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Matt: Falling in love with Tahoe? Such a beautiful place…Send
Rakell: Long story. Not in Tahoe, in LA…auditioning for the next two days. I will fill you in tomorrow. Reading through the script and rehearsing right now…Send
Matt: Okay. I can’t wait to hear…Send
Rakell methodically read through the script, noting specific pertinent scenes, contemplating the psychological bifurcations of the character's personality. There were pieces of this woman’s psyche she could relate to, how she guarded herself from a distant mom, eager to please her father, but the willingness to cause damage was something for which she’d definitely need to rely on her years of training at RADA. It made her think about how Matt Damon skillfully embodied Mr. Ripley; she made a mental note that after she finished tonight, she’d try to look for old interviews of how he’d prepared for that part. She found the highlighted lines she would perform at the audition tomorrow, an argument scene between the main actress and her father. She rehearsed the monologue repeatedly in front of the mirror, trying different intonations, facial expressions, and body language. She read the ending words meant to be spoken in a hushed voice, laced with vitriol: “I hate you, Daddy. You will pay for this!” which she inflected with a mournful disquietude. Shoving it aside, she re-read the lines, forcing anger to rule her voice, just as the script instructed. She halted her mirror audition when she heard a knock at her bedroom door.
“Vee?” Rakell said, opening the door to the willowy brunette in her early twenties. Her long, layered hair rolled over her shoulders in soft, loopy curls, highlighting her red undertones. She had on a black and white old-timey maid’s outfit, the kind you see at pop-up Halloween stores, Rakell thought, looking at her inquisitively. “I thought you’d be in Temecula with Jeff until tomorrow.” Jeff was Vee’s on-and-off again boyfriend.
“Yeah, well, we broke it off last week. He’s so jealous, I don’t need the baggage right now. Besides, he’s dropping out of UC San Diego for a wildfire training program. He said he can’t see himself in business, sitting behind a desk.” She grimaced, her country accent peeking through.
“Oh…” Rakell offered, unsure of how to respond to that. She knew firsthand how important firefighters were, and the dismissive tone in Vee’s voice made her wince. She’d never met Jeff but she instantly felt sorry for him, hoping Vee hadn’t said that to him.
Vee smiled, a perfect façade of white. Her full lips struggled to stretch over them as if the veneers sat on top of her natural teeth, adding girth to the porcelain smile that always made her seem like she was straining. “I ended it with him since I can’t see myself dating some forest firefighter. Besides, I have a job tonight,” she added, twirling around so Rakell could see her whole outfit.
It was definitely the kind of maid uniform worn in porn films, Rakell thought. “And the outfit is for the job?” she asked, fixing the features of her face to hide the concern just below her smile, her eyes landing on the top of the thigh-high stockings Vee was wearing before scanning the four-inch heels. “You can’t be waiting tables in that,” she said, thinking that the times she’d worn something similar were in a hotel room waiting for a client.
Vee laughed, a twisted smirk emerging on her face. “For the kind of money I’m getting just to walk around a bunch of rich celebrities carrying a tray of Champagne, I could do it in stilts.” She laughed. “Jacobson is having an exclusive sorey-ah…is that how you say it? Well anyway, I’ll make more money than I can make in a month at the Beverly Wilshire. But I thought that you were being whisked away for your birthday and wouldn’t be back in L.A. until next week.”
Ana’s cautionary words chimed in Rakell’s ears…everybody is competition. “Well, we’re going next weekend instead. I’m meeting with Ana this week to go over some possibilities.”
Vee’s eyes widened. “You have to let me know if there are any auditions coming up. I mean, they may not always want a busty swimsuit model type.” She cupped her small breasts, pushed up and out by the black corset portion of the “maid” costume, her eyebrows raising. "Besides, I’m saving to give these babies a little extra oomph.”
“Stop, you look beautiful,” Rakell said, her tone serious.
“Sure, Rakell, this coming from the darling of Sports Illuminated, boobs for days and the focus of a hot NFL guy with lots of money. You already got yours…so if there’s something juicy out there, you have to let me know.” Her eyes flickered like she’d just figured out the answer to something. “Wait, does he have any friends?”
“Jake?”
“Yes…Jake. You should see if he wants to bring a friend, someone on the team, next time he comes to town. When will that be? I want to meet him.”
Rakell turned her head, hearing her phone buzz on the desk. “Not sure, but you don’t even know if you’d like his friends.”
Vee rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling. “For football player money, I’d figure it out. I’m out of here. The sor-tee ends at midnight, so I’ll be back late.” She winked and asked, “How do you say that, fancy girl?”
“Swah-ray …but I’m not fancy,” Rakell retorted, taken aback; she hadn’t seen this side of her new roommate, but then they’d never really spent time together, both using the apartment as a crash pad between travel, auditions, and modeling gigs.
“Oh yeah, you so are. You always sound educated.” Vee abruptly twisted around, walking down the hall to her room. Watching her, Rakell couldn’t help but take in the fact that the “outfit” left her lower ass cheeks hanging out.
Her phone buzzed again.
Lana: Happy Birthday. We’ll celebrate when you’re back in Austin. Levi says Happy birthday, too…Send
Rakell: Thank you both! I’m in LA…long story…Send
Lana: You and Jake?…Send
Rakell: No, just me. Audition. I’ll call tomorrow or Tuesday with the details…Send
Chapter Six
This day seemed to drain everything out of me. But I pushed forward: did laundry, worked out, and grocery-shopped before canceling the Tahoe reservations to plan a quick Napa trip. It was just a normal day, but it was a constant mental fight not to picture him, his mega-watt smile, captivating gun metal gray eyes, that overly arty, casual sense of humor and the too intellectual way he spoke, tipped with a residual British accent which seems to elevate people’s IQ and charm by ten points. Yeah, like a dumbass—because I guess I like slow, excruciating torture—I spent the last hour looking at interview videos of the hotshot Bernardo Cappuccino. How can someone embody an arrogant air while simultaneously coming across as unassuming? That had to be rehearsed…an act he’d likely spent ten years perfecting in front of the mirror.
Jake: Hey, birthday girl, call me before you head to bed. I want to hear your voice…Send
Rakell: Where did you get that line - “I want to hear your voice”…Send
Jake: A cheesy rom-com…took a chance you’d think it was original ??…Send
