Fiesty Get's the Part...And the Boy
Sierra raked a hand through her thick, chestnut colored hair. She was nervous and hated the feeling. Usually she was cool as a cucumber when it came to auditions. But this one was different. She lived and breathed this part. The role was made for her. Now if only she could convince the director that much.
Sweeping a casual glance around the room, she counted thirty more girls, a lot for a call back. And it was a known fact they had been seeing girls all week, hundreds probably. The odds were not in her favor. She drew a deep breath, forcing herself to get into the right mode. She needed to be confident, cool, and calm.
Oh, who was she kidding? She was a nervous wreck and if she didn’t get her act together fast, she wouldn’t last sixty seconds in the audition room. Gathering up her resumes and headshots, she rose and quickly stepped outside. Closing her eyes, she let the California sunshine wash over her face, and sucked in the citrus, salty air. She counted backward from ten and when she finally let her eyes flutter open again, it wasn’t the sunlight or busy street that she saw; it was another pair of eyes; blue eyes, eyes the color of the ocean after a storm.
Standing about six feet four, he had dark hair, a bronzed complexion and if she had to guess, perfect dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. “Hi there. Are you alright?” His voice was deep and velvety.
Sierra swallowed. “I was just getting some air.”
He nodded, noticing her armful of headshots. “You’re an actress.”
“Yes. I’m auditioning in a few minutes actually.”
“And your nervous,” he guessed.
He laughed low in his throat, and she liked the sound of it. “What’s the part, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Her name is Jem and she writes a controversial column on her school newspaper in a secret pen name. She’s intelligent but socially awkward.”
“Hm. She sounds to me…feisty.”
The breakdown hadn’t said anything about feisty. It had almost alluded to Jem being shy. “I suppose she could be,” Sierra said skeptically. “Anyway, I better go, I’m up any second.”
His eyes twinkled and for a moment Sierra was lost in their indigo depths. “Good luck and I really hope you get the role.”
Sierra blushed and quickly gathered up her wits. “Thanks. Goodbye,” she murmured, going back into the waiting room.
Her name was called moments later. Taking one last breath of courage, she stood up straight and entered the small, private room where the auditions were held. A stone faced director and grumpy, sleepy looking producer greeted her.
“Start at page six, scene one,” the director instructed briskly.
Sierra knew that scene by heart. She delivered the lines, not missing a beat and felt confident afterward.
But the director seemed to let out a sigh. “Try scene two. Do something different this time.”
Different? She thought she’d nailed it. She portrayed Jem as smart and shy but obviously they wanted something else from the character. Sierra scrambled for ideas. Suddenly, she remembered what the blue eyed boy outside had said about Jem sounding feisty.
Sierra found her inner sass, and delivered the lines of scene two with a feisty spin. Both the director and the producer seemed to liven.
“That,” the director said, “is what we’ve been waiting for. Let’s try page three now.”
Two call backs later and the part was hers. She didn’t think life could get any better. That is, until she walked into her first day of set and spotted the blue eyed boy.
“Who is that guy?” Sierra asked one of the PA’s.
The PA laughed. “You mean you don’t even know your own boyfriend?”
“That’s Jake, he plays Sam, your boyfriend on the show,” the PA explained.
Sierra gasped, blushed, and then grinned. Butterflies filled her stomach as she approached him. “Remember me?”
He turned, his blue eyes softening at the sight of her. “How could I forget?”
“So I hear you’re my boyfriend.”
“Yeah,” he said, “you hear right.”
“I guess I should thank you,” she said sheepishly. “You’re the reason I got the part you know.”
“You did that on your own. But if you really want to thank me, you’ll let me take you to dinner tonight.”
Sierra bit her lip, unable to contain her giddiness. “Absolutely.”
He smiled then, and just as Sierra had suspected, he indeed had two very perfect dimples. -