As the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, I stirred on the couch, my body protesting the uncomfortable makeshift bed. Rubbing my eyes, I yawned and stretched, feeling the knots in my muscles unwind reluctantly. I glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing I had overslept. There was no blaming me, yesterday was too stressful and I needed the rest.
Dragging myself off the couch, I shuffled to the kitchen area, my bare feet padding softly on the polished floor. With a sigh, I flicked on the coffee machine, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloping the room. Leaning against the counter, I watched the dark liquid trickle into the pot, my mind already racing with the day ahead.
After pouring myself a steaming cup of coffee, I grabbed my phone and checked the time. I realized I was already running late for my meeting with the director, all I could only hope for was the director being nice enough to pardon my lateness. Hastily gulping down my coffee, I had my bath, got dressed and hurried to gather my things. As I glanced at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement mingled with nerves.
Before I could dwell on my emotions further, there was a knock at the door. Startled, I hurried to answer it, wondering who could be at my door so early in the morning in a city where I knew no one. To my surprise, it was Wade Spelman, the man I had collided with at the airport and my male lead.
"Wendy, hi!" Wade greeted me with a charming smile, his blue eyes sparkling with warmth. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
I blinked in astonishment, still trying to process the unexpected visit. "Uh, no, not at all," I stammered. Despite knowing I was late, I stepped aside to let him in and I couldn't help but ask myself what had gotten into me. "What brings you here?"
Wade's smile widened as he stepped into the apartment. "I just wanted to apologize again for my behavior yesterday. I was in a terrible mood, and I took it out on you. I hope you can forgive me."
I felt a surge of empathy for him as I recalled our tense encounter at the airport. "Of course, Wade, no hard feelings," I said, smiling back at him. "Water under the bridge."
Relief flooded Wade's features, and he visibly relaxed. "Thanks, Wendy, I really appreciate it," he said sincerely. "I also wanted to thank you for understanding about Simone Bache. It was a tough blow for all of us."
I nodded sympathetically, remembering the disappointment I had felt upon hearing the news. "It was a shock, for sure," I admitted. "But we'll get through it. The show must go on, as they say."
Wade chuckled, the sound warm and infectious. "That's the spirit! And hey, I'm sure whoever they cast as the new female lead will be amazing. You wrote an incredible story, Wendy, and it deserves to be told."
A blush crept up my cheeks at the praise, and I ducked my head shyly hoping to hide my cheeks which I knew were now as red as a tomato. "Thank you, Wade, that means a lot coming from you," I said sincerely. "I just hope I can do justice to your character on screen."
Wade's smile softened, and he reached out to gently squeeze my shoulder. "I have no doubt you will, Wendy. You have a gift for storytelling, and it shines through in every word."
The unexpected warmth of his touch sent a shiver down my spine, I found myself drawn to him in a way I couldn't quite explain.
His words, the light touch, was he flirting with me or just being nice. Maybe it was just me reading too much into it. Clearing my throat awkwardly, I took a step back, breaking the moment.
"Well, I should probably get going," I said, gesturing vaguely towards the door. "I am so late for my meeting with the director."
Wade nodded understandingly, though there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "Of course, don't let me keep you," he said, stepping back to let me pass. "Good luck with your meeting, Wendy. I'll see you around."
With a final smile, I bid him farewell and closed the door shut. I couldn't help but watch his retreating figure while replaying in my head the short moment we had just had.
Stepping out into the bustling street, I raised my hand to hail a cab. The yellow vehicle pulled up beside me, and I slid into the backseat, giving the driver the address of the studio where the meeting was scheduled to take place.
Arriving at the studio, I paid the cab fare and stepped out onto the sidewalk, the cool breeze tousling my hair. With a sense of trepidation, I made her way through the maze of corridors, finally reaching the director's office.
Pushing open the door, I entered the room, my eyes scanning the space. The director, a man in his 30's with a stern expression, sat behind his desk, his gaze fixed on me as I approached.
He was the famous Osse Brown and I was glad to be working with him— well, until this moment.
"Ah, Miss Banks, right on time," he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Please, have a seat."
I took a deep breath and lowered myself into the chair opposite the director, my palms sweating slightly. I could sense the tension in the air, and I braced myself for what was to come. It felt useless to give excuses as regards my lateness, so I chose to stay quiet.
The director wasted no time in getting down to business, his voice curt and businesslike. He outlined his vision for the film, his words cutting through the air like a knife.
"As you may know, Miss Bache has decided to pull out of the project," he began, his lips curling into a thin smile. "But fear not, we have already found a replacement."
My heart sank at the news. Simone Bache had been the linchpin of the entire production, and her departure threatened to derail everything.
"And who might that be?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.
The director leaned back in his chair, a smug expression on his face. "A rising star, someone who is sure to bring a fresh energy to the role," he said cryptically.
I sat across from the director, my brows furrowed in frustration as he announced his decision to cast a new female lead without consulting me. Suddenly, my nervousness was replaced with a newly found confidence. "Excuse me?" I exclaimed, my voice rising with indignation. "You can't just pick someone without discussing it with me first!"
The director merely shrugged, his expression indifferent. "I don't need your approval, Miss Banks. I'm the one in charge here, and I'll cast whoever I see fit."
My jaw dropped in disbelief. I had poured her heart and soul into writing the screenplay, and now the director was dismissing my input as if it meant nothing.
"But it's my story!" I protested, my voice trembling with anger. "I should have a say in who plays the lead role."
The director waved a dismissive hand. "Your input is appreciated, Miss Banks, but ultimately, the final decision rests with me. Now, let's not waste any more time arguing about this. I have a list of potential candidates for you to consider."
With a frustrated sigh, I reluctantly leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. I couldn't believe I was being shut out of the casting process like this.
Suddenly, Wade's words from earlier which had felt like a simple gesture made more sense to me. He had wished me luck with the director, was he always like this? Bossy and selfish?
The director proceeded to pull out a stack of headshots and resumes, spreading them out on the desk in front of me. "Take a look at these," he said brusquely. "I've narrowed it down to the top contenders."
I glanced down at the photos, my eyes scanning the faces of the actresses staring back at me. Each one seemed to blur into the next, and I struggled to find someone who embodied the vision I had for the character.
"This one," I said finally, pointing to a photo near the bottom of the pile. "She has the look I imagined for the character."
The director scoffed, his lip curling in disdain. "Are you serious? She's a nobody, Miss Banks. We need someone with star power, someone who can draw in audiences."
I bristled at his condescending tone. There was no doubt that a top star would play a lot in pushing the movie but what about what I had envisioned for it? Simone Bache was a great fit in all aspects, however, his choice of replacement wasn't. So what if she was a little famous?
"Just because she's not famous doesn't mean she's not talented," I retorted. "And besides, isn't it the actor's job to bring the character to life, regardless of their level of fame?"
The director narrowed his eyes, clearly unimpressed by my argument. "How about professionality? I can't work with some first timers who need everything explained to them".
Once he noticed I wouldn't budge, he gave in. "Fine," he said begrudgingly. "If that's your choice, then so be it. But don't come crying to me when the film flops because we didn't have a big-name actress in the lead role."
I clenched my fists, fighting to keep my composure. I knew I was taking a risk by standing up to the director, but I refused to compromise my artistic integrity for the sake of box office success. Besides, it was my book, my sweat, my story, he wouldn't be here directing without my story.
With a defiant glare, I squared my shoulders and met the director's gaze head-on. "I believe in my story, and I believe in the talent of the actress I've chosen," I said firmly.
The director's face turned red with anger. "I'd see how far that takes you, and I know just who to discuss with. Not you, you are way too new to the system. Let's talk about your script".
For the next hour, the director dissected my screenplay with ruthless precision, tearing apart every plot point and character arc. His criticisms were harsh and unforgiving, and I found myself struggling to defend my work against his onslaught.
He was just impossible!
By the time the meeting drew to a close, I felt drained and defeated. The director's words echoed in my mind as I made my way out of the studio, my confidence shaken to its core.
As I stepped out into the sunlight, I couldn't help but wonder if I had made a mistake in pursuing my dreams. But deep down, I knew that I couldn't give up, not now, not ever. The road ahead would be long and fraught with challenges, I knew but I was ready to face whatever obstacles came her way. For I knew that true success was not measured by the praise of others, but by the strength of my own conviction. Besides, I knew one person who was always on my side, Char and decided to give her a call.