“I know I don’t have a lot of experience, but I really want this role.”
She came up close, clearly aiming to cut in the line. “Ni lai zheli duodiu le?”The girl said in Mandarin.
Refusing to communicate in Mandarin, Sonya said, “I’ve been here for about an hour. Why?”
The young woman looked at the few women in front of them and back to the end of the long line.“And you would say what...about a five-minute wait?”
“About that.”She looked closely at the young woman, and leaned in to quietly say, “Do we know each other?”
“Hey!”a tall redheaded called from the back of the line. “No cutting in. The end of the line is back here.”
“Yeah,” another joined in.
“I’m Yolanda Yee,” the young woman whispered to Sonya before addressing the redhead with, “My sister was holding my place for me.”
“I...”Sonya began.
“Please, help me out,” Yolanda whispered.
Sonya didn’t like it but glanced back at the line. “Yeah. My little sister asked me to hold a place for her.”
“Still,” the redhead shot back. “It ain’t my problem if she can’t get here on time.”
Yolanda ignored her and concentrated on Sonya. “Is this your first audition?”
“You could say that.”
Two more women were called in.
“Oh, it’s so close I can taste it,” Yolanda said.
Then one more, and another and Sonya was finally next in line. Yolanda might have cut in front of the women behind her, but she was not going to go in before Sonya.
The door opened, and the older woman with a clipboard, the same one who’d been coming to the door calling names for the past hour, poked her head in. Sonya held her breath.
“Miss Sonya Song.”
“That would be me,” Sonya said, marching to the door.
“Yeah, little sister!”the redhead called from the back. “You can cut in all you like. We’re called in by name.”
Sonya ignored the drama and entered the large room. Her shoulders back, her chin high, she walked with the elegance and grace of a woman who knew her worth. There was no arrogance or inflated ego, just the quiet confidence in her ability.
Three people, two men and a woman, sat facing a lone piano and an empty space just waiting for Sonya.
The woman looked at the photo and resumé in front of her. “Sonya, right.”
“That’s right.”
The young man seated beside her smiled, his eyes kind and his smile genuine. His sandy blond hair curled around his ears and framed his face in a pleasant manner.
“Nice to meet you,” Sonya said with a nod.
“And I’m Brian Benjamin,” he said, his voice as warm as his smile.
Her eyes narrowed as she remembered hearing the name somewhere. Then it came to her. “You’re the composer for The Muse.”
His smile widened. “Guilty, or at least partially. I’ve composed much of the music and a few of the songs to be sung by the lead character.”
