It was a vain attempt trying to stay awake on the bus, and Anna tried her hardest to refrain from nodding off. Lest she become devoured by another nightmare, or miss her stop to the office, whichever came first. The muggy bus air and stench of diesel weighed on her eyelids, but a voice calling her name jolted her awake.
"Anna Miller?"
She looked up at the source, a teenage girl, with brown hair and freckles.
"You're Anna Miller, right?"
Anna blinked once, before forcing a smile at her, "Um, yes?"
"Oh wow, on the bus," the girl gasped, shaking Anna's hand and plopping next to her, "I caught Brooklyn Dreams the other day with some friends."
This time, Anna's lips curled into a genuine smile, as the girl recounted every scene she played. It didn't take long.
"...and I've no idea how you do it, or if you've even been acting for a while. But every line you spoke, every little mannerism just dragged us deeper and deeper and we couldn't stop talking about it after the show-"
"I'm….I'm actually new to Hollywood," Anna confessed, blood rushing behind her face, "and acting, in general."
The girl pulled out a postcard of the film, "Would you be so kind as to autograph a picture? It's not much, but I was going to put this up to remind myself to be kind to my sister, because it's so easy to let everything get away from us sometimes. Oh my god, I cried so hard at that final scene-"
Anna stared at the vivid technicolour-hued postcard and marker in her hands. Elsa's face was plastered right in the centre, alongside the lead actor. Her face was relegated in the bottom corner together with the supporting cast. Her hands began to tremble, as though the film was a dream she never really woke up from. Anna stared at the vibrant red lipstick on Elsa's lips, and her face flushed with warmth.
"Sure!" Anna complied, signing her name above her face. In the corner of her eye, she noticed the film studio's bus stop coming up.
"Thank you so much! I can only wish there were more actresses like you," the girl chimed, shaking Anna's hand again, "good luck with the Oscars!"
The Oscars.
As Anna trotted to the studio office, it took her a full minute to recollect what the Oscars were. In her quest for perfection, the thought of winning an award issued by stiff-faced men in suits seemed as absurd to her as the moon being made out of cheese. Yet, the random girl's recognition of her talent put an inexplicable smile on her face. One she had trouble mustering ever since Elsa left her side weeks ago, never to be seen again.
"You look happy," Kristoff observed, showing her into his office. Piles of film reels littered the spalling carpets, and the shelves were overflowing with manuscripts and dusty books.
"I…I am happy," Anna said, with a curtsy, "thank you for everything you've done for me so far."
"Something tells me it's not just your career making you happy," Kristoff said, arms folded behind him, "found yourself a boy, haven't you?"
Anna looked down at her feet. Her pulse quickened.
"No, sir. I've been busy at work," Anna replied, fiddling with her dress.
"Or perhaps it is a girl that's caught your fancy?" Kristoff asked, voice deepening, "a woman?"
The breath caught in Anna's throat, and she struggled to breathe. She clenched her fists behind her, fighting off the urge to hyperventilate. Lips pursed in a line, Anna could only shake her head as Kristoff's intense stare burned into her with the sun's fury. All of a sudden, a seething bubbling pool of rage boiled within Anna. What was so wrong? What was so wrong about Elsa being the object of her affections? Wasn't her image plastered on billboards all across America for men and women to gawk at? What was so wrong about being the object of Elsa's sentiments? Were they not both humans, with fears and desires and a desperation to feel some deep fulfilment in this shallow industry?
"I trust you'll use your discernment when interacting with your fellow cast members," Kristoff advised, his gaze softening, "things can be complicated around Hollywood."
Anna flexed her fingers behind her, contemplating arguing with Kristoff, but finding only the courage to mutter, "Was there something you wanted to see me for?"
Kristoff stared at Anna, and for the first time, felt sympathy for the girl. Here was an artist - who poured her heart and soul into every performance, big or small, and never asked for anything in return other than another shot. A director's dream. But she was too pure for this town, too naive, almost. A part of him longs to tell her about the nomination, but he kept his mouth shut, only handing her a script.
"I'm giving you a chance to turn this down," Kristoff said, "might be a bit intense for you."
Her eyes lit up at the neatly bound and typewritten script in her hands, and she wasted no time in scanning the pages. Slowly, a fictitious world wove its spell around Anna. Her head felt light, as though it were floating on clouds, before it weighed down on her soul like lead. She found herself slumping backwards onto a musty fabric armchair, eyes still roving across the pages.
The realisation set into Anna halfway through the script. This film was more than a petty family drama, or some silly criminal thriller. This project would consume her whole, and send her down the path of no return. Like walking down a dark forest trail people spoke about in hushed voices about children who never came back. There'd certainly be no coming back from this one. No turning back either. Already, Anna could feel its tentacles extending its grasp over her soul. In the universe of the script, her world darkened, until she could only hear her heart thumping, begging her to turn this down. But alas, like a black hole sucking all life and light around its core, Anna found herself falling deeper and deeper into its plot.
Kristoff, uncomfortable with the intense silence and worried about the girl's face going white, piped in.
"I think you're ready for a leading role but there weren't any available. This one's still a supporting role, so you may not be interested-"
His words flew past her as she flipped through the final few pages. Oblivious to the fact that she'd been holding her breath for an entire minute, it took her several tries to breathe normally again - before she shot him a glare.
"I'll do it."