7. Cassie
I walk into Carla’s office to find Marcy sitting at her desk frantically searching through papers, grunting with every page she picks up, and throwing them on the floor.
“Everything okay?” I ask. She looks to acknowledge me, shrugs, and directs her eyes back to her stack of papers. I decide to take a seat and wait for her to find whatever she’s looking for.
The phone on the desk rings. Marcy side-eyes it, but doesn’t move to answer. It continues to ring.
“Ugh.” Marcy picks up the phone. “What?” She keeps her tone short, not even offering a greeting. Just a demand to whomever is on the other side of the line. “You have to be fucking kidding me. What are we supposed to do, Lane?” A pause. An eye roll. “You’re the one running casting. You’re supposed to have a list of people for these kinds of things. Where can we find someone at the last minute?” Another pause. Longer this time. She now looks at me and widens her eyes. “Wait, Lane, Cassie will do it.” She can’t mean what I think she means. No. She wouldn’t. It’s still my first week. Marcy just smiles and nods a few times at whatever Lane is saying on the phone. “You’re fucking lucky. You better have a list of people on speed dial in case this happens again. Carla not being here today is one thing. Having to deal with your casting fuckups is another. I don’t have time for it.”
Wait, casting fuckup? She volunteered me for something. She can’t mean, no, there is no way she just said I would fill in for someone.
Marcy hangs up and stands from the desk. Walking past me, she heads toward the front of the room, toward the door. “Cassie, you coming?”
Oh. “Yes. Um, what am I doing, exactly?” I stand from the chair, throwing my bag back over my shoulder and rushing to meet her by the door.
She looks over her shoulder as we descend the stairs. “Oh, I need an extra today for a café scene. Lane reminded me you have acting experience.” Shit. Shit. Shit. He must have remembered from when we hung out the other night. Just because I have acting experience doesn’t mean I want to play an extra in this movie. On short notice.
“You don’t need me to do anything else?” I ask, secretly hoping she needs me to do something way more important than be an extra. I’m sure someone else can do it. Literally anyone else.
“Nope, this is more important. Plus, you have a line or two to deliver and I don’t know anyone else that works here that can confidently do that,” Marcy says.
We reach the set and find Ed sitting in his director’s chair, one leg crossed over the other. He’s holding his clipboard with his left hand and flipping through pages with his right. His glasses are slowly falling down his nose, but he doesn’t push them back. He’s studying whatever’s in front of him with great intent.
He finally looks to see us walking his way. “Ah, ladies! To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I smile and offer a small wave.
“Cassie here is going to fill in as your café extra today,” Marcy says, glancing at me with a smile. I wonder if this is some sort of revenge for hanging out with Emmett the other night. I know they’re close.
Ed’s eyes widen. He slams his clipboard on his lap, followed by both hands on top of it. “That’s incredible news! Cassie, my dear, have you been briefed about your lines?”
I look at Marcy, who seems to be too busy with something on her phone to even care about the conversation.
I shake my head. “No, but I’m a quick learner,” I say. I’m good at learning lines quickly. You kind of have to be when you move out here. Auditions happen on such short notice sometimes. It’s an excellent skill to have. Memorizing one line is one thing, becoming the character is another.
Ed briefs me on the role. I’ll be playing a barista for a coffee shop, Cooper’s Coffee. It’s a minor scene. I have to stand at the register, take an order, and smile. In that order. Should be easy enough, considering I take orders at the diner regularly. I just need to think of this as a warmup for my acting class tonight. Ed sends me off to the wardrobe department, where I receive a tan ball cap with ‘Cooper’s Coffee’ in red embroidery and an apron to match. I realize I didn’t ask who I’m filming with. I look down at the sheet of paper with my lines. Michael. I don’t know who’s playing Michael. I shake my head. It’s too late to back out now. Plus, they don’t have anyone else, I’m already here for work, and I can use the extra money.
A costume designer directs me back to the set to wait for filming to begin. I had all of 20 minutes to memorize my lines and pray to the acting gods to please let me remember them. I’d like to look like I know what I’m doing since this is for a movie. Oh, my god. I’m going to be in a movie. My palms start sweating, my heart beats a million times a minute, and I suddenly feel like I can run a marathon with all of this nervous energy. This doesn’t check off the “land a leading role” item on my life plan, but it’s a fun experience so far.
I look around the set to take my mind off filming. It’s a small coffee shop. There are a handful of tables full of other extras acting as patrons. I’m behind a coffee bar at the back of the set, with another extra who is the one “making” the drinks. I don’t remember his name, but he’s been working as an extra at January Studios for a few years now. He gave me a few pointers. A lot of things don’t apply to me, like speaking to the crew and not making any noise when I’m not supposed to. He also said to not speak to any of the principal actors, to which I just have to smile and nod.
He doesn’t need to know I’m friends with the same principal actor walking toward the set right now. Since I’m wearing a baseball cap, I don’t expect Emmett to meet my gaze. He stops by Ed on the edge of the set, so he hasn’t even looked in my direction yet.
The music in the café plays, and the extras sitting in chairs start talking. I quickly shake any remaining nerves off at the same time Ed yells ‘action.’
I’m looking at the register when Emmett approaches. He has the first line, so I’m just pretending to clean the counter while I wait for him to speak.
“Hi there,” Emmett says.
I meet his gaze. He smiles and tilts his head in confusion, but still seems happy to see me. I smile back.
“Hi, welcome to Cooper’s Coffee. What can I get started for you today?” I am holding a cup in my left hand, a marker in my right, getting ready to write his order on the cup.
“Black coffee, large. Two sugars.”
“And your name?” I ask.
“Michael.”
“Michael,” I repeat, while writing the name on the cup. I pretend to ring the order into the register. “That will be $3.50.”
Emmett reaches for his wallet in his jacket pocket and pulls out $20. He hands me the bill, our hands touching a little longer than necessary, before he pulls away. “Keep the change.” He winks and walks to the end of the bar.
I”m not sure if the wink was part of the script or just for me. I put the money in the register, pull out the change that was already set aside, and dump it into the tip jar. When I shift my attention to the end of the bar, Emmett”s piercing stare captivates me, his eyes reflecting a subtle shimmer. This brief encounter is bound to come up in conversation later.
Emmett gets his coffee from my fake co-worker, looks at me one last time, then turns toward the edge of the set and walks out the fake door. Ed calls “cut.”
We’re told we don’t need to film again, which I’m grateful for. This opportunity surprised me a bit with Emmett being the principal actor on set, but it was…easy? When he offered to rehearse with me yesterday and I said no, I never could have imagined acting together so soon. As soon as my gaze met his, I knew I’d have no trouble remembering my lines. They were at the tip of my tongue, ready to spill out. The café faded away, and it was just him and me. It should scare me how that made me feel, but I feel quite the opposite. Intrigued, maybe even wanting to do it again.
I exit Cooper’s Coffee and make my way back to Ed to make sure I’m okay to leave the set. Emmett is standing to his right, peering over his clipboard to look at something Ed is pointing to.
“Cassie! You did great!” Ed holds up his hand, asking for a high-five.
I slap my hand into his. “Thanks, Ed. All of those years of acting prepared me for this moment,” I say with sarcasm and a smile.
That gets a chuckle out of him. “Well, you can tell. You and Emmett are natural when acting together! I would have never guessed you’ve only known each other for a few days,” Ed says.
I glance at Emmett at the same time he looks at me, which adds to the flush in my cheeks. I quickly look back at Ed.
“I’m glad you could fill in today. It would have been a disaster if you couldn’t. If you didn’t start working here this week, we would have had to delay shooting just because of how much trouble we’ve had with extras! It’s normally not a big deal. But this movie has to do well, which means we have to cast extras with experience.” Ed nods, like he was saying it more to himself than to me, but I nod back.
“I’m happy to help, Ed. I should probably go find Marcy, though, see if she wants me to help with any post-lunch tasks.”
Ed mumbles something before he’s back to looking at his clipboard. I give a small smile to Emmett and turn to walk off set, hoping to find Marcy somewhere around the upstairs offices. Just as I start walking, someone grabs my wrist and pulls me back. I fall into a firm chest, instinctively grabbing onto it with my free hand to regain my balance. My heart races as another hand snags around my waist, anchoring me to the person I was about to crash into.
My breathing is strained after the suddenness of almost falling. I look up to see a pair of familiar brown eyes staring at me, our faces inches from one another. All it would take is a slight lean forward from him and me stretching on my toes, and our lips would be on the verge of a kiss.
He releases his grasp, and I take a step back. His right hand moves through his hair, a gesture of nervous energy that matches the unease in his eyes. I look around to see if anyone saw, but I don’t see anyone looking in our direction. Explaining to Ed or Marcy that Emmett and I are simply friends, not romantically involved, is something I”d rather avoid.
“Goodness, Emmett. You could have just called my name to stop me. It would have been just as effective,” I say, placing my right hand on my hip and shifting my weight to my right side.
“I was trying to be secretive,” he says, dipping his head and looking to the left and then to the right before returning his eyes to me. “I don’t like how you left without saying bye.”
“Oh, um, I smiled at you?” I shrug.
“Not good enough, Sass.” Emmett crosses his arms, mocking me. How does he manage to look sexy instead of intimidating when he does it?
“I’ll remember for next time. Bye, Emmett.” It’s my turn to wink at him before I turn back around to leave the set. He doesn’t stop me this time.
I don’t see Emmett for the rest of the day.
Marcy has me cleaning and organizing random offices I didn’t even know existed. She’s handling all the set duties for today. I don’t know if she thinks I want to be away from the set since I was an extra this morning, or if she’s wanting to keep me away from Emmett. Either way, I’m kind of grateful. I get to sit in the same room, with music in my ears, instead of walking around the set from one side to the other, over and over. My legs are thankful for the break.
I’ve been texting Emmett anyway, so it doesn’t matter that I haven’t seen him. He’s been filling me in on everything happening on the other side of the studio: if filming is on schedule, what snacks are out on the table, Ed’s moods after filming a scene. You know, the usual. Although nothing eventful happens, my stomach still flutters with every text I receive.
I text Annie too, helping her plan her move to LA this fall. We also talk about how to tell our mother, who still thinks Annie”s going to be attending Indiana University, which is just a short drive from her house. Annie is a lot closer to my mom than I am. Even before she told me I wouldn’t make it in Los Angeles, my mom and I never got along. She was always working, or hanging out with her friends, or doing something she didn’t invite us to. For as long as I could remember, I was the one in charge, watching Annie, making sure she got to school on time. I was the big sister, yet Annie was more my responsibility than our mom’s.
When I found acting, it was like I found what I was meant to be doing with my life. Even as a teenager, I knew I had to make this my career. I remember saving tips from the diner I was working at and being so proud when I finally had enough saved to take a small trip out west. I went to ask my mom, thinking she would smile and hug me and say she’s proud, but that didn’t happen. She sighed deeply, asked if I thought I could be better than everyone else, scoffed, and said, “You’re going to do what you want anyway,” and walked away. I packed my bags and left the next week.
Annie understands, but she also wants our mom to understand. So, her coming out this fall is a big deal. I know Annie has this big idea of us making up; her being happy for Annie, encouraging Annie, helping Annie move, but I don’t see it happening.
I send her a text to let her know I’ll call her later to talk about it. I have to finish up in this room and head to my acting class in a little while.
After a few more hours of cleaning and organizing, I tell Marcy I’ll see her tomorrow.
I get to my acting class a few minutes early and find a seat. It takes place in a back room of a coffee shop by our apartment, the same one I originally found the paper to join in. We moved here shortly after since it was closer to where most of us lived, and being able to get coffee at any point during class is always a plus.
I call it class, but I could also call it a club. A group of people who all want to be actors. Some are from here, most are transplants. We all have side jobs in various industries: retail worker, construction site manager, bartender, bus driver. The amount of acting experience each person has also varies. One guy only joined the club because he was bored and his girlfriend was in the class. I think he’s a better actor than she is, but that’s my secret. There is another person who has been acting for 20 years. They typically take on extra roles or small independent films, and they always have the best advice when I try to improv.
My favorite part about the group is that everyone is honest and is there to find people that love acting as much as they do.
We have small performances with each other throughout the year, but we only do one big showcase a year. That’s the one coming up at the end of July.
We start every class with a warmup. Typically, we start with a call and response game called “Big Booty,” which is also Tom Hiddlestons’ favorite way to warm up. We sit in a circle and designate one person to be Big Booty, aka the leader of the game. We designate a number to other players. A player will respond when their number is called and call out another player, or Big Booty. The player you choose doesn’t matter, as long as you keep the 4/4 rhythm. It might sound ridiculous, but it’s a lot of fun and gets us laughing, which can be important after a long day of dealing with our daily lives and problems.
After warming up, there are a few things we might do. Trust exercises or improv might be on the agenda. We might perform a monologue if we receive scripts ahead of time. As a group, we typically collaborate to plan out the next few sessions. To prepare for the showcase, we”re practicing short monologues and reading scripts.
It’s not my favorite. In fact, part of me wishes I could escape to the back of the room and just watch. When I was told I had to do romance for my scene, I thought I was being pranked. Honestly, I thought the teacher wouldn”t give me a romance script. I knew I had to do a different genre, but romance? I like to read and watch romance, but romantic acting is not my cup of tea.
But that’s the point, right? To get me out of my comfort zone? Make me a better actor? After acting this morning with Emmett, I’m wondering if saying no to him as a rehearsal partner was a bad idea. Maybe he could help me? It felt natural… and had the chemistry I wish I had with someone else in my class. No matter who I practice lines with, it always feels forced, and I can”t seem to move past it. But I don’t think I’m at the point where I need to look desperate for help. I’ll be fine. I”ve been alone for this long, I can certainly navigate my way through this.