𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳

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𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟑𝐫𝐝, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟕 || 𝐁𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐚

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𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟑𝐫𝐝, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟕 || 𝐁𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐚

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Ophelia Irene Banks.

The name of the alluring woman I couldn't seem to get my mind off of. The night she officially introduced me to herself, I felt like I was living a mere dream. She was open, completely transparent which was a contrast to her dismissive behavior when I first met her. I made sure to only ask surface-level questions, I didn't want to make her uncomfortable. I assumed she took notice of this because before she left, she surprisingly thanked me.

It was a rude 'thank you', of course.

I'm currently at the castings for my music video that I plan on shooting this month, in search of a love interest for the film. I saw a few familiar faces upon the crowd of women that had numbers taped onto their torso's. Paula Abdul waved at me and I kindly waved back, trying my best to not show favoritism to anyone. I could see a few women mugging her with envy after our wave, making me gulp lightly.

"Kid, you alright?" Frank asked with concern.

"Y-Yeah, I'm alright," I reassured him. Things have been a bit awkward between me and Frank because I haven't told him about my meetings with Ophelia simply because it doesn't involve him. Yes, he's my manager but he doesn't need to manage my life.

Auditions began and I was not only looking for an attractive woman, but I was also looking for someone whom I've never seen before. I wanted to give an amateur a chance because even I know how hard it is to come up from nothing.

"I like her," Frank said as he pointed at a young lady with blonde, short hair.

"Eh," I shook my head.

"Or maybe her?" he suggested another young woman who I didn't find too attractive.

"No," I giggled.

Just as I was about to dismiss everyone, my eyes scanned around the room cautiously until they fell upon a young woman with long, brown curly hair. She was the most fitting woman for the part and although I felt no sort of attraction toward her, she was beautiful nonetheless.

"Her," I pointed at the woman who had number '85' taped onto her torso. The woman looked flustered as I pointed and I immediately retracted my hand.

"Number 85, please step forward," Frank said into the microphone. "Everyone else, thank you so much for being here! We appreciate it wholeheartedly."

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