"Amy--"
"No."
Amy turned the page of her novel and adjusted her feet on the flower-print couch as she took another sip of her coffee.
"But--"
"No."
Amy curled a lock of wavy, light brunette hair around a finger, absently nibbling on her lower lip as she read. She was comfortably dressed in gray sweats and a pale pink T-shirt that said 'N.Y.U.' on the front left quadrant. She wore white crewsocks with pink toes and heels and had her house-slippers beside her on the floor. Amy was the picture of repose.
Her roommate on the other hand tapped her fingernails on the bar counter of the kitchenette in their small apartment. She moved her hazel eyes back to the newspaper, picked it up to get a closer look, and slapped it down before turning and facing the occupant of the couch.
"Amy, it's a movie!"
Amy's green eyes lifted briefly from the novel, it was quite thick, and met the hazel ones of her roommate. "I told you I wasn't going to go to another one of those - whatever you want to call them - again."
The roommate frowned. "I'm sorry about the last one. I didn't know. I swear."
Amy lowered her eyes back to the book and took another sip of coffee. "I accept that, but I'm not going to another one. I'm not meant to be--"
"Don't be silly," the roommate scoffed. "Of course you are! And this could be it. Really."
"That's what you said last time, Renee."
Renee rolled her eyes and lifted her hands into the air. "This is the last time. I promise," she finally said.
Amy lifted her eyes, gauged her roommate's serious and pleading expression, and then lowered her eyes back to her book. Amy sighed and turned the page. "Let me finish my coffee."
"Yes!" And Renee disappeared into one of the small bedrooms to change.
When the girls saw the long line of people, they knew their chance was slim to none. Renee however, refused to be daunted and pressed onward, going so far as to even bully her way through and into the office. Amy had given up protesting a long time ago. Instead, she allowed herself to be dragged along, apologizing to those pushed aside.
Finally, Renee had the location she wanted and they settled to wait.
"This is so exciting," Renee said, smiling.
Amy sighed as she looked around the office. Excitement had worn off weeks ago. Now she only wanted to go home; her real home in Illinois. New York City didn't fascinate her anymore... Amy arched an eyebrow when raised voices were heard come from the inner office. Renee tugged on her arm and Amy absently stepped forward. The mumbles and voices were heard again, but she couldn't make them out. It was definitely an argument, but... Another tug, another step. Amy gave a startled jolt and a blink when the door of the inner office slammed open and a tall, athletic figure of a man with long white hair and a startling profile strode from beyond. He halted at the threshold of the office and turned, a hand lifting to point an accusing and threatening finger at the man within.
"If you truly want me involved with this production, then you will rethink your decision regarding her," the man with the white hair said in a crisp English accent. "I refuse to work with the trollop."
"Harrison," the other man said, arms outstretched, "she's the only one that can handle the role."
"Bah!" 'Harrison' gestured behind him without looking. "I wager I could find at least five young women more apt to the role than Fiona."
"I still say an inexperienced actor can't handle it."
"And a woman with the morals of a Madam can't be expected to portray innocence," Harrison countered harshly.
The man pressed his lips together in a thin line as a blood vessel suddenly appeared on his forehead. "Harrison--"
"If I don't have the final say on the cast, Max," Harrison threatened in a low tone, "then I walk. This is your last warning." He turned sharply and headed toward the exit of the main office, navigating his way through the dozens of occupants.
Amy watched his escape with wide eyes. "It's Garret Harrison," she whispered to Renee.
"Who?"
"Sir Garret Harrison. From the Royal Shakespeare Company." Amy sent Renee an annoyed glare. "Don't you know anyone outside of People or The Enquirer?"
"From where?"
Amy placed her hands on her hips. "Oh for pete's sake."
Renee's eyes went up over Amy's head, and her mouth dropped slightly open. Amy arched an eyebrow and then cast a careful glance over her shoulder. 'Sir Garret Harrison' stood directly behind her.
Amy flushed and turned full around. "Oh. I'm sorry," she told him. "Am I in your way?"
Mr. Harrison didn't respond. The scowl didn't vanish from his face, either. He only motioned to her folder and asked, "May I?"
Amy looked down to the portfolio within her hands, measly though it was, and handed it to him. "Of course."
Mr. Harrison opened the folder and briefly glanced through it, occasionally raising his eyes to scrutinize her face and carriage. Then he slapped the folder closed, stalked to the man still standing in the doorway of the inner office, and smacked the folder against his chest.
"Her."
"What? Harrison, you can't--"
"Don't push me, Max," Mr. Harrison said in a dangerous voice. "It's her or I wash my hands of this picture."
Then he strode from the room. All eyes focused on Max as he scowled after Mr. Harrison. Finally, Max moved those hard silver eyes to Amy. "Congratulations, young lady. You're now Aeris Gainsborough."
Renee squealed. Amy just blinked.