“I’ll think about it. But I’m not willing to commit yet.”
“Okay. But as soon as you make up your mind, let me know and I’ll get it arranged.”
We spent the next twenty minutes talking about gossip from around the complex. By that time, it was almost 1:30, so I really needed to get into the shower and get moving if I was going to make the audition on time.
We said goodbye, then I headed off to get ready for my first major audition in almost three and a half years.
Chapter 3
Igotoutofthe shower and immediately set about getting myself put together. I made sure my hair was pulled back and out of my face while still fashionable. I’d almost dyed it purple last week, so I was glad I hadn’t made that decision. Not sure if the purple hair would go with the forest green turtleneck underneath a black knit sweater and cranberry-colored knee-length skirt. Johnny had convinced me that a hint of Christmas was good, but I didn’t want to come right out and saySanta’s mistress. I had black leggings underneath, then I slipped into a simple pair of four-inch pumps. They would be easy to walk in no matter what the weather and wouldn’t detract from my outfit. The last thing I wanted was a casting agent to look at my shoes instead of me during an audition. Immediately, I heard the lyrics from Jason Robert Brown’s song “Climbing Uphill” fromThe Last Five Yearsrunning through my head.
I touched up my makeup. I wanted to look put together and natural. I’ve seen some new girls in the business paint for the back row when they go on auditions, which is never a bright idea. Painting for the back row may look great from the mezzanine, but it makes you look like a clown in harsh fluorescent lighting to people sitting ten feet from you. I’d made that mistake on my first non-Equity audition. Thankfully, an older actor took me aside and was like, “Honey, no. You look like you’re auditioning for the role of the clown in the revival ofBarnum. Go wash your face. Just use a simple lip gloss. Nothing else.“ I must have looked affronted because he added, “You’re clearly beautiful under all that paint, so don’t hide under it.”
I did as he said. In retrospect, he was unbelievably right. I ended up booking a job—a touring production ofGodspell. After the audition, I wanted to thank him, but I never saw him again. In fact, I haven’t seen my guardian angel at any audition ever. Of course, I’d end up with an old queen for a guardian angel. There’s something entirely appropriate about that.
I looked at myself in my full-length mirror and did a twirl to make sure everything looked perfect. I put on my watch and no other jewelry. Again, the focus needed to be on me and not on what I’m wearing. I went into the living room and found Bootsy curled up on the couch. I made sure he had plenty of water and kibble—just in case he ate while I was out. He rarely did, but I always ensured it was there for him if he wanted it.
I grabbed my simple, black bag that held my audition music and a few other necessities before looking at myself one last time in the hallway mirror.I look good. I’d hire me.Of course, I didn’t know what I was auditioning for, so I was ready for whatever the casting agents threw my way.
I grabbed my coat from the peg next to the front door. I opened the door and caught it with my foot while I put down my bag, slipped my jacket on and backed out into the hall.
“Watch it!” I said as I bumped into something.
“Sorry, didn’t see you coming out of your apartment,” a voice below me said.
I looked down. A young woman in a wheelchair smiled back at me.Great, I just yelled at someone in a wheelchair.“No, my bad,” I immediately apologized. “I should have been watching where I was going.”
“Maybe, but I was right in front of your door. You probably didn’t get a chance to see me.”
I looked at her and threw on my best actor smile. “No harm, no foul.” I met the teenager’s gaze and looked her over. She was beautiful. Flawless white skin, long raven-black hair, and a thin frame models would be jealous of.
“I’m Carissra,” she said, extending her hand.
I hesitated for a moment. People in New York had never completely reverted to handshakes after the pandemic. We were all a bit cautious. But I looked at the girl and knew she wasn’t trying to make me sick, so I extended my hand and said, “Erika.” She shook my hand with a firm grip. “It’s nice to meet you, Carissra. I haven’t seen you around here before.”
“No, you haven’t. We’re moving in next door.”
I’d heard through the grapevine that my neighbor had bought a house over in Jersey, but I hadn’t seen him move out. But then, I rarely saw him. He was in some late-night avant-garde circus troupe or something like that. I’d only run into him twice in the hall. For a neighbor, he’d been awesome. I never knew when he was there or away, which is precisely how I liked my neighbors. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti-social, but the last thing I want is to hear everyone around me.
After my breakup with Asher, I’d moved out of our apartment and ended up in an apartment in Queens where the walls were paper thin. I could hear every conversation, every argument, every time someone got intimate. After the third time I’d been woken up in the middle of the night because the people above me were fighting and the people next to me were yelling at the people above us to shut up, I knew I had to get out of that place. I’d had a couple more apartments before getting lucky in the lottery and landing in the Manhattan Plaza.
The Manhattan Plaza or the Miracle on 43rdStreet is a 46-story high-rise between 9thand 10thAvenues on 43rdStreet. The building had opened in 1976 as Section 8 Housing, or low-income housing. The city had turned it into an apartment complex for people who worked in the performing arts. Actors, opera singers, musicians, comedians, ushers, stage managers, and anyone else who kept the entertainment business running qualified to live in the apartments. About 75 percent of the three thousand-plus people who live here are in the performing arts. And your rent adjusted as your income did. If you were in a smash Broadway show and making a ton of money, you’d pay full price. If your situation turned on a dime and your show closed, your rent was lowered.
“Are your parents in the business?” I asked casually.
“Huh?”
The girl looked at me, confused. The other 25 percent of the Manhattan Plaza residents consisted of the elderly and people in the community. From her reaction, I guessed she was in the community group.
“Well, it’s been nice talking with you…” My mind drew a blank.
“Carissra.”
“Sorry about that. I have an audition this afternoon and my mind is racing.”
“Oh, you’re an actor?”
“You’ll find a lot of us around here. Most residents are in the entertainment industry in some form.”
