It had taken me all night to pack my things. Zach and Daisy were clingy, bombarding me with so many questions that the first hour was spent answering them.
"Which film are you auditioning for?"
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"Does it make us less siblings that we have different fathers?"
"Please don't go. We'll convince Dad in the morning."
I answered honestly since there was no point in hiding anything now. Eventually, they understood I had to leave. They helped me pack my essentials and some of my clothes, though I had too many from modeling gigs to take them all.
"Look on the bright side," I told Zach with a grin. "Now you get your own room. And my clothes."
Dad had mentioned moving Zach in with me months ago, since he and Daisy were getting older. I'd talked him into waiting until I left for college. Guess that didn't matter now.
Zach's eyes lit up. "Really? I can take your stuff?"
Daisy stomped on his foot, making him yelp. "Here I'm trying to convince him not to go, and you!"
I chuckled at their antics before answering Zach's question. "If it fits, go wild. Same for you, Daisy."
She gave a small nod before asking the one question I couldn't answer: "Where will you go?"
Crashing at a friend's place was tricky since they all lived with their parents. I didn't need some "adult" dragging me back here or lecturing Dad.
"A motel, for now," I said after a pause. "I've got enough savings to stay a month. After that… depends on whether I get the movie."
"If you do, can I come to the island with you?" Zach asked with a glint in his eyes.
"Not without Dad's permission," I said. "Or I'd get arrested for kidnapping. And you know he'd call the cops in a heartbeat."
I stood and pulled them into a final hug. "Take care of each other and do well in school. I'll call when I can, okay?"
With one last wave, I left my teary-eyed siblings behind. Dad was still passed out on the couch. Normally, one of us would've hauled him to bed, but not tonight. Not after the shit he pulled.
Outside, the sky was lightening fast. I needed to find a place to crash soon. After yesterday, I was exhausted, both in body and soul.
(Break)
"Holy Moses!" Michelle swung the door open with a grin. "Didn't expect you this soon, especially on a Sunday. Don't tell me you got the role?"
"Not yet," I said, matching her smile. "I tried calling, but your phone was dead."
"Ugh." She rolled her eyes. "Phone line's screwed. The company was supposed to fix it yesterday, but here they are. Now come in and tell me everything."
I followed her inside and sank into the couch she pointed to.
"I need your help," I blurted. No point dancing around it.
"With what?"
"The audition went well. Really well." I hesitated. "I have contact with an insider, who says I'm a finalist. There will be a chemistry test next."
"That's fantastic!" Michelle clapped her hands. "But why do you need me? I've already drilled you on everything."
"Here's the thing." I leaned forward. "The director wants me, but they're worried my acting's not strong enough. No clue if the other two are better."
"Makes sense." She nodded. "You improved more in five days than most amateurs do in weeks, but yeah, five days isn't exactly a masterclass."
"Right. So I need more lessons."
"I'll be happy to give you more lessons," she said, beaming.
"There's just a small problem." I winced. "I can't pay you."
"Oh." Her smile dimmed.
For a second, I considered telling her the truth about how my modeling money was bleeding dry between training, nutrition, motel rent, my siblings' expenses, and my Harvard fund. But I didn't want pity. If she declines me, she does.
"I'll pay you back if I book the role," I rushed on. "But if I don't—"
"Relax." She cut me off. "We'll work together. You pay only if you land the role. Deal?"
"You're sure?"
"Kid, you're getting that role." Her certainty was so fierce, I almost believed her.
"How are you so confident?" I laughed. "Heck, I'm not."
"Call it a hunch." She smirked. "I might be a bitch, but I look after my pups. And you? I'll make you my top dog."
A grin tugged at my lips before I could stop it. "Thank you."
Continuing lessons with Michelle wasn't a decision I'd made lightly. After leaving home, I'd crashed at a motel, but sleep never came, just an hour of restless tossing. The fight with Dad, the goodbye to my siblings, it all played on loop in my head until the truth clawed its way out:
I wanted to be an actor. For real.
Even if only for this one film. Even if only to prove to the world and to myself that I can do it.
That competitive streak from my first life hadn't faded. No one got to tell me what I couldn't do. Ever. And though Dad had kicked me out, part of me still burned to show him what I could achieve without his blessing.
"Alright," Michelle clapped her hands. "Studio. Now."
"Right now?" I blinked. I hadn't come here with the intention to have an immediate session. It was Sunday, her day off.
"No time like the present." She shrugged. "Unless you've got something better to do?"
I didn't. Sunday was my rest day, so I had no training scheduled for today. I would have gone with my friends to chill out at an arcade or something, but all my friends lived quite close to my home, and I didn't even want to go in the same area at the risk of running into Dad.
"Let's go," I said after a few moments.
I'd meant what I said about not paying Michelle, for now. But if I booked this film or landed another Speedo-level gig? Every penny would find its way back to her.
As per my current savings, I could attend Harvard for three years without working. If the film fell through, a few more modeling gigs before September could stretch it to four, though only time will tell about that far in the future.
(Break)
The next few days, I drowned myself in swim training and acting drills. The one perk—or curse—of living in 1979 was that Dad couldn't call me even if he wanted to due to the lack of cell phones.
I checked on Zach and Daisy from payphones when I knew he'd be out, never telling them where exactly I was. Not even my friends knew; I couldn't risk anyone guilting me into going back.
I had called Paige once, just to tell her not to ring the house anymore. It was also to make sure she would call at the motel to give me the details of my second audition. I didn't ask for a second date, and she didn't push. We both knew I had no time. Though I promised to go out with her on a second date after the upcoming audition.
I took one low-paying gig from Jordan, the one I couldn't do last week. I had almost turned it down because my schedule was brutal, but desperation won in the end. Every dollar kept my savings intact.
Michelle was her usual drill-sergeant self, and every lesson peeled back another layer of acting I hadn't known existed. Her critiques were brutal but never cruel, each barb came with precise instructions on how to improve. Still, sometimes she'd drop a bombshell that left me reeling, like today's final session before my audition.
"You want me to do what?" I choked.
"You heard me." She didn't blink. "I want you to perform all your scenes today in the buff. It's not an order, but a strong suggestion."
"Why?" I asked, bewildered.
I had so much respect for her. But right now? I wasn't sure exactly what was going through her head. Is she some kind of pervert?
"Because you skipped drama school," she said, like it was obvious. At my blank stare, she sighed. "This is the first-week exercise at any decent program. Acting's all about stripping yourself bare, emotionally and physically. It also builds trust with your fellow actors and trainers. Normally, I'd skip this, but your film's got skin in the game, and quite a lot at that. Better to freak out now than on set with fifty crew members staring at your junk and placing bets on how soon you'll pop a boner."
It made a sick kind of sense. The Blue Lagoon wouldn't exactly be shy about showing some skin.
I unbuttoned my shirt with stiff fingers, then my trousers. My underwear made me pause, but only for a second. Commit or quit. Soon enough, even that joined the pile of my clothes on the floor.
I had to give it to Michelle; she was all business. No lingering looks, no awkward jokes. And once the initial shock wore off, it wasn't so bad. Modeling had already hardened me to bold shoots. When we neared the two-hour mark, I'd stopped caring she was there. If they demanded that I do an audition in the buff tomorrow, I'd shrug and strip. Heck, I could probably pass an audition for a porno shoot if it came to that.
"Can I dress now?" I asked.
"Sure." She crossed her arms. "As soon as you do that, kiss me."
My brain short-circuited. "What?"
"Kiss me like you mean it," she deadpanned. "It's a romantic film, genius. You think the chemistry test involves thumb wrestling?"
"But—" I floundered, "you're my mother's age. I respect you too much."
She grinned. "Don't tell me you've never kissed your mom? I kissed my kids daily when they lived with me."
"That joke was terrible," I rolled my eyes. "Next, you'll claim you slept with them, too?"
"Of course!" Michelle shot back, unfazed. "We shared a bed all the time. Until they abandoned their poor old mother to this cruel world."
I gaped at her. "You're a demon for twisting something so pure."
"No, you're the demon for going there," she countered effortlessly. "Enough stalling. Get dressed, then kiss me like you mean it, or we're done for today. Your time, your loss."
One thing I had come to realize about her was that you could never win an argument with her because she was always right. Once dressed, I closed the distance between us, only for her hand to slam against my chest.
"You're doing it wrong."
I groaned audibly. "I haven't even kissed you yet."
"Exactly." She cradled my face, her voice sharp. "It didn't look like you loved me. If you can make me believe you're in love with me, an old hag, you can convince anyone. For experienced actors, chemistry is nothing but them being very good at faking it well. These casting directors and filmmakers go on and on about how two actors lacked chemistry, it simply means at least one of them is a bad actor."
"Then how do I fake it?"
"Have you ever loved someone?"
I had. Once in a lifetime. But fate was so cruel that all memories of her had been erased from my head. I know I had a girlfriend whom I wanted to marry, but beyond that, I couldn't remember anything.
In my current life, I have been with many girls physically, but ever since Mom betrayed Dad, I haven't gathered the courage to commit to someone.
"Not really," I admitted. "Relationships, sure, but they were more... physical."
Michelle groaned. "Teenagers these days. Everything's about sex for you." She paced away, then spun back. "Fine. Imagine the girl you're kissing is the most beautiful creature alive. Losing her would destroy you. You'd burn the world to keep her safe, scale mountains, drown oceans, walk through fire. Can you picture someone that precious?"
I closed my eyes. In the darkness, she took shape: silken skin, full lips, eyes wide with innocence, a smile that lit up worlds. A girl with a heart so pure she'd move heaven and earth for me, just as I would for her. My arms ached to shield her from life's cruelties, to hold her safe forever.
"Good." Michelle's voice barely registered. "Now open your eyes. She's right here."
I obeyed, superimposing my imaginary lover onto Michelle's face. The longer I looked, the more real it became, the curve of her cheek, the warmth in her eyes. "Kiss me."
This time, I didn't hesitate. Our lips met with a hunger that surprised me, moving in perfect sync. When I pulled back to gaze at her, the words spilled out unbidden: "God, you're beautiful."
Then I kissed her again, drowning in the contradiction since it meant everything and nothing at once. I could've lost myself forever if not for that small nagging voice at the back of my head warning me to stop. With some effort, I broke away from her.
Michelle staggered back, breathless. "Whoa. You're... damn good at that, brat. It'll play brilliantly on screen."
Just like that, the spell shattered. This wasn't my lover, just my teacher. "Thank you, ma'am," I stressed, more to remind myself than her.
"That's all you need for now." She glanced at the clock. "And right on time. You're more than ready for tomorrow."
Still dazed, I only nodded. Had it been simulated love... or something darker? Obsession? Adoration? The lines blurred. Normally, I'd have recognized Michelle's rare praise—her compliments were usually barbed. This was different.
"Hey." She touched my arm gently. "Go rest. Do exactly what you did here tomorrow, and the role will be yours. I can guarantee it to you."
As I stepped into the evening air, one thought consumed me: Was I even acting today? Or was it something else?
(Break)
The casting studio's waiting area smelled like stale coffee and sweat. They really needed to invest in some room freshener, if I were being honest. I leaned back in my chair, legs stretched out, watching the circus unfold around me.
One thing Michelle had drilled into me from our first session was that I couldn't show nervousness, something I already knew from past job interviews. Employers are more likely to hire you if you act like you don't care whether you get the job or not.
I knew this was the final leg of auditions because Christopher Atkins, who played the role originally, sat across from me, flashing that toothpaste-ad smile at anyone who walked by. He was my biggest competition.
In the corner, I spotted Sean Penn, a future Oscar winner, around my age and deep in his brooding artist routine: jaw clenched, muttering lines under his breath like he was preparing for Shakespeare instead of some tropical romance. Watching his dedication, I wondered why they even hired Atkins in the first place.
Then there were the girls.
Brooke Shields sat like a goddamn princess, flipping through a magazine like she was waiting for a manicure instead of a screen test. Beside her, Jodie Foster scribbled notes like her life depended on it. Smart, but trying way too hard. And then there was Tatum O'Neal, the youngest Oscar winner in history, sprawled in her chair like she owned the place.
I guess winning an Oscar gives you an ego.
"Ugh, why do they always make us wait?" Tatum whined, kicking her legs.
"Maybe they're trying to see who cracks first," I joked.
Tatum shot me a sharp look, the kind meant to put someone in their place. I merely raised an eyebrow, silently asking, That all you got?
She didn't hold my gaze for long.
"I'm sorry I'm late! I got lost!"
The studio door swung open, and in walked a face that seemed familiar, yet not quite. A really pretty redhead with light freckles across her face, features that only made her more striking.
I had seen all three other actresses in my current life, so I recognized them instantly. But this newcomer? Not right away.
"It's alright, Julie," Paige assured her in a calm voice. "The auditions haven't begun yet. Relax. Why don't you take a seat? It'll be a while before you're called in."
Julie sighed in relief, but uncertainty clouded her expression. She hesitated, scanning the room for a place to sit. All three other girls seemed hostile, not even looking in Julie's direction. Of the boys, Sean was deep in his preparation, while Chris was smiling lecherously at her. Finally, her eyes landed on me.
To this day, I don't know why I did it, but I motioned for her to sit beside me.
And the best part? She actually did.
"Hi," I said, offering a handshake with a confident grin. "I'm Noah Hunter."
"I'm Julie Anne Smith," she said warmly, shaking my hand. "But please, call me Julie."
And just like that, it clicked.
She was Julianne Moore, one of the best actresses of her generation.
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AN: Read up to 40 advanced chapters on my website, or check out my other story, Dreams of Stardom.
Link: www(dot)fablefic(dot)com