Page 17 of Marisol Acts the Part
I don’t let myself linger on that thought for long.
Comparison is the thief of joy, or whatever that cliché says.
Especially in a field like ours. If I compared myself to every single “girl next door” type, I’d drive myself nuts.
I’ve seen plenty of talented performers lose their confidence by letting the fear that there’s someone else who can do the role better manifest itself into reality.
Jamila is clearly as talented as she is stunning, and while that’s amazing for her, it shouldn’t mean anything to me.
Eyes on your own script.
I am puzzled by the lack of scenes with Dawn, though.
She’s by far the most experienced of the teen cast, but she hardly has any presence in the pilot episode.
From what I can tell, her character is Jamila’s more outgoing best friend, but there’s not much depth outside of her pressuring Jamila to sneak out to a party.
I’m sure her character will have more to do in later episodes, though.
Dawn Greene isn’t meant for background parts.
With a résumé like hers, I’m honestly surprised she’s not playing Jamila’s role, or at the very least, mine.
Someone starts up a polite round of applause as we finish the last line of the episode, ending on a cliffhanger where Miles’s character is alone near some train tracks in the middle of the night after an argument with his grieving mother.
Miles gives the most vigorous applause, going so far as to give Rune a standing ovation. We all follow suit out of politeness.
Rune preens under the attention, giving a modest bow before waving off the applause. “I’ll see you all bright and early tomorrow, all right?”
He’s met with a chorus of “all rights,” “yeahs,” and “cheerses.” For a moment, I even forget about my less-than-stellar start to the day, letting myself get swept up in the excitement of the room.
After one last round of applause, the buzz and bustle from earlier returns.
The production crew darts across the room, collecting our scripts to shred them in the back office (again, to prevent spoilers), while several producers race to Rune’s side, barraging him with questions and logistics for tomorrow’s first day of shooting.
The rest of the cast files out in the same cliques they arrived with, some of them chatting about the show or plans for the night while others are glued to their phones and leave quickly.
Dawn doesn’t even bother saying goodbye before bolting out of the room.
Miles’s thick brows shoot up as he scans the several notifications on his phone.
“I’ve gotta run, but it was nice meeting you,” he says to Jamila, giving her a friendly smile before turning toward me, said smile morphing into something unreadable. Somewhere between a grin and a frown.
“It’s great to see you, Mari.” His voice is soft, gentle, one might say. I can’t tell if he means it or if he’s trying to convince himself that he does, but it doesn’t change the way my heart flutters when our eyes meet. Whether that’s with longing, pride, or heartburn, I don’t know.
“It’s great to see you too,” I reply, knocking my fist against his shoulder. “Castmate.”
He lets out a short chuckle, eyes lingering on my necklace for what feels like a beat too long before he finally walks away, my skin prickling from this new, more welcome form of attention.
Glancing around, I realize Jamila and I are the only members of the cast left in the room. She packs her things into a New Yorker tote bag and slides on a pair of oversized sunglasses that, paired with her subtle red lip, perfectly capture the Old Hollywood glamour vibe.
“It’s nice to see you again,” she says, and I have to double-check over my shoulder that she’s actually talking to me.
“Oh. You too!” I respond a bit too loudly—even for me. So much for not letting on about how much she intimidates me. “Cupcake?” I ask to cover up my nerves, though considering my track record with these, this probably isn’t my best bet.
Jamila seems startled by the offer. Even through her dark tinted glasses I can see the way her eyes widen as she takes in the mostly untouched spread in the box.
“That’s so sweet of you,” she says, and maybe it’s because she’s the first person who hasn’t looked confused by my presence, but it’s the nicest thing I’ve heard this entire week.
She hums to herself as she runs her hand along the top of the box, pondering which one to take.
It gives me time to admire her elegant slender fingers and the thin gold rings adorning them.
A rose gold band with her initials in cursive on her pointer, and a laurel wreath on her ring finger, perfect complements to the glossy nude polish on her nails.
“My older sister’s obsessed with Magnolia,” she says after selecting a vanilla cupcake with yellow buttercream frosting. The smell is so tempting I wind up grabbing one for myself too. “If we dare get her a regular cake instead of a dozen of these for her birthday, all hell breaks loose.”
I watch in confusion and horror as she carefully pulls off the wrapping, breaks off the bottom of the cupcake, and places it on top of the frosting until she’s created a mini cake-and-frosting sandwich without getting a single crumb on her clothes.
“And she never told you how to properly eat a cupcake?” I question without thinking. The uncanniness of it was too overwhelming for me to remember that criticizing someone during your first conversation doesn’t set you up for a long and meaningful friendship.
Jamila instantly rolls her eyes, but thankfully she doesn’t seem upset. “This is the superior way to eat a cupcake. Equal distribution of cake. Easy to bite into. And you don’t wind up with a glob of frosting on your nose.”
“But it’s deeply unsettling,” I add before taking a normal bite of my cupcake to prove my point.
Instead of replying, she bites back a laugh as her shoulders tremble slightly. Before I can ask her what’s so funny, she reaches into her tote bag and hands me her phone, opened up to the camera in selfie view. “Point proven.”
Sure enough, there’s an enormous dollop of frosting on the tip of my nose.
“You got me there,” I grumble, swiping the frosting only for it to smear down the bridge of my nose and somehow get tangled in my hair.
I can’t win today, can I?
While I groan and struggle to wipe the yellow smudge off my face, she leans forward and pinches the bit that’s stuck to the end of my hair.
My body stiffens as her fingers gently brush against the bare skin of my shoulder, and I pray to every deity I know that she doesn’t see the goose bumps that blossom beneath her touch.
“Do you want the rest of these?” I ask, eager to get attention off me. I push the box toward her. “So your sister can show you the error of your ways.”
Jamila snorts, an unusually lovely sound. “You sure?” she asks with a raised brow. “Because it looks like you could still use some practice eating these correctly.” She swipes her thumb against her nose and does me the favor of holding back her laugh again.
I swallow another groan, holding up my phone and wiping furiously until my reflection is finally free of any rogue frosting.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I insist once I’ve cleaned myself off and tucked my phone away.
“You’d be doing me a favor,” I insist, eyeing the box warily.
“I can’t be trusted alone in an apartment with two dozen cupcakes. ”
Jamila nods, tapping her finger against the strap of her tote bag. “If my sister found out someone offered me a box of Magnolia cupcakes and I turned it down, she’d kill me.”
“Well, then consider this a humanitarian effort,” I argue, closing the box and pressing it directly into her hands. “I’m saving your life.”
This time, Jamila doesn’t hold back her laugh. “Well, when you put it that way.”
Over her shoulder, a PA orders everyone out of the room so they can reset for shooting tomorrow. I quickly grab my own bag and remaining box of cupcakes seconds before another PA swoops by and hoists the table we were sitting at into the air, moving it to the opposite end of the room.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jamila calls out in the shuffle of the crew and lingering cast members.
“See you tomorrow,” I echo, too frazzled by trying to balance my cardigan, bag, and box in one hand to find her in the crowd.
Once I’ve collected myself and my stuff, I head outside to meet my driver and head back to Dad’s apartment.
As we cross the Brooklyn Bridge, I let myself process this mad dash of a day.
It’s easy to feel disappointed—over my not-so-great first impression, Rune’s passive-aggressive comment about my wardrobe, and the overall lack of openness from the cast. Especially Dawn.
But there were bright spots too. Nailing my performance, even though it was only a read-through.
The face Miles made when he saw me. Jamila’s smile, and the jolt of her fingers brushing against my skin.
Actually…maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.