Second act

I was deeply asleep, lost in the rare moment of peace that my busy life allowed, when suddenly, the door to my room burst open with an obnoxious thud.

The sound echoed off the walls, making my heart leap into my throat. I shot up in bed, eyes wild and disoriented.

Standing in the doorway, practically vibrating with excitement, was Nicole, my ever-enthusiastic manager. Her face was glowing as if she had just won the lottery.

"Zaya!" she shouted, her voice far too loud for this early in the morning. "Guess what?! You got the lead role! The main one!"

I blinked at her, still trying to make sense of the situation. My brain was sluggish, and all I could process was that Nicole had disturbed my sleep yet again.

I groaned, sinking back into the bed and pulling the covers over my head.

"Go away, Nicole. I'm a model, not an actress," I muttered from beneath the blanket, trying to will her out of existence.

But Nicole, being Nicole, wasn't one to give up easily. She yanked the blanket off me with a dramatic flourish, ignoring my groan of protest.

"No, no, no, you don't get it, Zaya. The director specifically asked for you! This is huge! And guess what? We already signed the contract. Fifty-five million dollars, babe! You're going to be a star!"

I sat up sharply, glaring at her through half-lidded eyes. "You signed a contract? Without asking me? I don't care about fifty-five million dollars. I'm not interested."

Nicole, undeterred, placed her hands on her hips and gave me one of those 'I'm not backing down' looks.

"Oh, please. You act like you're too good for this. You've been modeling since you were fifteen, Zaya. It's time to expand your horizons! Plus, you're perfect for this role! It's a lead in a major production—"

I groaned again, louder this time, and collapsed back onto the bed, pulling the pillow over my face. "I don't care. I'm not doing it. End of discussion."

Nicole huffed, her excitement clearly dampened, but she wasn't about to let me off the hook. She marched over to my side of the bed and started tugging at the pillow.

"Zaya, come on! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! Do you even know how much fifty-five million dollars is? You could buy an island with that!"

I yanked the pillow back, not ready to give up my argument. "I'm not doing it. Find someone else."

Just as Nicole was about to launch into another one of her motivational speeches, the door creaked open again.

This time, it was my grandmother who entered, her soft steps calming the charged air in the room. She always had a way of balancing out the chaos.

"What's going on in here?" Grandma asked, her voice gentle but commanding enough to make both Nicole and me pause.

Nicole, as if rejuvenated by the sight of my grandmother, immediately turned to her, explaining the entire situation. She was talking fast, her words spilling over one another as she tried to make her case.

"Zaya got offered the lead role in this huge movie, but she's being stubborn and won't take it. It's a fifty-five million dollar contract! And the director asked for her specifically!"

My grandmother simply looked at me, her eyes wise and knowing. She didn't have to say anything; the look was enough.

"Zaya," she began softly, "it sounds like a wonderful opportunity. You've always pushed yourself to be the best at whatever you do. Maybe this is a new challenge for you to take on. You've already proven yourself as a model, but this… this could be something different."

I sighed. My grandmother had that way about her. She never pressured me, but her words always lingered in the air, settling into my thoughts like seeds waiting to grow.

"Fine," I grumbled, running a hand through my hair. "I'll do it."

Nicole cheered, practically bouncing on the spot, and before I could protest any further, she was ushering me out of bed, telling me to get ready for the audition today. Apparently, I was supposed to be helping select the other actors.

I groaned internally, already dreading what the day had in store for me.

---

Now, sitting at the long table in the audition room, I couldn't help but feel the weight of boredom pressing down on me.

The room was sleek, modern, with minimalist decor and an aura of importance. The casting process, however, was anything but exciting. 

Each actor that walked in through the door seemed more unprepared than the last. Their attempts at bringing life to the script felt shallow, like they were merely reciting lines instead of understanding the depth of the characters.

I was trying to be polite, nodding and smiling, but honestly, I wanted to tell some of them that acting might not be for them.

The role they were auditioning for was a crucial one a princess in a modern setting, falling in love with a spy sent to kill her.

There was so much potential for tension, for complexity. But I had yet to see anyone come even close to capturing that.

I leaned back in my chair, trying to hide my frustration. I wasn't an actress myself, but I knew when something wasn't working.

I glanced at the other producers sitting beside me. They seemed just as unimpressed, but they were better at hiding it. I, on the other hand, was struggling to keep my composure.

Another actress walked in. She was pretty, confident, but as soon as she opened her mouth, I knew it wasn't going to work.

Her delivery was flat, her emotions nowhere to be found. I exchanged a glance with the director, who subtly shook his head.

This was going to be a long day.

Just when I thought I might lose my patience, the door opened again. I looked up, only mildly interested, but then my eyes landed on the next actress walking in.

Layla Nightshade.

I hadn't expected to see her here, of all places. She had been at the award ceremony the other night, but we hadn't interacted.

Now, standing in front of me, she looked different focused, determined. Her energy was palpable, and for the first time today, I felt a flicker of curiosity.

Her gaze swept the room briefly before settling on the panel, and for a moment, her eyes met mine.

Something flickered across her face, a moment of recognition, but she didn't let it break her focus. I straightened slightly in my seat, intrigued.

Maybe this one wouldn't be so boring after all.

Layla walked to the center of the room, the quiet confidence in her stride catching the attention of everyone in the room.

The air shifted slightly, and I could sense that the producers were paying closer attention now, just as I was. There was something different about her, something that made you want to watch, to see what she would do next.

The director gave her a nod, signaling for her to begin. Layla took a deep breath, then started her lines.

And for the first time all day, I felt like I was going to see the character come to life.