Scarlett sat on the edge of the silk-sheeted bed that felt too luxurious for her tired body. In her lap, the black folder with the gold JTC Management logo felt heavy, not because of its physical appearance, but because of the weight of expectations and Julian's citrus and leather scent that still faintly clung to its surface.
"A beach girl like you..." Scarlett repeated Julian's words with a suppressed sneer.
She was offended, of course. Julian treated her as if she were just sea foam that had washed up onto the concrete land of Manhattan without a plan. However, behind the pain, there was another vibration that was difficult for her to tame. Fear mixed with a glimmer of painful hope. Scarlett slowly opened the folder. Her fingers trembled as they caressed the names of elite agencies and exclusive audition schedules that thousands of girls trying their luck in Times Square could usually only dream of.
This wasn't just a favor, thought Scarlett. This is a test.
She knew Julian gave it as a ticket out. The man wanted Scarlett to succeed quickly so she could leave immediately. However, when she looked at her reflection in the large mirror in the corner of the room, with eyes that were still a little puffy but held a fire that had not yet extinguished, Scarlett clenched her fists.
"I'm not leaving because you kicked me out, Julian," she whispered to her reflection in the mirror. "I'm leaving after I prove that this girl from Carmel has a place under the spotlight, not out of pity, but because I deserve it."
The next morning, Victoria's house felt more alive. Scarlett woke up early, accustomed to the rhythm of dawn in California. She felt uncomfortable just staying in the room like a noble guest, so she dared to go downstairs.
The dark granite kitchen floor gleams beneath the crystal chandelier. Scarlett stood awkwardly when she saw two household staff busy.
"Good morning," said Scarlett with the friendliest smile she had. "Can I... help with something? Maybe make some coffee?"
One of the staff, a middle-aged woman named Martha, looked at Scarlett in a friendly but surprised manner. "Oh, Miss Scarlett, you don't need to bother. This is our job."
"Please, just call Scarlett. In Carmel, I used to work in a coffee shop. I felt strange just sitting still," Scarlett insisted.
Scarlett, accustomed to old, noisy manual coffee machines, felt completely stupid when faced with Victoria's state-of-the-art espresso machine that had more buttons than an airplane dashboard. When she tried to press a button that she thought was "Start", the machine actually made a loud hissing sound and sprayed steam of hot milk into the air.
"Oh, my gosh! Sorry!" Scarlett panicked, her hands moved wildly trying to stop the steam, but instead accidentally touched the coffee maker container
Until the contents spilled onto the clean marble floor.
In a corner of the hallway hidden by shadows, Julian stood silently. He had been up since earlier, wearing a plain white t-shirt and dark jeans. Initially, he wanted to go down to get water, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw the scene in the kitchen.
He watched Scarlett who was now kneeling on the floor, busy picking up coffee grounds with her face red with embarrassment, while repeatedly apologizing to Martha. There was something strange in his chest when he saw Scarlett's chuckle when she laughed at her own carelessness. The girl didn't look fake. There are no cameras filming her, no audience for her to impress, but she is still the same girl who saved his grandmother on the street.
Julian squinted. Inner conflict begins to rage. Part of him still wants to believe that this is a really neat long-term act, but another part, the deeper and more honest one, is starting to falter. He saw pure sincerity in the way Scarlett helped Martha wipe the floor, as if she was not a star candidate, but just a caring human being.
"You're still here," Julian's deep voice startled Scarlett who was drying her hands near the sink.
Scarlett turned around, her heart skipping a beat. She tried to make her facial expression as flat as possible. "I still have an appointment with Madam Victoria to stay for a few more days, Mr. Caldwell. Unless you want to drag me out right now."
Julian walked over, took an apple from the fruit basket on the island table. He bit into it slowly, his eyes never leaving Scarlett. "That's pretty bold of you to talk like that after almost blowing up my grandmother's favorite coffee machine."
Scarlett's cheeks heated up. "It was a small accident. That machine was too...technological for a coffee."
"Just like New York," Julian replied sharply but there was a lighter tone of sarcasm this time. "It's too technological and complicated for people who rely solely on good intentions."
Scarlett didn't want to lose. She folded her arms in front of her chest. "Good intentions are the foundation. Technique can be learned. I read the contents of the folder last night. Thank you. I will prove that your assessment of 'having no star aura' is completely wrong."
Julian stopped chewing. He stared at Scarlett in silence for a long time. A subtle tension began to fill the gap between them. They were only separated by a marble table, but the atmosphere felt like a silent theater stage before the curtain opened.
"We'll see," Julian said finally, his voice lower. He turned and left, but there was a split second pause in his steps before he completely disappeared, as if there was something he wanted to say but he swallowed it back.
That afternoon, the reality of New York hit Scarlett right in the face. She tried to contact an old acquaintance of her sister's who worked in a mid-sized artist management company in Brooklyn.
"Hello? Yes, this is Scarlett. I'm the younger sister of..."
"Sorry! We're not accepting new talent from out of town. Just email your portfolio, but don't expect much. New York is full," clicked. The phone was disconnected unilaterally.
Scarlett stared at her cracked cell phone screen with bated breath. She tried calling two other numbers she had, but the result was the same: ignored or flatly rejected. The world of entertainment here doesn't care how heroic the actions were on the streets yesterday. Here, it is just one of millions of unknown numbers.
She sat on the sofa in the quiet living room, her shoulders slumped. The feeling of sadness began to creep up, but she didn't want to cry. She has to be strong.
Victoria appeared from the inner garden, carrying several freshly picked rosebuds. "Your face is cloudy, darling. Even though the sky in New York is bright."
Scarlett smiled bitterly. "Just… a bit of harsh reality, madam. It turns out talent alone isn't enough."
Victoria sat beside her, placing her warm hand on Scarlett's. "Of course it's not enough. You need the right stage. Julian didn't give you that list for no reason. Use his name if necessary."
"I want to do it under my own name," Scarlett emphasized.
Victoria chuckled. "That's what makes you interesting. But listen, tomorrow there's an audition for an indie film called 'The Silent Heart'. It's on Julian's list. I want you to go there. And I'll ask Julian to accompany you."
"What?! No, Madam! He will ruin my concentration with his cynical gaze!"
"Or," Victoria winked, "he'll be the most honest observer you've ever had. Julian needs to see you in action, Scarlett. He needs to be reminded why he used to love this world."
That evening, Julian was in his dimly lit study. He sat in front of the computer screen, looking at the news about him which was always full of speculation. 'Julian Caldwell: The Untouchable Cold Actor.' He massaged the bridge of his nose. His career was at its peak, but he felt empty. There's a reason why he's so protective of his privacy, why he's so cynical about new people. His past is filled with people who only loved their reflection on the screen, not him.
Suddenly, he heard a sound from the small practice room next to his room. It was a soundproof room, but the door was slightly ajar.
Julian stepped closer. Inside there, under a single spotlight, Scarlett was standing. The girl didn't notice his presence. Scarlett was holding the script from the audition for The Silent Heart which she found in a folder.
Scarlett started to speak. She is performing a monologue of a girl who has lost her way in the big city.
Her voice changed. Her vibrations, her intonation, even the way her shoulders trembled slightly when she said the dialogue about loneliness... it was so real. Scarlett is not acting; she was pouring all her pain from being pickedpocketed, her longing for Carmel, and the feeling of inferiority she felt in this house into words.
Julian froze in the doorway. His breath hitched. He is a world class actor, he knows which acting is technical and which has "soul". And Scarlett... this girl has an overflowing soul. Her natural talent is raw, unhoned, but so strong that it can penetrate Julian's thickest walls of defense.
As Scarlett ended her monologue with a soft whisper, she looked down, letting her hair cover her face.
"Use your breath at the end of that sentence. Don't let it just disappear," Julian's voice broke the silence.
Scarlett gasped violently, almost dropping her manuscript. "Mr. Caldwell! How long have you been there?"
Julian walked into the room, closing the door behind him. The small room suddenly felt very cramped. He walked closer to Scarlett, stopping right in front of her. They were so close that Scarlett could see the tiredness in Julian's blue eyes, but there was also a new sparkle there.
"Just now," Julian lied. He took the script from Scarlett's hand. "You have potential. But you use too much feeling. You will be destroyed if you do every scene like that."
"What's wrong with feelings?" Scarlett challenged, her face looking up at Julian.
"In this industry, feelings are a commodity. You have to be able to control them, not be controlled by them," Julian took another step. His hand rose, as if he wanted to smooth Scarlett's hair, but he stopped halfway and switched to holding the girl's shoulder to correct her posture. "Straighten your shoulders. You are not a victim. You are an actress."
Julian's touch on her shoulder felt like an electric shock. Scarlett looked into Julian's eyes, looking for lies there, but all she found was an intensity that made her knees weak. The atmosphere became very quiet, the only sound was the sound of someone's heartbeat.
The eye contact lasted longer than it should have. Scarlett felt her world shift. This man was no longer just a poster on her wall; he was a real storm, cold but at the same time providing unexpected warmth.
"Grandma wants me to accompany you to the audition tomorrow," Julian finally said, his voice now hoarse. "I'll go. Not because I want to help you, but because I want to see for myself when you realize that New York isn't as easy as that monologue."
Julian let go of Scarlett's shoulder and turned around, walking towards the door. But before leaving, he stopped without turning around.
"Wear the dress that's on your bed. Grandma prepared it. Don't wear that baggy sweater if you want to be taken seriously."
The door is closed. Scarlett stood still, her fingers touching the shoulder that Julian had been holding. She felt mixed feelings, angry because of Julian's orders, but also a strange feeling that made him smile without realizing it.
Tomorrow is her first audition. And she knew Julian Caldwell would be watching her from the darkness of the bleachers. Scarlett took a deep breath, looking at her manuscript with renewed vigor. She is ready to face the new world. And maybe, she is also ready to face Julian.