I Married a Master(15)
Author: Melanie Marchande

"I’ve got nothing else to work on," I insisted.

"But what’s your plan to fall back on? I mean, you’re not going to act forever – right?"

He said it so matter-of-factly that I wondered if he even knew what he was implying.

"Sorry?" I frowned, pretending like I hadn’t understood. Giving him a chance to dig himself out.

"I mean…come on." He let out a little laugh. "It’s not supposed to be a long-term career, is it? What are you planning on doing in a couple decades? When, uh…"

My lips thinned as I stared at him.

"When, uh, what exactly?" I said, finally, as he worked his jaw open and closed a few times. "When I get too old?"

"That’s not me saying that," he cut in, quickly. "That’s just…that’s how things work, isn’t it?"

He was seriously committing to this. Okay. Fine.

"Oh yeah, sure, I forgot." I laughed a little. "Maggie Smith, Helen Mirren, Judi Dench, you never heard a damn thing from them, once they were out of their thirties. Such a shame. Wasted talent."

"Come on, Jenna." He was raising his voice slightly. "Why do you always have to take things in the worst possible way? I’m just trying to say that maybe you’d do better if you weren’t hanging all of your hopes on one thing that’s probably not going to work out in the long term. That’s just realistic. It’s not because you’re not talented, I’m sure you are, it’s not because you’re a woman, it’s just…things don’t always work out. You should get used to that idea, because trust me, that’s one thing not even a Scrooge McDuck pool of money can change."

There was a real bitterness in his voice, and it had nothing to do with me. But I was the one on the receiving end up of his cold glare, and I’d had enough.

I stared down at the box he had clutched in his hand. "Magnum XL? Are you sure that’s really necessary?"

"Oh, ouch." He clutched his hand to his chest, smirking.

I gritted my teeth into a smile. "What? I’m just being realistic. Statistically, do you know how many men actually need extra-large condoms?"

"Never researched it." He folded his arms across his chest. "If you don’t believe me, I have several references you could call."

Rolling my eyes, I turned away from him. But I had to give the guy credit for not offering to show me A lesser man would have.

God damn it, stop trying to make excuses for him.

"Give me your number, and I’ll prove it for real," he called after me as I walked away.

Well, so much for that.

***

I spent the next two weeks not thinking about Ben.

I didn’t think about him while I made Laura her lunch, helped her arrange her Little People by profession and hairstyle, and prevented her from attempting to cut off her Barbie doll’s hair with a nail file she’d somehow found wedged behind the bathroom vanity. After I told Maddy and Daniel about that, they spent about twenty minutes blaming each other for letting it fall down there and forgetting about it, and I just quietly assured them it was completely normal, that I’d never seen any structure built by human hands that was one hundred percent child-proof, and quietly slipped out the door.

The next day, judging by the tense way Maddy was holding her shoulders, they still hadn’t quite resolved the issue.

I didn’t think about Ben.

I didn’t think about Ben while I submitted to a few more calls, attending more open auditions, showing up earlier and earlier, hoping for a chance to read. Somehow, it never worked out. Somehow, no matter how hard I tried, I never managed to get there early enough. I was always on time for my nanny shifts, but when it came to auditions, I found myself hitting the snooze button over and over.

It was nothing more than self-sabotage. I knew that. The crushing sense of doubt made it so difficult to put the effort in. Best case scenario, if I arrived early enough, all I got was a chance.

A chance wasn’t enough. I was sick of chances. I wanted something for real, I wanted all of the time I’d spent hoping and dreaming to actually mean something. But I knew that was silly. Conceited. Ridiculously so. Everyone else hoped and dreamed too. That wasn’t enough. I had to work for it.

I just wished there was some guarantee. It wouldn’t take much. Just an assurance that I wasn’t chasing a mythical pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

Ben might have the stress of a billion-dollar company bearing down on him, but he didn’t know what it was like.

Don’t think about Ben.

I finally crawled out of my own ass long enough to actually secure myself an audition, and get up when my alarm went off. The first time. More or less.

I had a good feeling about this one, in spite of all evidence to the contrary. It was posted on classified ads instead of the big industry-only site that I’d subscribed to, but there were plenty of indie filmmakers doing totally legitimate projects without going through the normal channels. I just had to have a little faith – that was all.

Besides, the supposedly official, fully-vetted industry-only site was so archaic and slow that it made me want to cry. I always expected to see a dancing skeleton in the corner of the page. It didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

The audition was much further uptown than I was used to going, and I walked past the building three times before I found the creepy little cement staircase leading down to the unmarked door.

A quiet little warning bell went off in the back of my head, but all of this was consistent with a smaller, indie project.

I had to stop self-sabotaging.

Inside, everything was eerily quiet, except for a faint mechanical buzz from somewhere underneath the floor. A few other girls were sitting in the waiting room in mismatched folding chairs, at least a few of them looking incredibly strung-out, and the others on the verge of it.

Turn around. Walk away.

The stubborn determination rose up in the back of my mind. Do you want this, or don’t you? Stick it out. No more excuses.

One by one, we were called into a back room by a guy in a dark hoodie with lank, dirty-gray hair. I stayed frozen in my seat. I waited.

Minutes passed, and I decided I’d had enough.

This wasn’t it. This wasn’t the time to get motivated, not in a sleazy basement office for a movie that might or might not even exist. I stood up and started to head for the front door.

Right on cue, the door in the back of the room popped open again.

"Hey, where are you headed?"

Clearing my throat, I turned around to face him. "Uh…I just, um, I have to go. Sorry. I hope you find somebody."

He shook his head, gesturing me towards him. "Nah, come on. We can get you in right now."

There was a noise of protest from the other girl who was still waiting, but he silenced her with a look.