Page 56 of To the Moon and Back

Carly had been off her game. The performance she was capable ofdelivering had slipped through her fingers earlier that night, and she hatedherself for it. As she lay in bed at her theater-supplied apartment, sleepmocked her. Instead, her brain took over, reliving each and every moment of hersecond live performance in gory and embarrassing detail. She’d flubbed lines,bumped into furniture, and was late for an exit because, like tonight, shecouldn’t stop thinking. She knew exactly what had gone wrong. The reviews hadgotten into her head. She heard the wordserviceablebefore each and every scene, and then, because she was truly masochistic, beganto insert words of her own. Hack. Fraud. Nothing but a pretty face. All of thembelievable. None of them helpful.

“Coming over?” Lauren had asked after the show. She rested hercheek against the frame of the door. Her eyes were bright. Too bright for theend of a long day, but that was Lauren, always put together, and ready to takeon the world. She envied her.

“I think I’m going to take a rain check and get some of that sleepwe so desperately have been skipping over.”

Lauren laughed quietly. “Oh yes, that old concept. I keepforgetting—sleep and I used to be buddies.”

“But don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily. Don’t enterinto a torrid affair with rest. I’d be so jealous.”

Lauren came farther into the dressing room and took Carly’s facein her hands. “Never.” She kissed her sweetly. “Good night, Carly. I’ll see youtomorrow when we get to do this all over again.”

“Remarkable how that happens.”

Lauren laughed. “Right?”

It turned out that rest had no interest in an affair with Carly.In fact, rest was an elusive bitch. Sigh. Lauren would have been the perfectdistraction from Carly’s scattered thoughts. She flipped herself over for theninth, maybe tenth, time. She’d meant every word she’d said to Lauren the daybefore. She had been thrilled for Lauren’s positive reviews. But when theexaggerated nighttime doubt crept in from behind the walls, Carly began toquestion her own self-worth in a way she never had before. Her career was inshambles, and as excited as she’d been forStarryNightsto help pull her from the trenches, it was looking less andless like that might happen. Fear arrived by her bedside next, and she huggedher fists against her heart as it raced out of control. What would she do withherself if her career ran out of gas entirely? Guest spots on game shows? Sure,until those invitations washed up, too. Her line of thinking felt irrationaland premature, yet she struggled for air all the same. Gasping, she sat up andturned on the small lamp next to her bed, hoping to jar herself out of herdownward spiral. She listened to the sound of her own ragged breaths. Finally,she reached for the glass of water next to her bed just as her phone rang. Itwas three a.m. Who in the world would be calling?

She checked the readout on her phone and quickly took the call.“Hey,” Lauren said when she answered. “I’m sorry to call so late.”

Carly closed her eyes at the sound of Lauren’s voice. “It’s okay.”She swallowed. It was all she could manage.

“I woke up and, I don’t know, felt like I needed to call. I wasworried about you for some weird reason. Is that crazy?”

Carly looked up at the ceiling, her eyes filling. “No. It’sactually not weird at all. I should have come over, I think. Rough night.”Maybe Lauren had detected something earlier. Maybe she had some sort of sixthsense that pulled her from sleep. Maybe they were developing an intenseconnection. Whatever it was, Carly was grateful for the rescue call.

“How about Rocky and I drop by?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Carly said, but everything in herreached for that idea.

“I think we want to, though. We just took a vote. We’re comingover.”

Carly paused, releasing the remaining fist from its place againsther chest. “Okay. I’ll leave the door unlocked.” She swallowed in enormousrelief.

Fifteen minutes later, she heard the door click open and closed,followed by the sound of the lock. “Hey, you,” Lauren said, dropping a backpackat the bedroom door. She slid into bed behind Carly, wearing yoga pants and aT-shirt, having never looked more snuggly.

“Hi, guys,” Carly said to Lauren and an exuberant Rocky, whopromptly licked her face six times and then curled into a ball at the foot ofher bed. With Lauren’s arms around her waist from behind, she felt everythingin her relax. For tonight, she felt safe and solid. Thewhat-ifgame stillplayed in the back of her mind, but she refused to give it her attention.Lauren had her for now, and that was everything.

“Shall we sleep?” Lauren asked.

“Yes, please,” Carly said. She switched off the light and leteverything float far, far away.

* * *

“Ms. Prescott, this is Elissa Newman from Telsey Casting callingagain about setting up a meeting regarding a project you might be right for.Call me at your earliest convenience. Do you have representation I could get intouch with?”

As she sat at her dressing table before Saturday’s matinee, Laurenshook her head in response to the voicemail. No. She didn’t have representation.In fact, she’d never had an agent.

“You good, Lala?” Trip asked, popping his head into her dressingroom. “All set for a wild two-show day?”

“I’m all good, Trippy. You’re doing a bang-up job.”

“You say that to all the first-time PSMs,” he said and tossed hishair dramatically in departure.

Lauren scrolled to the next voicemail and hit play. “Hiya, Lauren.Dave Pell fromPlaybill Online.Would love to ask you a few questions about your Cinderella story working onStarry Nights. I thinkour readers would love to hear about it. Give me a ring.”

She jotted down Dave’s number for later, still not believing thatPlaybillwas callingher.

Next message. “Good afternoon, Ms. Prescott. Jim Lawson fromUnited Talent Agency calling to chat. Hoping to hear from you. I think we coulddo some great things if we worked together.” Well, there was that possiblerepresentation Elissa Newman was asking about. UTA was a top agency. She tookhis number down, too.

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