Back in L.A....
"Ms. Bullock, before you go..."
Sandra turns around, hand still on the door, her crew neck white t-shirt slipping over one shoulder. "Yes, sir?"
Pushing his glasses up on his nose, the casting director is looking down at her headshot, exposing a bald spot on the crown of his head as he scribbles some notes. On his shirt she can see some dried mustard from lunch, partially covered by his brown tie hugging his sunken chest and rounded belly. He doesn't bother looking up at her as he continues, "Have you considered dying your hair blonde and using those, those colored contacts?"
She takes a breath and forces a smile. "I'll talk to my agent, sir. Thank you for the notes."
"You're welcome."
She walks down the hallway in silence, pressing the LL button on the elevator to take her to the lower level. She enters the elevator and stares ahead as the doors close. When she is certain she is alone, she mutters, "That guy, THAT guy, that crusty fucker has an opinion on my hair color? My hair color! At least I've got hair on my head, I swear—"
Ding!
The elevator door opens and in walks an older woman with two young girls in sundresses. She straightens her shirt, takes a big breath, and offers her bright smile to them as a greeting.
Back at Beachwood Canyon, she opens the door and sets down her things. Gesine is finishing some dishes in the kitchen. The phone rings and Sandra answers. The conversation is brief. Her sister doesn't have to ask what that phone call meant, it is written all over her face. This is the fifth audition she's been on in as many weeks. All of them fell through.
She'd graduated with a masters of fine arts degree earned with a full scholarship. She carried every one of her university productions and had done more than her share of commercials. She studied under some big name acting coaches, yet door after door was closing and her agent sounded like a broken record when she called her with notes from casting.
"Do you think she could lose like twenty pounds, but not from her ass or breasts? We just don't want her thighs to touch," was the comment made by one.
"I weigh 125 pounds and I'm 5'8!" She almost screamed at her agent, incredulous at the suggestion.
"We're looking more for that all-American girl next door for this one," said another, barely hiding his disdain at anyone that didn't look like supermodel Claudia Schiffer. Ironic, given Claudia and Sandra were both German, but Claudia was born in Germany and Sandra was born in the states. Hmmm, I wonder what they mean by "all-American", she thought, nauseated.
"She's sweet. She's got the chops for the part but, she's just not exotic enough," quipped another.
When yet another person from casting recommended that she look into implants, Sandra was almost ready to call it quits and look into other career options.
"What about theater?" Gesine suggests as Sandra peels off her t-shirt and jeans, pulling on a pair of black cropped spandex pants and a sports bra.
Ignoring the question, she hops onto her treadmill and turns on the machine. So much for the nineties being a time of progress, she thinks to herself as her pace picks up.
Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.
Her feet slam against the rotating rubber of the treadmill as the hair lining her forehead begins to stick to her skin.
Hehuh, hehuh, hehuh.
Her heavy breaths carry the beat of her footsteps as she runs. Tomorrow morning she has another audition, this time for a romantic sci-fi comedy. Too late to bleach my exotic-not exotic enough hair for that one, I guess. She has to laugh at the absurdity. Her mood begins to lighten as she enters that period of runner's high. For now, she'll just put all her energy and focus into tomorrow.
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In Portland....
Every day they make their way downtown, talking to more street kids, getting to know the scenery. Every night, they return to the beach house, which is now entirely inhabited by the cast, various kids from downtown, extras, assistants, other lower level production crew. They live as though they are homeless squatters. All bedrooms are abandoned for anything but storage, mattresses are scattered about the rec room floor. Sleeping bags are used for those without mattresses. Overflowing ashtrays and empty bottles all over the place. At night, they let their hair down, write music, get high, just enjoy themselves and let their creative juices flow. Auggie had long since surrendered his home to the crowd, moving temporarily to his penthouse in the city to give them the space to sink into their characters.
Jude is peeling more layers off of his character like an onion. He started dressing like a street kid both on and off the set. He went days between showers, stopped combing his hair or shaving his face. Musically, he has entered his most prolific period, spending hours jamming with Hans Spaulding, a hot guitarist from a famous band who is playing a bit part in the film. They play for hours with Jude adding vocals.
Keanu is fresh off of filming Point Break and still largely resembles the character of "Johnny Utah", with his trim physique and surfer hair. His character in this new flick is more clean cut than Jude's. This is good because he still has Point Break promotions coming up. He joins the crew for most of their antics, but has to use caution with how deep he could go. Jude has more freedom, but even if he didn't, he'd have taken it. He spent more time on the streets, learning how to walk and talk like a hustler, how to negotiate the deals. The group has become more like a family than co-workers. They spend little time with anyone outside of their crew.
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Back in L.A....
"Sandra! We're so excited to start this project with you. You're going to be great! Perfect fit! Thanks for coming in early this morning. You ready to meet your co-star?"
"I'm Sandra, nice to meet ya," Sandra reaches her hand out to the tall man with a big confident grin.
"Nathan O'Neal. He grabs her hand and raises it to his lips, curly blond hair falling forward into his eyes, never removing his gaze from her face. "Nice to meet me!" He winks before turning his back to ask where his coffee is.
Sandra dutifully laughs. It seems odd they've never met before. No chemistry reads. She came in for her audition and a few days later, was offered the part. Her agent told her her headshot had been picked out by the other lead and there was no need to read together first. She'd had enough rejection that she wasn't going to question the choice, though.
Today is their first read-through and she is more than happy with their introduction. He is classically good-looking and charismatic. She found herself grinning, her hand still tingling from his kiss. She sits down with the script while Nathan runs to craft services for his coffee.
Making small talk with other cast members, she doesn't notice Nathan in the corner, chatting up the brunette serving the food. He brings her hand up to his lips. She hands him a piece of paper that he slides into the inner pocket of his sports coat, staring at her intently. He pulls her in for a hug, whispering something that makes her laugh before winking at her and walking away, same confident grin on his face. Taking his seat next to Sandra, he leans in closer than necessary. "What'd I miss, honey? Anything important?"
Sandra can't help but blush at the quick implementation of the pet name. Ugh! He's cute! She quickly pushes it out of her mind as they all open their scripts to the first page.