. Thanks for coming. You have no idea how this is important to me."
"I'll call you… tomorrow. Could be?"
"Yes. It's… perfect."
Santana left the bar. My sister said goodbye with a hug Quinn and we got in the taxi. Suddenly I wasn't feeling blue anymore. My heart was warm.