Terms & Conditions

Chapter 1: The Audition

My leg bounces up and down, restless, nervous, and impatient. 

How long does it actually take for someone to call me in? What is that girl doing there, a freaking Shakespeare monologue? Probably. 

I didn't prepare that. Fuck  

She probably is gonna get it. Blonde, blue eyes, they always win these things. It's easier for people to actually like them; they almost seem angelic, innocent. I do not. It's been an hour already. I've gone over my lines so many times that they've stopped sounding like actual words. 

This is supposed to be the one. 

A lead role. Not three lines in the background. Not some stupid advertisement where my entire contribution is smiling at a bottle of shampoo and making people believe it's gold I am selling. 

A fucking lead. 

I've wanted this for years. 

And I can't fuck this up. 

-

Well, I fucked it up. 

Not immediately,  though. The first 30 seconds were fine. I got in, greeted the casting directors, three people looking all serious and all staring at me like I might have something on my face, put on my polished smile and the face that has to give off confidence - that is, until I started the scene and my brain was blank. 

Those lines I rehearsed 17 times? Not there. 

Not even the first one. 

Instead of improvising I just stared at them. A good actor knows how to play it off, to make it seem like it's all part of the game, something that I know and they don't. 

A good actor. 

Maybe I am not that good after all. 

This thought follows me when I get in my car. On the silent drive to my apartment, when i park the car, not realizing when I got there. It's all a blur. Failure is not something I take easily, it's something that takes hold on me, drags me through mud and kicks my ass. The need to always stir away from it, it's engraved in me.  I have to prove that my silly dream will blossom, like it did for my brother. It didn't matter he wasn't good at first, he made it work in an instant. My parents believed in him, my dad more than all of us. 

Maybe a little too much. I shake my head, let's not go there right now.

I kick my shoes onto the floor, and untie my hair from this tight ponytail. The place still smells like the coffee I made in the morning and the sunlight quietly slips through the curtains, giving me just a tiny bit of light, enough to see the mess I left. One look at the pile of laundry waiting for me near the couch and the dishes sitting in the sink, and I know exactly what they're saying: get your shit together, Victoria. Maybe I should, maybe cleaning the whole place and turning it upside down will actually make me feel better. Give me some sense of control over something, rather than staying here and sulking this afternoon. That would be the wise choice, but I am choosing sulking. 

 I unhook my bra and throw it on the couch, one thing I love about living alone. I can go on about my day, organize things my way and no one ever touches them. 

I put on my favourite playlist and head for the coffee machine. Hopefully this coffee will cure this throbbing headache, or it will distract me from checking my phone every five minutes for that call my agent will make. Elena is nice, she has no fault in me getting rejected from every audition. We actually became best friends along the way, hanging out together whenever we are not working, constructing marketing strategies that will eventually help me get there, or just ending up with a bottle of wine lounging on my floor and doing karaoke when both of us sing so badly.