Chapter 9 Chad’s Audition
NINE
Chad’s Audition
Chad
The casting office was a converted warehouse trying very hard to look "artistic," but mostly looked like a juice bar waiting to happen.
Chad arrived seventeen minutes late, blaming traffic. In truth, he’d spent fifteen minutes in his Tesla rehearsing his “brooding but bankable” expression in the rearview mirror. He clutched a hastily printed résumé and kept his phone open to LinkedIn.
The receptionist looked up. "Can I help you?"
"I'm here for the audition," Chad said, slightly out of breath. "Caleb Hart personally invited me."
The receptionist's face flickered with confusion. "Caleb...?"
"Hart. The actor. He told me to come."
"Oh." She picked up the phone, murmured something Chad couldn't hear, hung up. Her expression was carefully neutral. "Have a seat. Someone will be with you."
Chad sat.
And sat.
And checked his phone.
And sat some more.
Finally, a woman with a clipboard and an expression that suggested she'd been doing this for twelve hours appeared.
"Chad Watkins?"
Close enough.
"That's me."
"Follow me."
She led him down a hallway that smelled like old coffee and desperation, into a small room with one camera on a tripod, one folding chair, and three people behind a folding table who looked like they'd survived ten years of casting calls since noon.
"So," the woman said, glancing at her notes like they might contain answers to questions she hadn't asked yet. "You're here for...?"
"The role," Chad said confidently. "Caleb Hart told me about it."
The three people behind the table exchanged glances.
One of them, a man who looked exhausted in a way that suggested this casting process had been personally victimizing him for hours, leaned forward. "Did he say... which role?"
"He said you'd know," Chad said, smiling. "He said I had the energy for it."
Another pause.
The woman cleared her throat. "Okay. We're going to have you read a few sides. Just... do your best."
She handed him a script.
Chad looked down at the pages.
CHARACTER: THE EX
JAKE (late 20s, convinced he's the hero of this story, is actually the obstacle) stands in the doorway, blocking EMMA's exit.
JAKE: But I thought we had something real! You can't just—you can't just walk away from three years!
EMMA: I'm not walking away from three years. I'm walking away from you.
Chad's smile faltered. "This is... the ex-boyfriend?"
"Yeah," the woman said. "Supporting role. Three scenes total, mostly reaction shots to the protagonist's journey."
"I thought—" Chad's voice climbed slightly. "Caleb said this was a leading role—"
"No, It's the ex."
An awkward silence filled the room.
Chad cleared his throat. Reminded himself he was here. He had the part. This was happening. "Okay," he said. "Sure. I can do that."
The woman gestured. "Whenever you're ready."
Chad took a breath.
And then he performed.
He delivered the lines like he was giving the keynote at a sales conference. Loud. Emphatic. Pausing for impact that never landed. He pointed at the camera like it owed him money.
"But I thought we had something REAL!" Chad boomed, his voice echoing off the warehouse walls. "You can't just—you can't just WALK AWAY from three years!"
He threw his arms wide and stepped toward the camera.
Behind the table, the three people sat very, very still.
Chad finished, breathing hard, energized, certain. The pause stretched so long he could hear the fluorescent lights humming.
The woman blinked. "That was... certainly a choice."
"Is this..." The woman looked at her clipboard, then back at Chad, her expression caught between confusion and the beginning of hysteria. "Is this a prank?"
Chad froze. "What?"
"Did someone send you here as a joke?"
"No! Caleb Hart—"
"Oh my god," one of the men whispered, and then he laughed, just once, before he reined himself back in.
The woman tried to maintain composure. "That's—" She couldn't finish. "We'll be in touch. Thank you for coming in."
"But—" Chad gestured at the camera, at the script, at the room. "Don't you want me to read the other scenes—"
"We're good," the woman said, her voice strained. "Really. We're good."
"Thank you for coming in."
Chad stood there, his resume still in one hand, his confidence vibrating like a live wire.
"Okay," he paused. "Great. I thought—I mean, I felt like that went really well—"
Behind the table, someone made a noise.
It might have been agreement.
It was definitely laughter.
Chad left the room. head high.
Behind him, he heard the explosion.
Laughter, loud and uncontrolled.
Someone gasped. Someone else said, "Oh my god."
Chad smiled to himself. They loved it.
Inside the room, the woman pulled out her phone, tears streaming down her face.
"Caleb? It's Mara. Did you actually send that guy?"
She dissolved into giggles. “That was the funniest thing I’ve seen all month.”
Chad walked out of the building into the late afternoon sun.
He'd nailed the audition.
Tonight, he'd nail the gala.
Everything, finally, was going his way.