2012-12-25

The light rain started to slow as it fell, slowly transitioning over to snow as the temperature dropped with the setting sun. Nathalie could feel her ambitions becoming equally cold. She was on her way home after yet another failed audition.

            How many had it been now?

            Twenty-five?

            Thirty-five?

            It could be over fifty at this point—she had stopped keeping track far too long ago. How many more was she supposed to endure?

            Nathalie had realized long ago that rejections do happen, but in her case, it was to an extreme. She had gotten nothing, not even offered lesser parts. She couldn’t even remember the last time when she had even gotten a callback. Going back to school and getting her teaching certificate was seeming more like the plan as opposed to the alternative.

            Nathalie’s mind was lost in her own thoughts, so she failed to notice the uplifted sidewalk. Too late she caught herself, already plunging face first towards a nearby street lamp. At the last second, she managed to catch herself, her nose stopped inches from the pole. As she pushed away from the pole, she noticed a flyer plastered to it.

            It was a number offering psychic readings, guaranteed to be accurate.

            Nathalie laughed at the thought of it, then paused.

            “Why not?” she said to herself as she pulled out her phone.

            She quickly dialed, then placed the phone to her ear and waited.

            Moments later, an elevator rendition of some traditional gypsy-esque melody came through the phone. As Nathalie started to chuckle, a pre-recorded voice message quickly silenced her.

            “Greetings, oh wise customer,” came an elderly voice not recognizable as either male or female. The kitsch of it all was almost too much.

            “We already know of your fate, oh despondent traveler who seeks such fortunes,” the voice continued. “Know that your future, your desired destiny, is already watching you. Proceed with thy emotions and instincts, and it WILL find you.”

            There was a loud shaking of a tambourine, and then Nathalie was disconnected.

            “That’s it?” she said to herself.

            “What a joke,” she continued on, tears starting to form in her eyes. “I just paid two dollars for that trite crap, and I get hung up on?” Nathalie was growing visibly frustrated and angry.

            “WHYYYYY!?!?” she suddenly screamed at the sky. She then fell to her knees, half collapsed in exhaustion. As she was sobbing, face in her hands, she suddenly heard an odd sound.

            She heard clapping.

            “That was awesome! That’s what I’m talking about,” came a mans voice.

            Nathalie looked up, away from the road. She had failed to notice that she had been in front of a café this entire time. Apparently, one of the patrons had noticed her.             The man in the trench coat, who had been clapping, was now walking up to her, right hand extended.

            “Young lady, that was a brilliant, raw piece of performance there,” the man said.

            “Thank . . . you,” she half stuttered out. She grabbed his hand as he helped her up.

            “No, thank you,” he said as he reached into his coat. He pulled out a business card and handed it to her.

            “The name’s Miles Silverman. I’m a casting director. You wouldn’t happen to be an actress, would you?”

            “Well, I’ve tried—” she started to say, but was cutoff.

            “I knew it!” he exclaimed. “Listen, call that number, make an appointment with my assistant. Tell her I said you’re to try out for the lead in the cable series we were talking about over pizza at the café the other day—she’ll know what I mean. Anyhow, just tell her Miles said ‘she’s a go’, she’ll know you talked to me.”

            Nathalie simply stood there stunned, amazed that her destiny had indeed found her.