Chapter 6: A Second Chance

***Serene POV***

Curious, I walked towards the belittling voice and saw Damon and a producer. The producer was up in his face scolding Damon harshly like he was a child. Despite seeming so unbreakable before, right now Damon seemed unsure and intimidated.

After the humiliating experience with the interviewer upstairs, I was fed up with this place. How dare they speak to Damon that way? My blood boiled at the egos running through this place.

The producer continued his condescending rant, “You can’t expect me to have someone like you play my lead character!”

“The guy you chose isn’t the right fit,” Damon corrected him, his tone was amazingly calm. “

“You’re insane!” the producer dismissed him. “No one even knows who you are, except as the guy who betrayed the sexiest woman in the industry!”

From where I stood, spying around the corner, I could see that Damon was methodically restraining his anger, probably to avoid furthering his tarnished reputation. I was a nobody so I didn’t care what the consequences would be for interfering.

“I know who he is,” I shouted, bursting into the room. “And, he is one of my favorite actors. I don’t just believe the stuff I see on Twitter!”

“Get lost girl,” the producer said, trying to dismiss me with a wave of his hand. “I’m in a business meeting.”

“It doesn’t sound like a business meeting to me. You sound like a tyrannical teenager who got their vape taken away” I said firmly with my arms folded. Why was that the first thing that came to my mind?

“Maybe you’re just not important enough to be included in one!” the producer nearly shouted, throwing his sunglasses off from his eyes and glaring at me.

I felt a slight shiver run down my back as I braced for him to get in my face, but Damon intervened.

“Listen, man, I get your point,” Damon said standing between him and me, creating space to diffuse the situation. “Now, get going, you don’t want to be late for your date with Starbucks.”

The old-fashioned producer greased back his jet-black hair with his stubby fingers and scoffed, “Yeah whatever man.” He waddled over to where his sunglasses landed, dusted them off, and went on his way. He had the dumbest look I ever saw: loose khaki pants and a glorified cardigan with a paisley tie. Who still dresses like that?

“Thank you for sticking up for me,” Damon said gratefully, giving my shoulder a light touch. “It’s just part of the industry. Sometimes you need to let them knock you around a little, because their egos need it. They always think they are more important than the acting crew, but really they are just envious of us because they’re too ugly to be on camera.”

I giggled at his explanation, and he grinned.

“I’m glad I made you laugh,” he told me, smiling softly. I finished giggling and looked at him for a long moment. I hope I didn’t make him uncomfortable, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from swooning over his sky-blue colored eyes.

“I just had a bad experience of my own with the executive lady upstairs,” I confessed candidly.

“Oh, you met the witch in the tower, huh?” he asked me humorously. “She is infamous here as a manipulator. She has a slew of lackluster writers under her spell with no talent, so she’s forced to contract freelance writers, pay for their story, and never gives them credit. These talented writers never get any acclaim or future writing gigs. Rather, her own parasitic crew gets the notoriety.”

“Wow, so I’d basically lose all the rights to my story,” I gasped, absentmindedly clutching my script to my chest.

"Yeah, you didn’t sign anything, did you?” he asked me, concerned.

“No, no!” I said with a sigh. “I stormed out of her office extremely insulted.”

“You had every right to be offended,” he reassured me. “But, do you still want to have your script used?”

I nodded quickly, “It’s all I ever wanted!” I confessed whole-heartedly. “But, I’m having trouble finding a good place to publish it. I don’t have much experience with this.”

“I don’t want you to be taken advantage of,” he admitted to me with concern in his eyes. “I think your best bet is to speak with Ann over at the Studio 8 TV station. She’s been in the industry for years and is always seeking out fresh new talent for her programs. If your story is good enough, she’ll use it and give you credit.”

I felt my heart leap in my chest. An opportunity was already presenting itself. I was so relieved II didn’t allow myself to feel pressured into signing that contract with the witch in the tower.

“Oh my gosh,” I gasped. “Do you think she will like my story?”

He chuckled slightly and said, “I haven’t read your manuscript, but I can say if they brought you in for a meeting, it has to be good. But, you should find someone who values your talent more than they do here.”

“Then why do you stay here?” I pried curiously, unable to stop myself before the words poured out. “I think you’re too talented for a grimy place like this.”

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “I am doing the best I can for now, rediscovering my confidence. I just want to put the past behind me and rebuild my career stronger than it was before away from Aileen and all the toxic people in my life.”

I watched him for a moment and was mesmerized by the softness in his blue eyes, the color of clear waters off the coast of the Pacific Ocean. They were tender, yet determined. He grinned in my direction and I returned the gesture exclaiming, “I am proud of you then!”

After a long, intimate pause, he glanced at his phone and said, “You should hurry up! Ann always goes to the Dr. Feeling Bar at this hour. You should find her there. Tell her about your experience here and I’m sure she’ll listen to your proposal. She hates these frauds.”

I jumped up and grabbed my portfolio with my screenplay safely in it. Even though I always emailed my writing to companies, I felt more comfortable carrying the original copy. It felt like someone couldn’t steal it if I didn’t let go.”

“Thank you so much,” I said to him as I turned to leave. “I’m going to give it my best shot!”

He gave me a thumbs up and a smile, “You’ll do great!”

I smiled and ran from the room and out of the building. Due to the time constraint, I couldn’t call a cab, instead opting to dash to the bar as it was only a few blocks away. A few blocks in a taxi could take three hours at rush hour in Los Angeles.

.

It was 5:30 pm and I hoped I didn’t miss her.

I showed my ID to the bouncer, and after a quick exchange, he allowed me to enter. Wait, bars had bouncers now??? It was more of a nightclub than it was a conventional booze parlor. It was pitch dark inside except for the various neon lights flashing. A cacophony of EDM music blasted destroying my eardrums, while the odor of sweat annihilated my nostrils.

Luckily, at this early hour, there was only one person on the dance floor. The woman had silky, straight black hair that reached her waistline, and a skin-tight leather microskirt that showcased her toned legs. I wondered if that was Ann.

I awkwardly sat down at the bar and waited, hoping the woman would work her over here for a drink. I wasn’t ready to get in a dance-off wearing heels. I saw a drunk man approaching the woman on the dance floor. Trying to escape his advances, she made her way to the bar and ordered a Mohito.

“Let me get that for you, doll,” the sleazy man said to the woman. She looked at him with disgust, slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter, and took a disgruntled sip.

“Go away, Dan,” she ordered angrily, took another sip of the Mojito, slammed the glass back on the counter and tried making her way back to the dance floor..

“C’mon Ann, just give me a chance!” the disgusting man moaned. As much as I hated perverts, at least he told me that this was in fact Ann! I could hardly contain the excitement, nearly jumping off the barstool, but I didn’t want to run over to her like a child.

I watched as Ann shoved Dan away and he moped like his failure to seduce Ann was a daily occurrence. I watched him carefully. He pulled a vial of pills from his coat, looked around suspiciously, and then dumped several into Ann’s drink on the counter. I stifled a gasp as I watched.

I waited for the man to move away so I could dump out her glass and explain what happened.

But, he stood firm.

After a long solo dancing session, Ann came back for her Mojito. She reached for her glass.

“Ann!! Don’t drink it!”