2.
I stood in the centre of the white studio grateful my clothes had dried out almost completely and that the people in charge of the auditions were understanding, if not rather amused as to why I looked as if I had peed my pants. My head still ached to make it difficult to concentrate on giving the audition my best shot. I had studied the lines I’d been given to read but every time I looked up, a sharp pain stabbed through my eye causing me to squint and grimace. The piece I was reading was a happy section and a frown on my face would certainly throw out my chance of getting the part. After a few trial runs by myself in the waiting room, I figured if I moved my head slightly to the left instead of up there was no pain. I mentally gave Logan a smack for putting me under such unnecessary stress.
‘Go ahead,’ the lady said from the back of the studio.
I cleared my throat and went ahead with the reading, with the pain a constant reminder not to look upward. I pulled off what I felt was a good audition, full of expression and with pauses at just the right moments. I felt good when I finished even if my head was still throbbing.
‘Thank you,’ the same lady said, and I thanked them back and left.
As I left the waiting room and was walking towards the elevator, I heard a scream coming from the adjoining studio. My head wanted to burst from the high-pitched sound waves pulsating through it. I shuddered and pressed the button for the elevator hoping it would not take ages to fetch me. While I waited, the studio door opened, and Logan came running down the narrow corridor at top speed.
‘Good grief, no, this is not possible…’ I muttered aghast.
‘Wow, Hi Skye, third time we meet in one day,’ Callum said with a huge grin while rushing passed me to catch Logan before he wreaked havoc in the building.
‘Well, I think you are following me around. I thought you were taking him to your sister’s?’
‘After I’m finished here, which was probably a bad idea in the first place, this child is so busy and loud.’
‘And naughty!' I added.
‘Yes, that too. So what are you doing here?’ he asked while struggling to keep Logan in his arms.
I gave Logan one of my stares. It was easy to look very stern as the pain from my headache enhanced the seriousness on my face. He took one look at me and calmed down, probably remembering what had happened on the airplane.
‘I need to learn how to make those evil eyes. Maybe then I would hang around with him a bit more.’
‘He’s the reason I have a pounding headache, so he deserves the evil eyes,’ I said as I rubbed my forehead trying to erase the pain stretched across my brows.
‘So you still haven’t answered my question?’
‘I had an audition in Studio Five. What are you doing here?’
‘I had a meeting with the sound engineers for the same project that you auditioned. I work freelance for them.’
‘You’re going to be working on the movie?’
The surprise showed on my face.
‘Yes, why does that sound so surprising?’
‘I don’t know. It’s a Christian production. I didn’t think you were a Christian…’ I trailed off.
‘Well that is not very good now is it? I guess I’d better work on my people skills.’
‘No, sorry I'm rude. Please don’t listen to anything I say. I’m probably the worst example right now. Sorry.’
I felt so rude and so bad for judging him. I was not in a good mood, and, therefore, reviewed everyone in a negative light. I did not know him from a bar of soap so who was I to judge him?
‘I have another hour or so before I leave so how about I buy you an apology coffee?’
He had that same mischievous grin Logan had, clearly a genetic trait.
‘As long as I can get painkillers to go with it,’ I said stepping into the lift and turning to face the doors, watching Logan try to press every button before Callum moved to the back eliminating anything from his reach.
‘I hope the painkillers are for your head and not Logan.’
‘Don’t make me laugh, it hurts,’ I laughed rubbing my eyes.
Before I ordered anything I begged the waitress to bring me a glass of water so that I could swallow the pills I had bought at the store next door, and I prayed that the pain would ease quickly.
If job titles had looks, then Callum looked more like a painter than a sound engineer. He seemed to be a gentle person with a good sense of humour. His smile enhanced his deep-set green eyes. His mop of pitch black hair sloppily shaped around his oval face, and his fashion sense matched his sloppy hair.
The waitress brought some paper and crayons to keep Logan occupied, along with his milkshake. It was not even a minute, and the milkshake was spilt all over the paper and Logan himself, which sent him into a very loud tantrum. I held my head in my hands in case it exploded. Callum took him to the bathroom while the waitress cleaned the table and removed the paper and crayons. I apologised on behalf of Logan and explained that he did not belong to either of us. Then I ordered another milkshake. When they returned, I could see that Callum was highly annoyed and frustrated. He was clearly not used to having a child around him, let alone a spoilt one like Logan.
‘So how come you got the task of being chaperon?’
‘He was supposed to stay with my parents for another week, but they just could not handle him anymore. He has been with them for a month, and they are exhausted. My parents are in their late seventies so having a busy young boy that does not know how to listen was too much for them. When they heard I was flying up today they grabbed the opportunity to send him home earlier. Can’t say I blame them, I’ve had him for less than a day, and I’ve had enough already.’
Logan sat still and drank his milkshake and for that very brief time if anyone had seen him they might have thought him to be a perfectly well-behaved little boy – but only for that very short time.
‘Are there any brothers or sisters?’
‘No just him. My sister battled to have children so when he came along, well, it was truly a blessing that turned into a nightmare. She cannot have anymore so this little fellow is all they have. I don’t know how they will deal with him when he’s older, he’s three now and is already impossible.’
I had an image of Logan in his late teens sitting in the headmaster’s office for the umpteenth time, on the verge of expulsion for his behaviour. I smiled ruefully. Our time was up quicker than expected and we both had to be on our way. We exchanged contact numbers and left the coffee shop.
My head still pounding, I rested it gently against the headrest of the plane’s seat and prayed that I had done enough to get a callback. I thought about seeing Callum again and how nice it would be to work with him on set. Very nice indeed.