Note from the Author:

All of the characters in this story are mine and mine alone; most ideas are mine as well.  Any events or persons similar to real events or persons are coincidental and unintentional.  Also, this story is a concept story, based on any reviews I get after the first chapter, I will either continue or abandon it. ^.^ Enjoy!

Chapter One

            The banging on the dusty glass of the mobile home’s windowpane rattled the sleeping teenage girl awake after a night of restless sleep.  She’d finally managed to get a decent hour of rest when this noise from Hell disrupted it, and she sat up and expressed it the best way she knew how. 

            “Who the hell is banging on the damned window? Can’t a person get some sleep around here without some moron trying to break into her house?” Her voice screamed in agitation as she pulled the pillow over her face and fell back into the box spring bed with a groan.

            The banging on the window persisted and finally she sat up again, her dark brown hair hanging over her forehead messily.  Turning her head, her almond eyes focused on the hand waving at her, then at the pair of near identical eyes staring excitedly back.  The girl let out another groan when she recognized the person beckoning to her so wildly: her mother.

            “Chloe, get out of bed, come on sleepy head!” her mother screeched in the most annoying way possible then resumed the feverish thumping on the glass.

            Chloe sighed, the air from her lips shifting the hair from her face momentarily, before forcing her legs to move from the bed to the floor.  What on earth had possessed her mother to shake her from precious, sweet sleep like a bat out of Hell? The woman acted like they were late for the most important appointment of their lives. 

            Suddenly the girl’s light brown eyes went wide and she scrambled to the wall calendar hanging on the fake wood paneling inside the trailer home.  What day was it?

            “Please don’t be the eighteenth, please don’t be the eighteenth!” she prayed to herself and when her eyes landed on the date she let out an exasperated moan.  Where was the clock? “Please don’t be ten, please don’t be ten…” she mumbled on and saw that it was not ten o’clock, but pretty damn close: 9:47 AM.  “Oh shit!”

            Chloe was awake now, hopping into a pair of faded jeans, pulling on a slightly wrinkled baseball tee, all the while ignoring the frantic cries from her mother to hurry her ass up.  Chloe continued cursing to herself, kicking herself in the ass mentally for sleeping in. She’d just been so tired the night before that she was too tired to even fall asleep, and then when she actually had been able to, it was too late. 

            Slipping her feet into the worn sneakers beside her small night table, she half ran, half walked to the door, then burst outside.  Chloe’s mom moved to her quickly, tugging on her arm, shaking her head as they went to the beat up rustic colored Chevy sputtering in a feeble attempt to keep running. 

            “How could you have slept in like that Chloe? Did you forget the auditions were today? You’re going to be late, you know that right? You’d better hope they still let you in!” her mother prattled on with negativity as Chloe simply sat in the passenger’s seat with her eyes straight ahead. 

            As the car chugged along the road to the interstate, Chloe ran the lines over and over in her head as many times as she could bear.  All while she was in high school, she’d been a part of the drama club and the choir, taking part in school plays and musicals.  Acting and performing became her life, but her mother couldn’t afford to send her to a good drama school, or even to a good college, and personally, Chloe didn’t think it’d be worth the effort.  However, when an amateur casting call was made two weeks ago from downtown Chicago, she’d jumped at the chance.  She’d gotten a script from the agents that had been there and made sure to remember to write down the date of the audition for the part she wanted.  Obviously she’d forgotten, and she only prayed that they wouldn’t be too late.

            When her mother’s voice finally got to her, Chloe snapped, turning her head sharply to her. “Mom, chill out would you? If I’m late, then I’m late! I doubt I’ll be the only one a few minutes late alright? Relax…”

            Her mom pursed her lips, keeping her eyes over the outdated cat-eye sunglasses, silent for a moment.  Chloe took this moment to study her mother, who in many ways resembled herself.  They both had the same dark hair, the same eyes, the same lips and nose, it was almost as though they were twins.  However, age had caught up to her mom, and faint streaks of gray could be located somewhere underneath the cheap hair dye, and beneath the liquid cover-up and cherry lipstick there were age wrinkles.  The woman wasn’t that old, only thirty-seven, she’d been quite young when she had Chloe nineteen years ago, but her years of partying and alcoholism aged her rapidly.  It was sort of sad when Chloe thought about it, but it wouldn’t do much to think about it now.

            “I suppose you’re right Chloe,” her mom finally said in a much calmer tone and forced a smile, giving a wary glance her daughter’s way. “We’re almost there now, five minutes at the most, and you’ll only be about ten minutes late.  You do remember your lines don’t you, Hon?”

            The brunette nodded and rolled her eyes, hiding a smile “Yes mom, I remember them fine, don’t worry.  I don’t think I could forget them even if I wanted to.”

            “Good, good girl,” came the reply, then the annoyed comment, “put on some cover-up girl, those circles under your eyes are awful!”

*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *          

            Ten minutes later, not five, the Chevy pulled up in a parking lot in Chicago, coughing its protest to the hurried trip down the interstate.  Chloe scrambled out of the car, waving to her mom as she backed away and called out to her.

            “I’ll call you when its over, leave your phone on!” the thought of how ironic it was that they couldn’t afford cable but could afford a cell phone ran quickly through her mind as she caught the last few words from her mother.

            “Break a leg dear!”

            Chloe ran to the building, running her fingers through her wind blown brown hair, and pushed the heavy door open to find a disturbing sight.  There was a line of girls about half a mile long waiting to audition.  Half a mile was probably an exaggeration, but the line was pretty long, and she began to feel discouraged.  It seemed that she was indeed the last person to arrive.  

There was a table near the door with two middle-aged men sitting, eyeing her patiently, and apparently waiting for her to approach them.  One of them cleared his throat as a gesture to get her attention, which worked, and she walked over with her hands clasped in front of her.

“Is this where the audition is?” she asked nervously, hating how her voice quivered. One of her hands moved to run through her hair again, but stopped as she received a disproving glance from the right hand man.

“Obviously this is the place, or have you not noticed the line of girls standing around you?” his voice was thin and full of scrutiny.  He pushed a clipboard to her, “Sign that…you’ll be the last one to audition today, if we get to you.”

Chloe felt like shrinking down to about two inches tall and crawling under the table, but she took a deep breath and signed her name on the last slot under the last person’s signature.  With a half smile, she moved to the line and was immediately pulled aside by a strong hand.

“Who are you here for?” A gruff sounding voice queried.  It seemed as though it should belong to a rather large man, and when it came to looking at him, Chloe discovered that it did belong to a rather muscular black man.  He tilted his head and asked her again, his eyes seemed to penetrate into hers.  “Who are you here for?”

“I, I don’t understand, I’m here to audition…”

“…I know that, so is every other girl here!” He cut her off and shook his head.  “There’s more than one line, girly, look around you, pay attention. Which part are you here to read for?”

“Oh! Sorry.” ‘Idiot, moron, dumbass!’ All these words shuffled through her mind as she answered. “I’m here to read for Dia.”

With a grunt the man pushed her off in the right direction and turned away to go about his work of making sure the girls didn’t get too unruly and break out into masses of cat fights.

Chloe eyed the other girls with a bit of worry written in her expression.  What if they never did get to her?  What if she had come here for nothing, and had gotten her hopes up for nothing?  Would it have been worth coming out and fussing over her late and forced awakening if she never even got a chance to read for the part? Her stomach churned with the thoughts, and she prayed that she at least got thirty seconds with the casting crew so she might go down with some dignity.  She didn’t even want to see her mother if she didn’t get those thirty seconds.

With a shiver, she crossed her arms and ran through the lines again, staring blankly towards the back of the girl’s head in front of her.  She would keep her chin up, keep her cool, and most importantly, she’d read for this part.  Chloe wouldn’t go out without a fight.