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She clicked on another video, and another, watching the progression of Genevieve's career through these snippets of interviews and behind-the-scenes footage. With each one, Eden found herself more drawn to the director's intensity, her prowess.
It was only when she glanced at the clock that Eden realized how much time had passed. She'd been so engrossed in her research that she'd lost track of the time. With a start, she remembered her plans to meet Amanda.
Closing her laptop, Eden stood and stretched, her mind still buzzing with everything she'd learned. The fluttering disbelief that had invaded her body since getting off the phone to the cheery Kelly was still there, as well as something else she wasn't quite ready to name.
Eden moved to her wardrobe, rifling through her clothes. This was a celebration, after all. She wanted to look nice. After some deliberation, she settled on a blue dress that brought out her eyes, pairing it with a simple silver necklace.
As she applied a light touch of makeup, Eden found her thoughts drifting back to Genevieve Howard. She wonderedwhat it would be like to see her every day, to be under the scrutiny of those piercing eyes that were so dark they sometimes seemed black. Would Genevieve continue to see potential in her? Would she be able to draw out a performance that Eden didn't know she was capable of? Or would Eden ultimately end up disappointed in the fumbling actress she’d mistakenly entrusted with her vision?
Eden shook her head, trying to focus on the present moment. This was supposed to be a night of celebration, not anxiety. She'd earned this role. Genevieve had chosen her. That had to mean something.
With one last glance in the mirror, Eden grabbed her bag and headed for the door. As she passed her desk, her eyes fell on Alicia Pearson's book. On impulse, she picked it up and slipped it into her bag. Maybe she'd have time for a quick reread on the subway.
As she locked her door and headed down the stairs of her building, Eden felt a surge of determination. Yes, working with Genevieve Howard would be challenging. Yes, it might push her to her limits. But wasn't that what she'd always wanted? A chance to prove herself? To show what she was truly capable of?
With a spring in her step, Eden stepped out into the evening air. Whatever challenges lay ahead, tonight was for being proud of herself. She'd worry about impressing Genevieve Howard tomorrow. For now, she had a drink with her best friend to look forward to, and maybe even a future brighter than any she'd dared to imagine.
Amanda’s “manifesting” mumbo-jumbo aside . . . Eden could feel it. This was just the beginning.
5
GENEVIEVE
Genevieve's heels clicked sharply against the polished floor as she strode into the theatre, her mind already racing as she thought of the day ahead. The first readthrough. A pivotal moment that would set the tone for the entire production. She'd spent weeks meticulously preparing, conjuring every nuance of her version of Beatrice, and now it was time to see if her chosen cast could bring that vision to life.
The theatre’s corridors bustled with activity, but a hush always fell as she passed. Genevieve revelled in the effect her presence had, in the mixture of awe and trepidation that followed in her wake. She spotted the stage manager, a harried-looking woman clutching a clipboard. Genevieve made a beeline for her.
"Is everything set to start on time?" Genevieve demanded, not bothering with pleasantries.
The stage manager nodded quickly. "Yes, Ms. Howard. The cast is assembling in the rehearsal room now."
"And the scripts? Have they all been distributed?"
"Of course. Everyone received their copy last week, as requested."
Genevieve's eyes narrowed. "Then they've had ample time to familiarise themselves with the material. I expect nothing less than professional perfection today."
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and marched toward the rehearsal room. As Genevieve approached, she could hear the low murmur of voices. Whispers of her name mixed in with the mumbled nerves. Good. A touch of fear would keep them on their toes.
She paused at the doorway, taking a moment to observe the scene before her. The cast was scattered around the room in small clusters, some people running lines in hushed tones, while others engaged in animated conversation. Her gaze swept over them, assessing, until she saw Eden Rowley.
The young actress stood slightly apart from the others, script clutched to her chest like a shield. Even from across the room, Genevieve could see the tension in her shoulders and the slight tremor in her hands as she flipped through the pages. For a brief moment, Genevieve felt a flicker of something – concern? But she quashed it immediately. Eden had fought hard for this role. Now it was time to prove she deserved it.
Genevieve stepped into the room and a hush fell over the assembled cast and crew. All eyes turned to her, a sea of expectant faces. She allowed the silence to stretch for a beat, then two, before speaking.
"Good morning," she said, her voice crisp and commanding. "I trust you've all had sufficient time to acquaint yourselves with the script. Today, we begin the process of bringing Beatrice to life. I expect nothing less than your full commitment and best efforts. There will be no easing into it. I want a hundred and ten percent from the start."
Genevieve gestured to the circle of chairs set up in the centre of the room. "Take your seats. We'll begin with a fullreadthrough, after which I'll provide my initial thoughts and direction."
As the cast scrambled to comply, Genevieve took her place at the head of the circle. She noticed Eden hesitate before choosing a seat directly across from her. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Genevieve thought she saw a hazy mix of determination and apprehension swirling in those striking blue depths.
"Let's get started," Genevieve instructed, once everyone was settled. "Remember, this isn't just about reading the lines. I want to hear your character in your voice. See them in your body language. Show me you understand who these people are."
The readthrough began and, almost immediately, Genevieve felt her frustration mounting. The actors stumbled over their lines, failing to capture the rhythm of the dialogue. Even those with smaller roles seemed to struggle with the basics of their character’s motivations. They flailed, as if the original Shakespearean had been their parachute and now they were plummeting to the ground, with nothing to grasp.
But it was Eden's performance that truly grated on her nerves. Where was the fire, the passion she'd glimpsed in the audition? Eden's Beatrice was timid, her wit dulled, and her anger a mere simmer where it should have been a roiling boil. With each faltering line, each missed opportunity for depth, Genevieve's disappointment grew.
She held her tongue, allowing the readthrough to continue uninterrupted. But her displeasure was evident in the clenching of her jaw, the narrowing of her eyes. By the time they reached the midpoint of the script, the tension in the room was palpable.
