Beautiful Monster

by Forrest, Bella

  His classes were small, and protected, as they were mostly the junior and senior ones, so I had never attended any of them. But while I was curious about his technique, I could study it by watching his movies a million times. His personality, up close, didn’t seem worth chasing after. But those eyes … perhaps those eyes would change my mind.

  I shook myself out of my own thoughts, opening the door to the lecture hall and going to sit in the back row. No one noticed. As usual, the class was full of energy and excitement, even though it was just a lecture.

  For the next ten minutes, I floated on the professors words, watching image after image of Koobooki style theater float by on the big screen, listening to the techniques each type of actor would apply.

  I didn’t have my note book with me, but I took notes on my phone, until it buzzed, reminding me to get back to the kitchen. With a sigh, I waited until the Professor changed slides and then slipped out, hurrying back to the vegetables.

  “Amy, call your father,” Adam said, the second I slipped back in. I reached to pull out my phone, and dialed home, trying to pull my hair net back on with the other hand.

  “Amy?” Dad asked, the moment he picked up.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Just had first break,” I said, as I tied the apron with difficulty. “I’m cutting vegetables all day, nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Good. I told Adam to give you something easy. How are you feeling?”

  “I just told you, I’m fine. How are you feeling?” I countered, glancing at my appearance in the mirror. Glamorous, I thought, sarcastically.

  “Better. You shouldn’t have to be there much longer, Amy.”

  “Take as long as you need, Dad,” I replied, leaning on the phone so I could straighten my apron. “Really. I’m ahead on school work, so it’s not a big deal.”

  “Just be careful,” he told me again, and then bid me goodbye. However, not before making me promise to call him on my next break. I did, and hung up, putting the phone into my purse. If he was going to ring me several times, at least it would be back here.

  “Do you want to make a prop?” Adam asked me, approaching with two grocery bags. I nodded, anything was better than cutting vegetables. Peaking inside, I found exactly what I was hoping for.

  “We’re making fake blood!”

  Adam laughed at my delight. “Yes. There’s an accident scene in one of the freshman classes, so they need a lot of fake blood. But you’ve gotta play with it a bit. It’s got to look real, but thinner, be easily wiped off, because in the next scene, they are fine.”

  “Right,” I nodded, my mind already turning. Fake blood was easy: corn syrup, food coloring and water. I was already thinking that making it with ice-cubes instead of hot water would keep it thinner and easier to wipe off, without losing its realism.

  I set right to work, mixing, stirring and testing. I could only imagine the scenarios in my head that they would need it for; the creativity that required playing injured. Perhaps the actor would have to fake cry? That was my favorite thing to learn how to do; I had practiced in front of my bedroom mirrors for weeks before I learned how to make tears come on cue. I had been so excited that I almost cried for real. Of course, I thought sadly as I stirred a bubbling pot full of fake blood, that was for fun. They need this for real. Lucky.

  I had become so lost in my own thoughts that I barely noticed the hours slip by. But when my stomach grumbled, I was surprised to look up at the clock and find it was 12:50pm. Perfect, I thought. I had brought a sandwich and could eat it in the back of the theater. They were rehearsing act one of their production in there this afternoon, and I couldn’t wait to watch it with full lighting.

  “LUNCH!” I called to Adam. “Oh, and I think the blood’s ready. Worthy of any vampire.” I grinned, pulling the spoon out to show him the consistency of him. He raised an eyebrow, coming over to test it on the inside of his wrist.

  “Hey, that’s not bad,” he replied, nodding. “You want me to send this over?”

  “Sure, just let it cool, but I think it’s done.” I replied, pulling off my apron and wiping my hands on it. It certainly looked like blood, even as it dried, darker than it was wet. “See you after lunch.”

  “Call your father!” he called after me, and I turned, giving him thumbs up, before heading into the change room.

  I texted Dad this time, quickly, as I hurried down the halls. I didn’t want to miss the start of the show, and my sandwich was finished before I even entered the next building.

  On lunch. Going to read a book. I wrote. It was a lame excuse, but he would believe it. I always had my nose in a book, what else was there to do at home? I put my phone away, rounding the corner, attempting to slip into the hall quietly. I did not expect what I was met with.

  There were loud voices coming from the hallway. It was impossible to make out individual words in the din. There were at least a hundred girls, maybe more, in a queue that snaked around the hallway and into the next one.

  I stopped short before I almost ran into somebody. This had happened before, when I was trying to watch a show. They sometimes invited neighbouring schools to watch dress rehearsals, various young drama classes and such. These girls must be from the girls’ school on the south side of town. All of them were perfect; tall, thin and beautiful; the type that a private school usually attracts. I immediately felt inadequate, with my thrift store clothes, and hair a mess, not wearing a scrap of makeup.

  Self consciously, I attempted to pull my hair back into a bun, and prayed it would stay that way. I moved past the girls, who were standing in single file. I figured if they were all from one school, they had to stay together, and I could slip past them and get a good seat before they were all gone.

  There was a commotion up front and I knew who it was before I even looked up. Liam. Escorted as usual by his entourage, I was surprised to also find a crowd of media. That hadn’t happened here in awhile and I assumed they had given up on him. But here they were, squawking, cameras flashing, as if he hadn’t ever been away from Hollywood at all.

  One of his entourage had her hand on his back, a tall wiry redhead who looked young enough to be a student herself, pushing him gently through the crowd. Liam was holding a newspaper up to his face, shielding it from view. However, standing on the other side, I could see he looked tense, paler than this morning, his jaw tightly clenched. And then he was gone, inside the auditorium, and I found myself standing outside the doors.

  “Right this way,” someone said, and I looked up. She was a 6th year student, I recognized her from the hallways, and the few times I sat in on her classes. She was shoving a paper into my hand, and hurrying me inside. “Move along please. Only students, no one else.”

  “What?” I asked my heart in my chest. Did she know my secret? After all these years, was it going to be a preteen girl who called me out? But she seemed already to be speaking to someone else, a mother standing at the front of the line with her arms around someone who was obviously her daughter. I ducked into the room before anyone else spotted me, heading to the second row to take a seat. Only then did I look down at what was in my hand.

  Auditions - Leopard Academy Scholarship Fund - Girls Day.

  Below it was a script; an excerpt from what I quickly read was Beauty and the Beast. But it was the headline that got me. I must have gotten my dates mixed up - today was not the dress rehearsal. Today was the auditions for the scholarship that everyone always buzzed about. Every two years, Leopard Academy held auditions for one talented student to win a full scholarship to the school, for as long as they needed to attend before graduating. This was an old tradition that Liam’s Grandfather had started, although I imagine it was even more popular now that Liam was the headmaster. The spots were coveted, people came from other countries just to be here today. And here I was, sitting in the second row, technically in line.

  Before I could even get to my feet, or pull out my phone to text Sarah, another girl sat beside me, putting her feet up on the chair
in front of us.

  “Hi. I’m Alicia.”

  “Uh … Amy,” I said, reaching out to shake hands.

  “Did you bring a hardcopy of your headshot and resume?” Alicia asked, rummaging through her bag frantically. “I mean, of course I sent it online, but I wasn’t sure if we were supposed to bring a hard copy too?”

  “Uh ... no.” I replied, with a shrug. After all, it was the truth, I wasn’t carrying a hardcopy of my headshot and resume with me. Never mind that I didn’t actually have either.

  “Oh. Well, I’m sure it’s fine then.” She settled back into her seat, relaxing. “How long have you been acting?”

  “Uh…not long,” I managed, looking at my watch. This place was packed and it was starting to look like even if I wanted to leave, I couldn’t. Not without attracting a lot of attention to myself. “You?”

  “Since I was a fetus,” she replied, with a smile. “My mom did an ultrasound commercial when she was pregnant with me. And I did some diaper commercials, and it’s been go go go ever since.”

  “Oh,” I said, impressed. She really did mean she had been acting forever.

  “And I spent five years as a minor character on Lazy Workers,” she said, looking me up and down to see if I recognized her. I didn’t, but I nodded enthusiastically anyway.

  “So…if you have all this experience…why do you want to audition here?” I asked. “I mean…if you’re already a full time actress, isn’t that a dream come true?”

  “Well…” she bit her lip. “It was. But things have been hard since my Dad left…and I haven’t been able to get much work lately. So my mom thought this would be a good opportunity for me. Plus, hello, Liam Swift is the head master here,” she nodded towards the stage, where we had seen Liam disappear. “He can teach me anything, anytime,” she winked at me.

  “Sure,” I replied. I wanted to ask her more, about what it was actually like to be an actor; how it felt when it was your job and not just something you did because you were so in love with it. What was it like, to act every single day and get paid for it? I was about to open my mouth when the curtain rose. It seemed nothing official was starting quite yet, but Liam and his cronies were on the stage now. The redhead I had seen earlier was standing at the edge of the stage, scanning the crowd. Finally, she turned to him, and nodded.

  He stepped forward, clearing his throat. Before he even got to say a word, the lights dimmed and a wave of applause broke out, followed by cheering. Liam glared out into the crowd, waiting for it to settle before he spoke.

  “Welcome to the Auditions for the scholarship fund. Students the academy have funded over the years have gone on to do great things including TV, movies, and Broadway. Every second year, we accept one person, gender and age not being a factor, and fund them for as long as they need to be at this school - Kindergarten through graduation, if need be. This student will have the same rights and privileges of any student here at the Academy. It’s quite the opportunity.” He paused for applause. “So hopefully, it’s in one of you. You’ll each get two minutes to read the script, and then you’ll be asked to move on. If the panel likes you, you’ll be asked for your contact details outside when you exit. So, let’s get started,” he said, indicating that the rest of his entourage should head down to where the panel normally sat, in front of the first row, facing the stage. “Rows one and two, come line up. And please, two minutes, and then exit. Nothing more,” he said, and then walked away from the microphone, oblivious to the applause.

  My heart hammering in my chest, I stood up, forced out of the row by the rest of them. My mind was already turning. Could I pull this off? I could at least try, just for experience. I was never going to get it, not with the likes of girls like Alicia in the crowd…but why not try? Just for fun. I had time, especially if it was only two minutes per girl. My lunch break wasn’t over for another forty five minutes and there were only twenty girls ahead of me. I could make it and then run back. Besides, Adam wouldn’t mind if I was five minutes late. Taking a deep breath, I went to line up against the wall with the rest.

  “So,” Liam’s voice boomed as he spoke into the microphone at the panel table. “Two minutes, one of the judges will read opposite you, and then head over to the left exit. If Porsche asks you to give her your contact info, please do.” He waved his hand over to the redhead, and I raised an eyebrow at her name, giggling. Porsche?

  “I’m guessing that’s his newest thing then, helping out,” Alicia whispered to me. “Lucky.”

  “Who’s first?” Liam asked, silencing us. With a gulp, the first girl stepped forward. I closed my eyes, trying to calm down. This was it, I was trapped, and I had to go through with it. I just hoped I wouldn’t make a complete fool of myself.

  CHAPTER 3: AMYI was shaking as I inched closer and closer to the front. Each time a girl read, Alicia would either roll her eyes in disapproval, or shake her head, as if there was no hope left.

  “That’s Candice Manther,” she said, as a new girl approached the panel of judges. “Her resume is about three times the size of mine, and she certainly has a salary from her last show. What the hell is she doing here?”

  “Maybe she wants a chance, like everyone else?” I said, shrugging. My hands were clenched in fists, as I tried to control my nerves. “Hey, look, I think I changed my mind…”

  “What? No!” Alicia turned around, grabbing me like we had known each other for years. “Don’t let the likes of Candice Manther put you off. You deserve a chance just like anyone else.”

  “Right,” I replied. My heart was beating fast, and my mouth had gone dry. Of course I wanted a chance, I wanted to act, and it’s all I ever thought of. If Sarah were here now, she’d be bouncing off the walls. But in this crowd, I didn’t stand a chance. Not with girls who looked vaguely familiar, girls who already had tons of training and a resume longer than the line up to this audition. Still, as I looked over the script in my hands, I felt myself drawn to the words. Like many others in the line, I began to whisper the words over and over to myself in my head. It was a short script, only a couple of pages, and I quickly indentified that it was more about expression and body language than the actual words.

  I became so absorbed in the script that I barely noticed how close I was to the front. However, when I heard somebody say ‘Next!’, and there was an awkward silence, I realized that it was my turn.

  “Um. Me.” I said, moving forward.

  The lights were bright, and I could barely see the panel in front of me. Liam looked at me with annoyance and I quickly realized I was standing too far back. Moving forward, onto the masking tape ‘X’ they had put down, I nervously held my ground. He was staring at me. He could probably see right through me and my lack of training.

  “I’ll read now,” he said, and that surprised me. There had been twenty girls in front of me, and they all had someone else on the panel read opposite them. Liam had not uttered a word…until me?

  “Right,” I said, folding the script and putting it in my back pocket. He raised an eyebrow.

  “You don’t need it?”

  “No, I uh…have a good memory,” I replied, which was true. I also didn’t want him to see how badly my hands were shaking.

  “Whenever you’re ready then,” he said, never taking his sharp eyes off me.

  I took a deep breath, closing my eyes as the lines flashed through my mind. And then, opening them to face him square on, I started talking.

  “You think I’ve ever cared what you are?” I said. I surprised myself, the first line of a monologue was always difficult for me. But here it was, flowing through me. The words just spilled through my mouth, almost as if I had nothing to do with them. “I have never cared what you are or what you look like.”

  “And what kind of future do you think we would have?” Liam snapped, as the Beast to my Beauty.

  “I don’t care about the future,” I said, meeting his eyes. “I came here, prepared to hate you…but all that’s changed. All of it. I feel th
ings about you that I have never felt before, not with any man. All of a sudden, the world is real. The fairy tales I’m reading are coming true.”

  “Are you not frightened?” Suddenly Liam was on his feet, growling at me. “Do you not know what awaits you, if you choose this fate? This life with me?”

  “Yes,” I said, holding my ground. “You.”

  There was silence, and internally I panicked, wondering if I had forgotten a line. He stared at me for an impossibly long time, and although it made me incredibly uncomfortable, I tried not to break his gaze. Acting was about looks as much as the words that came out of your mouth, and so I continued to meet his eyes with what I thought was love and support; things I thought Beauty would feel for her Beast. No one said anything for quite awhile, and then Liam left the table without another word. Everyone watched as he went over to Porsche and whispered something in her ear.

  The girl nodded and then crooked a finger, beckoning me over. I went, in the silence, over to her, as Liam passed me, calling “NEXT!” in that gruff bark that was startling to everyone.

  “What’s your name?” Porsche asked, when she had taken me out into the hallway. I panicked, thinking I was in trouble, that they had caught me, until I remembered that this was a good thing. Had I actually done well? Out of all the girls who had auditioned so far, he hadn’t sent one of them over here yet.

  “Amy,” I said, and spelt my last name for her. She asked a few more details and then scribbled them down as well, making sure my phone number and email were correct. My heart began to sink when she asked for my experience and resume. Of course, having none, I babbled about my work in the kitchens. Maybe all she wanted was to know I wasn’t a complete spoiled deadbeat teenager who never had a job? In a last ditch effort, I mentioned my father, and homeschooling, hoping anything I had would help. It was when she asked about my mother’s profession that I shook my head and tried to change the subject. Outside of the house, I never talked about my mother. I was afraid that the very few memories I had of her, a scent, a happy feeling, would disappear, if I exposed her to the public. They were my memories, all I had left.