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“Is that…cheese?” I asked.
He plucked a piece from the side, popped it into his mouth, and nodded with a menacing grin as he chewed.
Chester Cheesebeard.The man was wearing a fake beard made entirely of cheese.
I turned back around. What was he going to do tomorrow? Add a pirate hook hand and a parrot? Also made of cheese?
Before my imagination could run further away from me, Gilbert clapped his hands. “Today we’re going to start by filming some sketches.”
Sketches? Like drawings?
“Will these be judged?” Glitter asked.
“Only by the masses.” Gilbert barked the fakest laugh I’d ever heard. “No, we’ll be filming tiny skits and confessionals to enhance the live footage. Morgan, you’re first.”
I followed Gilbert to a small room with a small crate perched in front of a green screen.
A production assistant handed me a script and directed me to sit. She said, “Read it. Memorize it. Be passionate about it.”
I looked through the two pages of words that were supposed to come out of my mouth. All of them were garbage. I would never say anything so cruel.
“I can’t say this,” I said.
“You will. You’re under contract.” Gilbert sashayed out of the room.
“You have to do as you’re told or you forfeit all benefits immediately, including your hotel room and returning your stipend,” the production assistant—Annie according to her name tag—said. She frowned. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said. I took a deep, centering breath. Top notch super boss ladies could do anything. I could pretend to be the awful person they wanted me to be for just a little while. It wasn’t real. And soon Layana would win this whole thing and I would get my call from the Resplendent Theatre offering me a costume design position and I could tell Gilbert to shove it. Positivity would shield me, sustain me, and carry me safely through to my goals.
I could do this.
I read the script over and over again, committing every awful word to memory.
And then I said them for the camera.
When it was over, Gilbert retrieved me and returned me to the group. I felt disconnected from my body, like I was floating above it all—a strange place, filled with strange people behaving strangely. I didn’t understand any of it, yet here I stood stuck in the middle of it.
Other people came and went, taking their turns filming. During the lull, I stepped out into the hall and called my dad since we kept missing each other.
“Cricket Falls Coffee, this is Greg,” he answered. “Hold for a moment please.”
A click told me he’d set the phone down on the counter, as the old phone didn’t actually have the capability to put people on hold, and if it didn’t he wouldn’t know how to use it anyway.
Tons of lively noise buzzed in the background. He was busy, too busy to chat.
I hung up and returned to my standing and waiting.
At two points we were ushered to a banquet table filled with food. I stashed some to take home for later.
And I went through the motions of the on-set, pre-filming day, posing for promotional photos and doing everything else that was required of me.
“Are you all right?” Layana asked.
“Hmm?”
Concern dampened her otherwise delighted expression.
“Yeah,” I said. “Everything’s good.”
