I shook my head. “I… no. No more than any other woman does, I mean.”
The main interviewer was the head of the drama department. I’d seen her around before. She introduced herself as Director Cho. There was a guy who looked like a student, another teacher, and an older man. I looked down the line of them, reading their names but not really taking them in.
“No more than any other woman? Can you elaborate on that? It sounds interesting,” the other teacher asked.
I nodded.Crap, why had I babbled away?Now I had to justify my words or sound like a flake.
“I just mean, everyone is used to acting to a certain extent; men, too, probably.”
The panel watched me, waiting for me to continue.
“I said woman, because that’s what I can relate to. I’m sure men have their own things that they act about every day… maybe not to care about a bad grade,” I rambled. Brody’s face flashed through my head. “Or maybe that their dreams are the same as their parents’.”
“And women?” Director Cho prompted.
I shrugged. “Acting like they’re okay, or that they feel safe. That the world isn’t scary. I think everyone knows how to act at least that much every single day.”
Silence fell when I finished. Director Cho considered me and then nodded to an assistant standing behind her.
“Give her script one, please.”
The assistant walked over and handed me a small bunch of papers, stapled in one corner.
I looked down at it.
Handmaiden No. 3.
I nearly laughed. It wasn’t quite a background role, like I’d imagined, but it was close enough.
“Should I just read it?”
“You should act it,” the older man interjected, seeming irritated by my inexperience.
“Take your time to understand it first, read it, absorb it,” the younger guy said.
I nodded and scanned over the words, taking my time to read it well.
Then I raised my head and started.
Time flew by. One second I was nervous, the next I was talking, and then, it was over.
“Thank you, Selena,” Director Cho said with a smile. “Can I ask you to read one more time?”
“Um, okay,” I muttered, the nerves that I’d forgotten when I was speaking, suddenly rushing back.
“Scene four, please.”
I flipped through the papers and found the scene. I took my time to read it and then started.
The nerves disappeared again, as did I. For that moment, I wasn’t Selena, damaged goods, former mean girl and deservingvictim. I was whoever I was reading in the script. I was someone else, and God, it felt good. I fell into that feeling, letting it absorb me.
“Prove you that any man with me conversed
At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight
Maintained the change of words with any creature,
Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death!”
