Faker

Chapter 1

David

"That's a wrap!" The director shouts. 

I have been here, sitting for more than three hours, waiting for my paycheck. It doesn't help that the lady who signs the cash-in note is nowhere to be found. This is the thing about playing extra's in dramas, you get this little role and once done, you're out! 

I seriously need to get a regular job, with all the bills that's been piling up at home. Perfect! I frown as I remember my dues. Overdue dues. 

I can't be idling like this for the whole day. I better just leave and tell Bob, my agent, that I haven't gotten my pay for this stint. 

"David!" 

I turn around just in time to see Peaches running down from the hallway. "Hey, Peaches. Where have you been? I've been waiting here for hours."

"I know, sorry," she says while she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. "These bullies are giving me the run-around. I just need one signature for that permit that they're requesting, and I can't seem to get it from any of them!"

"Chill, your fringe is out of place," I joke. "We don't want that, do we?"

Peaches laugh. "Of course not! So, where is that cash-in note?"

I hand her the piece of paper, which will save me for the next week from starvation and living in the street. I follow her into the office, and as she is counting the money, I idly look at the old movies produced by the company.

I sigh. "I just need one chance, Peach, but lady luck is not on my side. You of all people should know that every time I get these small roles, I work really, really hard, but I guess this is not for me." 

I look at her and smile. She and I have been friends for more than five years. When I moved to L.A. and was very determined to be an actor, I bumped into Bob and exchanged a few words, he then took me in saying for the reason, 'You have the face of a star!'

He hooked up me with a few producers and directors who hired me to do small jobs every now and then. If they needed an additional guy to walk on the pedestrian lane, that would be me. I had been cast numerous times by the company Peaches work for, and that was how we became friends.

"You know what David, I told you time and time again that Hollywood is not for everyone. I know Bob said that you'd make it, and I'm not saying that you won't, but you have to make a living," Peaches lectures me. 

"It's not like you have thousands of dollars in your account that will allow you to wait for that 'big break.' Take it to from me, I was once like you, but look at where I am now," she adds.

I glance at Peaches, who is sitting there with her face completely covered by this thick mixture of powder, make-up, and sweat. She did tell me, in one of our conversations, that she wanted to be an actress when she was younger. 

Born and raised in Alabama, the country bumpkin in her wanted something more, so she tried her luck but alas! She just grew old, waiting. 

"Yeah. Believe me, I have been thinking about it a lot in the past days. I've been on a banana and apple diet for too long that I forgot what meat actually tastes like."

She snorts as she hands me the cash. "All the more reason to think about what you need to do. You already know what you can do, but apparently, what you can do can't help you right now."

I take the money and stuff it in my pocket. "Thanks, Peach, I gotta head home to my mansion and make sure not a single gold was stolen. Take care."

Peaches laugh, cackling is more like it since she just had another round of Botox injected in her puffy face, and she can barely move a muscle.

I'm about to open the door when she says, "I heard they're brewing up something new. Nothing has been decided, but they were talking about it earlier when I was up there. I have no details of the story, but all I know is that it's a soap and a prime time for that matter. You might want Bob to poke around and see what he can find."

A wide smile spreads across my face as I almost carry Peaches. "Thank you!"

I walk out of her office with positive stride. One last time I thought. One last fuckin' time.

As I reach the sidewalk, I fish for my phone to call Bob, give him what small details I got from Peaches. He promises to ring me back as soon as he has answers. He and I know that once I truly starve or go homeless, he will definitely find me in his kitchen, raiding his fridge.

Bob calls as soon as I step on my floor.

"Tough luck kid, they are in the middle of creating a new soap, the audition is on-going," he tells me.

"Is there anything for me? At all?" I ask.

I can feel his disappointment as well as it's taking him almost thirty seconds to answer, "Maybe not another bartender or waiter or bell boy. I'm sorry, David."

"Is that all they have? Maybe there is more!" I'm going to admit defeat at this point. 

This can't be all I can be.

"The other role they've mentioned that is for the audition is for a married couple. I didn't even bother asking for the details since you're not married."

"Can't they just cast two random strangers to play as a couple?"

"I don't think so. They're probably looking at the chemistry and spontaneity, you know, those only married couples would have," Bob explains to me.

I pace back and forth outside my apartment, while Bob's on the other line. I need to think. Think fast.

"Look, David, I'll look something for us. We'll get something," Bob says, and I hang up.

Fuck! I curse internally. 

I insert my keys in my knob only to find it open. I push it to see my best friend cooking and my godson on the dining table, coloring.

"Hey, Dave! I hope you don't mind me using your oven." She smiles and waves the spatula at me, gesturing me to sit with them. 

I immediately call Bob.

"Get me that audition, Bob, and I'll get myself a wife."