[ edited 2nd Dec 2015 ]
Before I'd left home for L.A, mom had run me through all the scenarios where I'd meet Flynn Mathers.
Scenario 1 - He came to the set and I ran into him. He recognized me and kidnapped me. Refused to give me back, fought mum in court for withholding parental rights. I lived with him as he came home with women after women.
Scenario 2 - I went to Starbucks to get myself a white mocha and coincidentally he was also there getting himself a white mocha. Recognized me, kidnapping, same old, same old.
Scenario 3 - He ran me over, took me to the hospital, got my blood tested, found out I was his daughter, kidnapping, same just as before.
Scenario 4 - We met, he never recognized me, we went on with our same old lives.
Of course, mom and I were both vying for the last scenario with the slight difference of us never meeting ever again. And judging by the fact that my flight back home was leaving in T-Minus 1 hour and 49 minutes and counting, Scenario 4 personalized was going to be in action.
To say I was disappointed was blowing it out of proportion. But after that meeting with James two days ago, I had been hoping to run into him and set matters straight and let out all the pent up anger for the past number of years.
Two days had passed since my meeting with James and I felt ... freer. After of course, the crying session and the hours of dissing I'd done over the phone with my friends. Then there was the 52 missed calls from James and 116 messages all saying that he was sorry, he was wrong, or asking if I was alright or all the above.
Now, I was going home to virtually a boring slash stupid slash crazy summer. All my friends had summer jobs at the fancy country club where I couldn't even enter and then there was the fact that I could've been working there to if not for the bloody surprise I'd planned for James.
My cheap replacement of a phone I'd grabbed after the fight with James vibrated in my pants.
I pulled out the ancient Nokia phone and mourned for my old one that Sir Jerks-A-Lot damaged thanks to his big ego that everyone wanted him. Which reminded me, now the jerk had gotten away with the crime of property damage. If only I could see his cocky face again, but that was never gonna happen unless pigs flew.
My phone vibrated again, reminding me that it was ringing.
A random number showed up on the screen.
Answer or not? I didn't know whether to. After all, I didn't know who it was.
It vibrated again. Somehow with more urgency.
"Hello?" I said as I answered it.
"Ms Hunt?" a female voice said from the other end.
"This is her. Who is this?"
"Great. Janice Florence from Global Studios, Ms. Hunt. We're calling to inform you that-"
"Are you going to sue me?" The words escaped as I thought back to whether I'd broken any laws.
"What?" Laughter followed. "No, Ms. Hunt. We-"
"Then why are you calling?" Suspicion laced in my tone.
"If you'll let me continue-"
"Okay sorry," I bit my lower lip nervously.
A chuckle from the other side. "As I was saying, we're calling to let you know that we need you to come in for some visuals and head shots."
"Why? I thought you said I was going to be sued?"
"You aren't. These aren't mug shots. They're head shots."
"Why do you need them then? What will you do with it?"
"You're one of the top three finalists for the lead."
"Lead?"
"Yes, Ms. Hunt. The female lead for the upcoming movie, Rushed."
"What? What movie? What are you talking about?" I was beyond confused.
"The movie that will start production next month."
"And what do you mean, I'm in the top three?"
"Exactly that Ms. Hunt. The entire staff enjoyed your audition and found it refreshing."
"What audition?"
"Two days ago, you came in and auditioned. The director enjoyed the staged drama between you and Mr. Mangy. They found it realistic."
Oh shit! "That's because it was realistic. I was not acting."
"What do you mean?"
So I ended up relaying a short version of my pathetic story.
"Oh darling, I'm sorry."
"So you see Ms Florence, this is all just a misunderstanding. I was not acting. I was really pissed."
"Well, darling, well done on breaking up with that little squirt. Good on you."
"Thanks," I smiled at her words.
"Now back to business. You see honey. No matter the nature of your audition. It was still a marvelous one and showcased your talents perfectly. I think you'll be a perfect fit for the lead role. You and Ashleigh Bishop are alike in more ways than one. She also saw her lover cheating on her, embarrassed him publicly and managed to find out that she can find love again, even in the unlikeliest of people."
"Yes but..."
"Think about it, before you say no okay?"
"Uhmmm..." I pondered over it.
"It'll be a great experience. I guarantee that. And ... even if you don't make it you'll still be getting a letter of recommendation for your skills and a good compensation for your time."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll get a fee for coming in until the final decision is made."
"How much?"
She laughed before telling me the number.
"Really!" I shrieked, shocked at the number.
"Yes, I know. So, think about it and let me know, okay?"
I agreed.
"Oh and I'm not supposed to be telling anyone this love, but a certain hottie has already agreed to be the lead and he can help get your mind of your ex."
"Who?" Curiosity hit me.
"I'll let you know when you finally agree."
I laughed at her bribery.
"When are the head shots scheduled?"
"The day after next."
"Okay. I'll call you on this number?"
"Yes."
I hung up, confused and full of questions on what to do. Go home and waste summer, or stay here, get a great job, good pay, good recommendation and hunt down a jerk for phone compensation.
My head almost made up, I glanced towards the VIP lounge wondering what it was like going there. Will I be able, ever be able to enter that place?
As if my envy was calling it, the door to the lounge opened and out walked a guy in shades, a black leather jacket that screamed money and bad ass and a pair of diesel jeans.
My breath caught as I recognized him.
Pigs can fly.
Because there, right there, walking out of the VIP lounge was Sir Jerks-A-Lot himself and I was ready to get compensation for my deceased phone.
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