The door closed with a soft thud, and Layla was gone, leaving behind an energy that still lingered in the room. The director, who had been pacing excitedly during her audition, now stood still, a broad smile stretching across his face.
His enthusiasm was contagious, but I kept my own expression neutral. I didn't want to give too much away.
"Well, that was something," he said, turning to face me, his eyes shining with the thrill of discovery. "What did you think of her, Zaya?"
I crossed my arms, taking a moment to consider my words. Everyone in the room was waiting for my response, but I wasn't about to let them know how impressed I actually was. Layla had delivered a performance that was… unexpected, to say the least.
Her timing, her ability to react, and the way she kept up with the spontaneity of our scene it was clear she was more than prepared. Still, I wasn't about to gush like everyone else.
"She was fine," I said, my voice cool, almost detached. I tilted my head slightly, keeping my tone nonchalant. "Needs a bit of work on her delivery, but she's got potential."
The director nodded eagerly, completely oblivious to my attempt at being vague. "Exactly! That's what I was thinking too she has potential.
And the chemistry between you two? It's going to be great on screen. I knew I was right to ask you to be a part of this." He chuckled, shaking his head like he couldn't believe his luck. "You'll see, once we get into rehearsals, it's going to flow perfectly."
Nicole, my ever-present manager, who had been lurking quietly in the back of the room, finally stepped forward. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, held a gleam that I recognized all too well. She'd been waiting for the perfect moment to pounce, and now she had it.
"I agree," she said, her voice smooth as honey but with that edge of sadism I knew so well.
"Layla has potential, but Zaya here well, she's going to make this film something unforgettable. It's already set up for success." She shot me a quick glance, her expression one of amusement, as if she knew exactly how much this situation grated on me.
The director clapped his hands together, clearly satisfied with how the audition had gone. "Zaya, I'm going to need you to start learning the lines. Rehearsals begin next week, and we need to hit the ground running. I want you both to be in sync from the get-go."
My jaw clenched slightly, but I gave a nod. Learning lines wasn't exactly something I enjoyed, and acting was far from my usual comfort zone.
But there was no escaping it now. I'd been roped into this, and Nicole had already made sure the contract was ironclad.
It wasn't like I could back out. Still, I wasn't about to make it easy on her or anyone, for that matter.
"Fine," I said, keeping my response clipped. "I'll get started."
Nicole, always the opportunist, grinned at the director. "Don't worry, she'll be perfect by the time rehearsals start. Zaya never disappoints."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and instead, turned on my heel, ready to leave the suffocating room.
There was nothing more to discuss, and I didn't want to waste any more time with meaningless small talk.
I had places to be, and frankly, I wasn't in the mood to stick around while everyone basked in Layla's apparent talent.
As we walked out of the studio, Nicole trailed behind me like a shadow. She was always there, always ready with some snide comment or piece of advice I hadn't asked for.
We stepped into the sunlight, and I spotted my car, the sleek black Porsche GT3 RS sitting in the lot, gleaming under the late afternoon sun.
Nicole made a move to get into the passenger seat, as she always did, but I stopped her, my voice firm. "Take your own car."
Her expression faltered for a split second, but she quickly masked it with that professional smile of hers.
"Sure, boss," she said with a mock salute. "But don't think you're getting out of that script read-through tonight."
I didn't respond, just slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, the roar of the Porsche filling the air.
I needed space. Nicole could take her own damn car. She had her own way of getting under my skin, and today, I wasn't in the mood for it.
I pulled out of the parking lot, and as I did, something caught my eye Layla. She was standing with Maya, and they were both talking animatedly.
Layla's face was lit up with excitement, and I could see the energy buzzing around her, like she was still riding the high of the audition.
She was grinning from ear to ear, her movements animated, her eyes bright with that unmistakable gleam of someone who had just achieved something big.
It was… cute.
The thought struck me before I could stop it, and I felt a jolt of irritation flash through me.
Cute? What the hell was I thinking? Layla was just some actress , no less. And yet, I couldn't help but watch her for a moment longer than I should have.
There was something about her that was different, something refreshing in the way she carried herself, even in the way she'd argued with me during the scene. It wasn't forced. It was real.
I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the thought. No. This wasn't something I needed to get tangled up in.
I had a career, one that didn't involve getting involved with people like Layla. She was just another actress, another colleague. Nothing more.
"What the heck am I even thinking?" I muttered under my breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
I shifted the gears and accelerated, leaving the studio and the sight of Layla behind me. The engine's hum was a familiar comfort, drowning out the confusion that had settled uncomfortably in my chest.
I couldn't afford to let myself get distracted, not by her, not by anything.
There was too much riding on this, too many people counting on me to perform, even if I didn't want to.
Nicole's words echoed in the back of my mind. "Zaya never disappoints." Damn right. I didn't disappoint, and I wasn't about to start now, not because of some girl with a cute smile and wide-eyed excitement.
I had my own path, and I wasn't about to let anyone or anything throw me off track.
Still, as I sped down the road, Layla's face lingered in my thoughts. And for reasons I couldn't quite explain, it bothered me more than I was willing to admit.