3.
My voice was exhausted from repeating itself over and over again in the voice over studio. It was not where I wanted to be but since the role I’d auditioned for in Durban had not come my way, I had to be grateful for whatever work did. Still, I sullenly wondered if that big break would ever come my way.
I collapsed onto my couch not bothering to put even the TV on. My head found a comfortable spot on the cushion, and I closed my eyes searching for sleep. Much to my annoyance a “doof doof doof” sound bounced off the walls, and I knew that the sleep I so desired was not going to happen anytime soon. My neighbours were a bunch of students that love to party almost every night. However, there were never any complaints as the entire block of flats joined in and had the best student years of their lives. I was the odd one out in the building, simply because I was the only one that was not a student and worked for a living. Sometimes I went to the parties and for an hour or two I had a bit of fun, but it always ended up the same – the smoke choked my throat and trying to keep up a conversation with a drunken twenty-something was impossible.
Tonight I chose to stay home and nurse my sullen mood. There was another reason to my downcast mood and perhaps it was more this than work – I had not heard from Callum since we’d said goodbye to each other in Durban. It bothered me why he had taken my number if he had no intention of using it. And what irritated me more was that I liked him, even if I had only known him for a few hours.
My mother had made it her mission to find her twenty-five-year-old daughter a husband. She had set me up with more dates than I could remember but they’d all failed after the first attempt. Even the young men at church failed to make any impression on me. It was not that I had exceptionally high standards or a peculiar taste or that there was anything wrong with the males in my world, there was simply no enthusiasm from me. With Callum, I thought that might all change, but I guess I thought wrong.
One morning on my way to the studio where I would repeat myself over and over again, my phone rang and since there was a cop car behind me I thought it best to let the call go to voicemail. Sitting in the parking lot before getting out of my little old Ford I listened to the voice message.
‘Skye, this is Jeska, please phone me as soon as you get this message. I have a terrific audition lined up for you.’
I returned her call immediately, ‘Hi Jeska.’
‘Oh Skye, I have a fantastic audition for you. There is a huge international production happening here in Cape Town at the new studios and lucky for you I know most of the local directors and producers on a personal level. I’ve sent them your résumé, and you have an audition next week Wednesday.’
‘Oh really, really? Oh Jeska, how perfect that will be for me, maybe this will be my big break at last. But it’s unfair to all the other women auditioning for the part if you’ve arranged it already.’
‘Oh no my dear, I’ve only put in a good word for you and they might take special notice of you but nothing is a given. You’ll have to fight for the part as much as any other woman. I’ve sent you an email with the part you will have to read as well as all the audition details. Good luck Skye, I know this part will be perfect for you.’
When I got the email from Jeska during my lunch break I read through it and immediately knew that she was right, this role was perfect for me. I just had to get it. I had such a difficult afternoon trying to concentrate on what I was supposed to be saying when all I wanted to do was learn the lines for the audition.
At home, I studied and studied the part and did the same whenever I had even a moment free. I threw myself into the character of the woman I hoped to play. Even the parties at my neighbours’ flats did not deter me from perfecting the part.
When the day of the audition finally arrived I woke up nervous, but a good nervous, a positive nervous. I walked between the huge ominous buildings of Faure Studios, feeling minute and insignificant. My long mauve skirt fluttered with the breeze that blew through the alley as I pushed past people. People carrying props, people carrying papers and files, people hurrying, running, walking slowly, some driving in carts or riding bicycles or even mopeds, and, all in all, it was a truly fascinating hive of activity.
I reached Studio Two and opened the small door cut out of the huge sliding door almost the size of the studio’s front wall. When I arrived in the audition room, I sat next to an old lady and wondered why she would be auditioning for the role of a twenty-two-year-old. I greeted her with a pleasant smile and looked at the other ladies also waiting. They were all elderly. Was I in the right studio? Quickly I reached for the confirmation email in my bag and checked the details. I had it wrong! This audition was for the role of the mother, and my audition was for the next day – it was only Tuesday! Blushing like an idiot and knowing now why I’d been given such strange looks when I’d walked in, I laughed and hurriedly disappeared from the room feeling stupidly foolish.
It was a long evening trying to pass the time, so much so that I eventually went to visit my noisy neighbour for a few hours. The usual bunch of young men and women occupied the small flat, talking more and more rubbish the more alcohol they consumed. By ten o’clock I’d had enough and left. I watched a movie on TV to pass the time and finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning.