That afternoon I was speeding down Sepulveda, heading to my meeting. Holly had told me I would probably sing again, so I kept the top up and was doing my vocal exercises in the car.
I was excited for this meeting. When I had originally been given the details of this new show, it intrigued me. It was a brand new musical, still in the workshop stages. They were continually rewriting the music and the lyrics, and as an actor, the chance to be the first to inhabit a role was intoxicating.
The female lead was in her thirties and an aging beauty queen. The entire show was based around her coming to terms with her age, no longer being the ingénue, and dealing with the aftereffects of a messy divorce. It was about a second life, redefining yourself all over again. It was sweet and funny, and the music I'd already heard was amazing.
This show was me. I was all over it. Now I just had to sell the director on it. I was new to show business as far as they knew me. All I really had going for me was Holly, and she had to sell like hell to even get me the initial audition. But once I was in the door, it had been all me. This was my first real test, my first real reentry into the industry, and I was taking full advantage.
I was ready. I was excited. And if I booked this job, I would be ecstatic.
***
When I arrived, I met with two of the New York producers, the director, and I was supposed to meet the writer, but he had just stepped out. As I chatted with them, the director asked how long I had known Holly.
"Oh gosh, we've known each other since college! We were roommates, and then we both moved out to L.A. within a few months of each other. She's great."
"Yes, I've worked with her on several castings over the years. Holly's fantastic." He smiled and I smiled back, proud of my friend who was obviously so well respected within the industry.
"Ah, here's our writer! Michael, we'd like you to meet—"
"Grace? Grace Sheridan?"
The voice was familiar. I turned around, an expectant smile on my face. He seemed to already know me. Then I saw him. Of course he knew me.
He had broken my heart thirteen years ago.
Dammit, Holly…
***
"Seriously, Holls, what the fuck?! How could you send me in there blind like that?" I yelled, swerving in and out of traffic like a crazy person. People were honking at me and I flicked off at least three of them at once.
"Grace, calm down. I had no idea it was the same Michael O'Connell. I mean, what are the odds?"
"What are the odds, indeed," I grumbled, as I cut someone else off. "Shut up!" I yelled as the man flashed his lights at me, screaming obscenities.
"Wow, settle. Hang up the phone and come to the office. Tell me here, where you can't hurt anyone."
"Don't bet on it," I warned, yanking my Bluetooth out and stepping on the gas, almost causing another accident.
***
When I was in college, I had a huge crush on one of my best friends. He was in drama school with Holly and me. We were all great friends, but Michael O'Connell was my favorite.
He was incredibly talented. His talent was what drew me to him first. He was still the funniest guy I had ever met; quick witted, dry and an amazing sense of timing. Like a lot of comedic actors, he also had a sweet emo streak that, when cast in dramatic pieces, made us all weep.
He always seemed to be a little interested in me. It was especially evident when I would perform, particularly when I would sing. He would watch me, and I could see the 'friend' face slip away, and it was just a guy watching a girl that he liked. But he would keep me at arms length otherwise, always eternally my 'buddy.'
It was infuriating.
Then, at the end of junior year, he stunned us all with the news that he was going to be transferring to a fine arts college in Boston, starting in September.
All summer, I knew I had to put up or shut up. I attempted to get him alone constantly, but as we all hung out in a group so much, it was tough. He knew, whether consciously or not, how I felt about him, and he kept me away.
Not to brag, but no one said no to me back then. I dated our college quarterback, the president of the best fraternity on campus, and was briefly tied to a Physics professor. And this guy, this drama geek was dodging me. Fuck all that noise.
At a cast party in June, I got drunk, and confronted him. Holly, Michael and I were in the kitchen, knee deep in crappy pot and Lynchburg Lemonades when I saw him looking at me, really looking at me—like I always caught him doing when I was on stage.
I didn't think about what I was going to do, but without warning or much thought at all, I pushed him up against the pantry and kissed him, long and hard. I heard Holly say, "It's about time," and walk out of the kitchen. His eyes were surprised, but then he got into it. He kissed me back, both of us dropping our drinks. I finally pulled back and told him in no uncertain terms that he was coming home with me that night. He agreed.
It had been amazing. We made love all night…and I hate the term "made love"…but that's what it was. It was three years of love and lust spilling out, and the fact that we were such good friends made it even better. He told me he had been in love with me since freshman year.
I lay awake all night, planning. He couldn't leave now…he said he was in love with me. And once I kissed him, I realized that I was in love with him, too. It went way beyond a crush. This was who I wanted. I couldn't wait for the next morning.
As it turned out, I really could have waited. It was all kinds of awkward. He wouldn't even look at me. He was out of there as fast as he could put his pants on, and when he saw me later that day backstage, he couldn't even look me in the eye.
We limped through the rest of that summer. I slowly walled up "All Things Michael O'Connell", and when he left, I never saw him again. I heard about him from time to time through our alumni contacts. He'd become a writer, doing a lot of work off Broadway and then eventually receiving great success writing for both TV and film. That was all I cared to know. And now that mother fucker held my career in his hands.
God damn the luck.
***
I tore through Holly's outer office, pointing Sara back into her chair when she tried to get up. I was seething mad. It didn't matter that I had nailed, and I mean freaking nailed my audition. All my anger, all my angst, all the hurt that I didn't even know was still in there was channeled into my performance and I'd been only slightly pleased when I saw Michael's reaction. He was stunned.
I was just mad.
I slammed into Holly's office, where she was on the phone. Her eyes went wide when she saw me, and I heard her say,
"Tom? I am going to have to call you back. Yes, love to Katie. Yes, OK, bye." She hung up the phone. We stared at each other like a Mexican standoff.
Cue tumbleweeds.
"Are you kidding me?" I said quietly.
"All right now, listen. I didn't know that he—"
"Are you kidding me?" I repeated, my voice beginning to rise.
"Look Grace, settle down," she responded, her pitch mimicking my own.
"Are. You. Kidding. Me?" I yelled, breaking down. I sank into a chair, hysterical sobs breaking over me like a tsunami. All the crap from behind that wall came out, and all over the floor of her office.
She let me cry, handing me tissues when my nose started to run. She knew me well enough to just let me wade through it. When my sobs began to sound merely pathetic rather than anguished, she began to talk.
"First, Grace, I had no idea he was the same guy. It's a common name. Second, I had no idea that you were still so upset over him. I thought you had let all that go. Third—"