Broken Halo

by Dayo Benson

  "You guys can leave," I tell Gina and Leah. "You can take my car. I'm going to be here for a while."

  I've already been inside for almost two hours, and I know Leah is supposed to be meeting Andrew. They're good friends.

  "How will you get home?" Leah asks. She's wearing my leggings and sweater. They're slightly baggy on her small frame.

  I hand over her clothes. "I'll take a taxi."

  I really shouldn't when I'm so broke, but I'll have to.

  "No," Gina says. "We'll take a taxi. Let Leah change back into her clothes, then we'll go."

  Leah changes in the back seat, then they get out of my car.

  Gina hands me the keys. "Good luck."

  The audition is pretty grueling. I'm completely thrown into the deep end. I play Simona as best as I can.

  I find that the extra five pages that I only saw today have somehow locked into my memory anyway. It's not like I have to remember five whole pages of script. It's conversation, and the other person's side of the conversation acts as a prompt for what my response should be.

  Simona is a totally self-assured character who says what she likes and does what she wants. I would absolutely love playing her week in week out. She's the kind of girl that everyone wants to be. She could easily become one of the show's favorite characters.

  Logan Collins, the actor who plays Alvin in the show, is the dude whose eye I catch despite him already having a girlfriend. The extra five pages are him trying to get my attention. I find it easy to play that kind of scenario. I've played the aloof love interest many times on stage and even occasionally in real life.

  Dumbo and Shrek come to mind. But I quickly banish them from my thoughts. Logan looks nothing like either Dumbo or Shrek. He's gorgeous. Dark hair that reminds me of Colby, and gray eyes that have nothing on Colby's.

  I don't know when Colby became my standard for male attractiveness. Actually, I do. It was the first time I looked into his brown-gold eyes on Friday.

  It's freezing cold late September, but Logan and I, and all the extras playing 'college students' around us, have to act like it's summertime. In the editing, they'll brighten up the background and make it look nice and sunny. I'm willing my body not to shiver, which is hard work in itself, never mind having to act too.

  I don't know how Logan is coping. He's removed his shirt to impress me. I trail my gaze down his rippling abs as I give him a sassy one-liner about how he should take his tired pickup lines elsewhere because they won't work on me.

  I wonder if Colby has nice abs. He's a big guy. And he looks super strong. I'll bet he does. But I wouldn't care if he doesn't.

  When we finish filming, two hours later, Logan fist-bumps me. "You were good."

  "You think so?" I ask.

  Around us, the crew is packing up and the other actors and actresses begin to chat with each other.

  Logan nods. "In my opinion, you were better than the last girl. I hope they choose you."

  I'm so delighted, I could hug him. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

  He smiles at me. He has a really cute smile, but it doesn't twang on my heartstrings the way Colby's small smiles do.

  "Good luck," he says.

  "Thank you," I say again.

  Mavis appears across the set and beckons to me. I hurry towards her, my heart soaring. I could totally work here. The actors seem nice. I've worked with diva actors before and it was no fun.

  Mavis takes me back to wardrobe to get changed and then promises that she'll be in touch with Quin over the next few days.

  I leave the building and get into my car. I want to call Quin and give him an update, but I still can't bring myself to switch on my cell phone.

  Once again, I feel like I'm being a wimp. Gina would never avoid anybody. She would let them know where she stood and let that be that.

  But I'm not Gina. Avoidance is an art that I have perfected. It's the only way I've managed to stay sane with all the restrictions and control I've been subject to my whole life. Comply. Let things slide. When things get too much, just avoid talking about it.

  It might not be the healthiest way to handle things, but it's the reason I've survived.

  The traffic to get out of the parking lot is unreal. There were at least fifty extras in the scene I just shot with Logan.

  It literally takes twenty minutes to get out of the parking lot.

  As I drive home, my high from the audition begins to wane, and my predicament over Timothy's demand returns like a thick shroud wrapping around me.

  Is my working as an actor a deal-breaker for him? Is he going to give me an ultimatum when I go to see him this weekend?

  If so, what will I do? Do I have the strength to walk away from this relationship?

  Timothy is safe. He offers security. I may be drawn to Colby, but there's nothing safe about him.

  Colby is the guy you date and have a breathtaking, whirlwind romance with. Timothy is the steady, dependable type that you marry.

  I don't know much about the world, but I don't think there are that many steady, dependable men out there. Men who welcome responsibility. Men like Timothy. Most seem to be like my father. Guys who would happily sleep with you, but then vanish if a baby comes along.

  I'm terrified that I'm going to end up with a guy like my father. I've never met him, but Mom and Nana have told me plenty about him and have always warned me about guys like him.

  But is snagging myself a dependable man worth giving up my dreams?

  I have absolutely no idea.

  I don't want to give up my dream. I don't know what to do.

  I'm exhausted after all the stress of today, but as I drive home, I find that home is the last place I want to go.

  If I go home, I'll just think about Timothy, talk about him with my friends, and stress about the future.

  At a stop light, I remove the yellow flyer from my purse.

  Colby said he'd ask for my number if he sees me one more time. I can make that happen.

  But do I want him to ask for my number?

  A stress headache begins behind my eyes and reverberates through my head.

  It would be so wrong to give him my number.

  But I want to see him again.

  I met Colby after I prayed that God would send me the right man. I then saw him another two times that day. Also, just before I said that prayer, I was thinking about my ideal man. On my mental list was 'rough around the edges.' Check. 'Love for the arts'. Another big, fat 'Check'.

  Something is going on here. Maybe I should explore it.

  Timothy is supposed to be the right kind of guy for me. But our relationship feels all wrong.

  Colby feels right, but my head thinks it's wrong.

  Color me confused.

  I pull over and punch the address for the drama class into my cell phone's GPS.

  I cannot believe I'm doing this.

  Chapter 10

  I feel horrible on three levels as I enter the building where the drama class is taking place.

  Level One: My head is pounding. The pain of it is so horrendous, I feel like I'm coming down with an incurable disease.

  Level Two: I'm tired. Beyond tired. I'm completely depleted. And I haven't eaten all day. I've been too busy. I should go home, eat, and sleep. Not stalk some dude.

  Level Three: I'm stalking a dude when I have a fiancé. I'm evil.

  A staff member points me in the direction of the room I'm looking for. When I get there, I see that it has a large window, which is good. I can peek inside and see if Colby is there.

  The class should have started ten minutes ago but it looks like everyone is just sitting around waiting and talking.

  I spot Colby immediately. He sticks out like Prince Charming at a troll parade.

  He couldn't stand out more if he was riding a white steed and wearing a sword that he could draw to fight off all my enemies.

  I roll my eyes at my ridiculous thoughts. White steed? Enemies? I have no enemies. I'm just a girl who do
esn't know what she wants and is letting other people decide for her.

  Although I don't know what I want, I know what I don't want.

  I'm letting Mom and Nana push something I don't want on me.

  But I can't blame them. I have to blame myself because I've never had the guts to stand up to them.

  I don't stand up to them because I don't trust my own decisions. I'm terrified that, if I try to choose for myself, I'll wind up choosing the wrong thing and ruin like my life like Mom ruined hers. I'll end up disappointing Mom, Nana, and myself. I'll end up disappointing God.

  Tears fill my eyes and I quickly blink them away.

  For the next five minutes, I stand there and watch Colby unsuccessfully trying to ignore all the women who are trying to get his attention. He isn't being nasty. I can't hear them, but it looks like he's being polite, yet aloof.

  A particularly beautiful redhead smiles at Colby and sits next to him. Colby immediately takes out his cell phone.

  I grin. I use that trick myself. If you look busy, it's less likely that someone will try to interrupt you.

  The redhead isn't deterred. She says something to him.

  Colby glances at her, replies, and then focuses back on his cell phone.

  She's pretty. Why isn't he interested?

  After a while, a blond comes over.

  Colby hardly seems to notice how gorgeous she is. His disinterest is obvious.

  After a few moments, he lifts his phone to his ear and walks across the room. I'd bet anything that he's talking to absolutely nobody.

  His phone call—assuming he isn't just pretending—is brief. He tucks his phone into his pocket and then joins a group of guys. The girls flock over to that group as soon as he joins it.

  I'm glad I've observed him without him knowing. Watching him has told me a lot. He really does have a 'no serious relationships' rule. And he's uncomfortable with female attention, which is strange because he must get a lot of it. Also, I'm probably not the only girl he's run away from—whether literally or metaphorically.

  Doesn't he trust women?

  Has something terrible happened in his past?

  I walk towards the door. As I open it, I remember that I'm wearing leggings and a sweater, and a face full of makeup from filming. I must look ridiculous.

  Everyone looks over when I walk in.

  Colby rises to his feet, staring at me like he's seeing a ghost.

  We stare at each other from across the room for three long seconds before a man in a polo neck shirt that reminds me of Steve Jobs appears before me, blocking my view of Colby. "Welcome," he says in a loud voice like he's making an announcement. "You are?"

  "Chloe."

  He consults a clipboard, a frown on his face. "Did you register?"

  Register?

  Oh yeah. This isn't a free class?

  Silly me.

  "Um, no. I was just going to observe and see whether I would like to join from next week."

  "Okay," he says. "We are going to start in," he glances at his watch, "now, actually. I gave the first fifteen minutes for everyone to get to know each other as I find that if people break the ice they warm into acting much quicker. You may sit over there for five minutes and then I'm afraid you'll have to either pay or leave." He points at a stool in the corner.

  "Thanks."

  I turn to go to the stool and find Colby standing right behind me.

  He's gazing at me with piercing scrutiny. Anyone would think he's thirsty and I have the last bottle of water on earth.

  I don't understand it. Every other girl who approached him looks much better than I do right now.

  "The day we met," he says quietly, "I put out a fleece."

  His voice. I've missed his voice. It's been only two days, but it seems like forever.

  "What?" I ask. Is that breathless whisper mine? I clear my throat and try again. "What are you talking about?"

  "I made a bargain with God."

  I rake a few stray curls back from my face. "What bargain did you make with God?"

  Colby takes my hand and leads me out of the room.

  We're only holding hands, I tell myself. There's no need for the way my heart is doing jumping jacks and the way my knees are turning into slush.

  The door swings shut behind us and Colby turns to face me. He releases my hand. "I told God that I wanted a woman whose name begins with 'C' to ask me if I'm okay."

  I remember that I did ask him if he was okay. He'd just been slugged in the chest by a thief.

  I go cold all over.

  Maybe what's happening between us isn't a cosmic joke. Maybe it's a sign from God after all.

  "I left without asking your name," Colby tells me, "because it would have been too scary for me to face the fact that God had heard my prayer and answered. When I got home I changed the rules. I put out another fleece. I told God that I have to see the same woman three times in one day. I saw you again by the Olympia that night. And then later, my cousin had you up on his Facebook account. He'd been to see Rumpelstiltskin and was totally in lust with you."

  I want to laugh out loud, but I'm terrified at what he's telling me. We both saw each other three times that day? How bizarre.

  I glare at him. "So it was you in the knight costume? Why did you lie?"

  "Because it was kind of embarrassing."

  I'm about to ask what he was doing when he continues. "Do you often get cornered like that?" he asks. "If I hadn't been there, that man was going to do something not very nice to you."

  "He was my director's friend. A director, too. He wanted me to play Belle in his production of Beauty and the Beast."

  "I hope that's not how you're getting your acting jobs. Via the casting couch?"

  I lift my brows.

  Colby shrugs. "Sorry for asking. I guess it's none of my business."

  "I don't mind you asking. I'm just surprised you think I'm that kind of girl. I've managed to avoid the casting couch throughout my almost four-year career. Thank God."

  He nods. "Thank God."

  He sounds like he cares. And that feeling is like what I imagine a shot of drugs does for users. It makes me feel high. I quickly try to rein in my emotions. I don't want to get addicted.

  I still don't know exactly what is going on here.

  "I made another bargain with God," Colby tells me.

  "You changed the rules a third time?" I ask. "You're worse than Gideon."

  Colby shakes his head. "I didn't change them this time. I was convinced. But I made a bargain with God. I told him that if I see you on three separate days, then I would change something in my life that I know He wants me to change, and I will get committed to Him." He pauses, his caramel-gold eyes slightly awed. "It's happened."

  "Okay," I say slowly. "I have a confession."

  Colby lifts his dark brows.

  With his gaze focused on me I feel like I'm standing under a pair of hot stage lights. I almost break out in a sweat. "I might have engineered this meeting."

  "How?"

  "I saw you holding the flyer. I took a flyer too and decided to come."

  My cheeks are blazing. I look away from him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when he makes an inevitable derisory comment about me stalking him.

  "It's still a third meeting no matter how it came about," Colby says. "It could still be destiny."

  I look at him.

  "What if I wasn't holding a flyer and you couldn't track me down?" he asks. "But I happened to be holding it. You happened to see it and find more of the same flyer. And you also happened to be interested in me enough to come here." He pauses. "I guess it's safe to assume that your tracking me down is evidence that you're interested."

  I want to deny it, but what's the point? We'll both know I'm lying. Actions speak louder than words.

  Colby takes out his cell phone. "Give me your number."

  It sounds like a demand.

  Timothy makes demands and I don't like it.

  I fold my
arms across my chest. "Or what?"

  He frowns. "What?"

  "'Give me your number' should sound like a request not a demand."

  "May I have your number, please?" he asks, rolling his eyes.

  "That's better. Let me think about it for a moment. Please be quiet while I think."

  He rolls his eyes again.

  Think, I tell myself.

  The first thing I think of is the fact that I feel like I can call Colby out on any behavior I don't like. But I'm afraid to do that with Timothy.

  That's not Timothy's fault. It's mine.

  I quickly push Timothy out of my mind. But it's too late. Guilt surges through me.

  If I give Colby my number, does that mean I'm…cheating?

  I decide it doesn't.

  But it could lead to cheating, my conscience screams.

  The voice of my conscience is loud. And it sounds like my mom.

  I'll be careful, I tell myself.

  I look at Colby. He's watching me.

  I begin to recite my number.

  He quickly begins to tap on his cell phone, the same phone he used as a buffer between him and the other women.

  "Are you free any evenings this week?" he asks me, slipping his cell phone back into his pocket.

  "Why?"

  "I want to take you out on a date."

  A date? Now, that would definitely be cheating.

  But not if we don't kiss or even hold hands.

  No! my conscience screams at me. It would be wrong!

  I instinctively look at my bare ring finger.

  Colby's gaze follows me.

  "You look scared," he says quietly. His voice is a low rumble that sets off an earthquake in my heart. "I think you want to say yes, but you're scared."

  My headache intensifies. I should refuse to go on a date with him, but… I don't know. I don't know anything, right now.

  "It's just a thank-you date for getting my money back from that thief on Friday."

  Colby gives me one of his half smiles. It makes a flurry of pretty pink confetti sprinkle around in my chest.