Page 106 of The Casting Couch

“You got a face like a soap star and a rap sheet like a former governor,” she said in a voice like gravel poured into a martini glass.“Let’s get you seated, sweetheart.”

I blinked.“Yes, ma’am.”

She shoved a small script into my hand.It was printed in Comic Sans on pink paper.

“Don’t worry,” she said.“We got cue cards too, in case you get flustered.But you strike me as someone who thrives under pressure.”

Brian clapped his hands.“Now, just be yourself, act natural, and let it come from the heart.Have you ever been in front of a camera before?”

My mouth opened on instinct.

Yeah, actually.I was recently the emotional centerpiece in a multi-cam gay bukkake scene that ended with a cum shot to the soul.It was deeply moving.

“…Not really,” I said instead.“But I’m a quick learner.”

“Great!”Brian beamed, as if I’d just announced I was giving up meth for Lent.“Now let’s go over the script.”

I glanced down.My eyes widened.

Oh no.

Hi!I’m Bradley Mitchell.I made some bad choices.But bad choices don’t have to ruin your life.Crime may seem cool… but there’s nothing cool about stealing someone’s iPad or missing your sister’s wedding because you’re in juvie.

Oh, for the love of…

You might think, “Hey, selling drugs is easy money!”But lemme tell you something, kiddo.You know what else is easy?Crying yourself to sleep in a six-by-eight cell.

I covered my mouth and coughed.Definitely not laughing.Not even a little.

Brian adjusted the ring light.“We’re rolling in three… two…”

I did the best I could.

Take one.

I blinked too fast, said “hi” like I was on ketamine, and flubbed “sister’s wedding” into “sinister wedding.”

Take two.

I got halfway through “easy money” before I started picturing Nico in his comedy club bit doing this voice and lost it entirely.

Take three.

I powered through it like a goddamn pro, only to break on the last line:

“So if you’re thinking about breaking the law, try breaking into a good book instead!”

I snorted.Audibly.Ruth made a tutting sound and Brian sighed so hard I thought he might pass out.

“I swear I’m taking this seriously,” I said, wiping my eyes.“I really am.This script is peak Saturday morning cartoon energy.”

“We wrote it to be accessible,” Brian said, clearly offended.

Ruth smacked him lightly with the cue cards.“It’s fine.The kid’s got a twinkle.Let him sparkle a little.”

Take four was the winner.I slowed down, channeled my inner made-for-TV sad boy, and stared straight into the camera like I was asking the nation to remember 9/11.

When Brian finally called out cut, I felt like I’d just won an Emmy.

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