1
The call came in at 3 p.m. on a Tuesday.
I had imagined this moment so many times, the daydream sustaining me through a hundred late night bar shifts and a thousand miserable auditions. Through sleepless nights wondering what, exactly, was so wrong with me that I’d decided to pursue an acting career, sacrificing financial and emotional stability and any chance I might have had at a ‘normal’ life for one filled with anxiety and rejection. Through call after call to say that they’d gone with someone else, my stomach swooping in a downward arc of disappointment that was becoming so familiar I now picked up the phone ready, poised like a carriage at the top of a rollercoaster.
But despite it all, the hope always persisted.
That this time, it would be different.
That this time, it would be me.
I’d imagine where I’d be, what I’d say. How it would feel, to know I finally, finally had a chance at making it as an actor.
And when it finally came, I wasn’t ready for it.
And I certainly wasn’t ready for what happened next.
‘What?’ I breathed on the phone to my agent, my heart hammering so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest.
‘You heard me right. They want to do a screen test.’
‘A screen test?’ I repeated, as if I was hearing those words for the first time.
‘A screen test, Lara. On Tuesday. Can you get time off work?’
‘I...’ I hesitated. I’d just taken on a 9–5 because the regular bar shifts I’d been working no longer covered rent for my box room in a shared house on the outskirts of London.
‘I’ll work it out,’ I said.
‘Great,’ she replied smoothly, a glimmer of excitement under her professional tone.
Natalie was an up-and-coming agent at one of the biggest agencies in London. She had spotted me performing in a small pub theatre a few years ago and had signed me the following week. I’d called my mum and cried down the phone, saying this was it – that it would all be worth it, because I’d finally got my big break.
But a few years had passed and still no real luck, aside from the occasional local theatre production and some advertising work. ‘Nat,’ I said, beginning to shake. ‘Is this actually happening? I’m not lucid dreaming, right?’
‘It’s happening,’ she said, sounding as astounded as me. We were silent for a few seconds, our shared excitement filling the space. A small, bright flame inside me lit, again, spreading warmth through my limbs.
A screen test was big – further than I’d ever been in the process before. This audition had been a complete shot in the dark: a screen adaptation of one of my favourite books, about a female detective investigating a string of murders in 800s London. As dream roles go, it was pretty much at the top of the list.
There was a less than zero chance I ever thought I’d get it.
And now, I was one of the few front-runners for the role.
I could almost feel the part in my hands.
Perhaps, just perhaps, this would be it , I thought, a spike of joy travelling up my spine. The break I’d been waiting for, for years now, while I tried desperately to keep my eyes focused on the next audition, the next tape, the next shot. You only have to get lucky once , my dad had said to me when I’d first started.
For a half-second I allowed myself to imagine a future of financial freedom and creative liberation, my dreams being fulfilled over and over again. Then she spoke again, and my stomach dropped to the floor.
‘It will be with Avi Kumar,’ ‘Sorry?’ I said, shaking myself back to reality. Surely she couldn’t have said that name.
She repeated herself, the words hitting me this time. Each one a carefully aimed dart to my chest.
Shit.
Avi Kumar is one of the world’s most famous men, gracing the cover of GQ as its Man of the Year last year. Described as ‘the Darling of Hollywood’, ushering in a new generation of male British actors, he has been cast in everything from Marvel films to rom-coms to period dramas. Recently rumoured to be dating supermodel-turned-actress Sienna Marsh, who has twice been voted the most beautiful woman in the world, making him one half of the industry’s newest power couple.
But I didn’t know that Avi Kumar.
I knew the funny, dishevelled Avi Kumar I had met when I first moved to London. Who showed me the ropes at the theatre pub where we both worked as struggling actors, and taught me to pull the perfect pint. Who I shared my dreams with… because they were his, too.
Avi, who I trusted possibly more than I had ever trusted anyone else.
Who broke my heart, and almost ruined my career in the process.
‘Right,’ I practically choked. Oh God.
‘You’ll be great,’ Nat said, worry entering her tone. ‘I know he’s a huge name, Lara, but—’
If only she knew.
‘It’s fine,’ I lied. I had imagined this moment so many times: finally being in a room with Avi. Finally being able to ask him all the questions that had burned in my mind for months afterwards, as I watched his star rise into the stratosphere, his face everywhere I looked.
I just never thought it would be like this.
‘I know him ... from before he was famous,’ I continued, levelling my tone so she couldn’t hear the emotions burning through me. ‘So was just a little shocked to hear the name, that’s all.’
‘You know him?’ she said, sounding shell-shocked. ‘How did I not know this, Lara?’ she asked, clearly meaning we-very-much-could-have-used-this-connection .
‘We haven’t spoken in a while,’ I said, regretting mentioning it now. I suddenly felt a little faint. ‘Since he got famous, actually.’
‘Ah,’ she replied, seeming to intuit that it was a sore subject, and that she shouldn’t press further. ‘Well – you’re in the room, now. He might be a name, but you’re there too. And that’s all that matters, in the moment. And the notes I have from other clients are that he’s very professional to screen test with, if that helps.’
It didn’t help. It didn’t help at all.
‘Thanks, Nat,’ I said anyway, my heart pounding at the thought of seeing him in person, again.
For a hair’s breadth of a second, it was almost enough to make me want to call the whole thing off. But I’d wanted this for so long, and this was a bigger chance than I ever thought I’d get. And I had promised myself I’d never let my feelings for anyone mess with my career again.
Especially not Avi Kumar.
I just didn’t know whether that would be under my control, or how it would be to see him after all this time.
‘So Tuesday, then,’ Nat said, clearing her throat. ‘I’ll email you the details.’
‘Looking forward to it,’ I half-lied. I still felt like I was about to vomit with nerves – about seeing Avi, or the audition, I wasn’t sure.
But even still, excitement coursed through my veins, my hand shaking as I hung up the phone.
Shit .
This could be it. This could finally, finally be it.
And in that moment, determination washed over me.
Avi Kumar or no Avi Kumar, I was going to do everything it took to get that part.