Only You

Chapter 1.

"Next!" The director yells.

My palms are sweating as I walk up onto the stage.

There is probably 50 or more people already here. Yay.

I glance at my line. I don't need the script, I remember it, word for word. I need this role.

I take a deep breath and start. "Why, Steven? Why? Am I doing something wrong?" I say, with much emotion.

"Yes. Yes you are doing everything wrong! You don't care for anyone but yourself, you only care about you! You  don't consider my needs! Only when it concerns you! And you're talking about having a baby! No! I don't want to have a baby with a narcissist!" The actor playing my husband yells.

"I am not a narcissist! I care for you! Sorry if you're too blind to see it! I make you breakfast, lunch, and dinner! I clean the house, I do everything! And what do you do, Steven? Sit on the couch, and work! That's all you do, work, work, work! You're a workaholic, Steven, and you know it!" I retort back to my "husband".

"At least one of us works to pay for the bills, Aneyshya! You may do 'everything', but I work to pay the house bills, pay the water bill, the cable, the trash, the gas, the electricity bill and every other bill in the house! You do nothing, you don't even have a job! Heck, you haven't even finished college!" He yells.

I act like I'm too stunned to speak.

"Well I'm sorry if I suggested having a child. Clearly I must've been mistaken when I said 'yes' to marry you." I begin to cry.

"Cut!" The director screams.

I snap out of character.

"How was that?" I ask.

"Perfect. I'd like to have you playing the role of Aneyshya." The director says with a big smile.

"Really? Oh my gosh, I can't believe it, thank you so much!" I gasp.

"No problem, just come back next week at 7:30 sharp, for rehearsal." He adds, whispering something else to the man sitting next to him.

"Okay!" I beam and I leave the stage.

•••

I leave the building and get into my car. For some reason I feel tingly. It's probably because I got the role and I'm just excited.

I exhale and turn on my car. I don't know what I would've done if I didn't get the role.

Probably shrivel up in the corner and cry every day.

Nothing new.

I begin driving when a curly redhead runs in front of my car. I slam the breaks.

"Oh my gosh!" I scream. I open the door and run out of the car, where the  redhead is nowhere to be found.

"What the---" I begin to say when a blonde girl cuts me off.

"Hello!" She says. Her voice is annoying. It's too high pitched and loud. I shouldn't be annoyed of her, I just met her a second ago.

"Hi?" I say, confused, where did she come from?

"I'm your assistant! I will be helping you with whatever you need.. like anything! For the record, I'm an intern so I'm not getting paid." She chuckles.

She's my assistant? Oh no. She's going to drive me crazy.

"Erm.. I have an assistant?" I ask, scratching my arm.

"Now ya do! The bald man, who I think is the manager guy or something.. I don't know.. anyway, told me that the woman who has long wavy black hair is my boss so I was like, 'okay, I have nothing better to do!' so I kinda followed you until right now. By the way, why were you looking in front of your car all confused?" The blonde girl asks, twirling a piece of her straight hair.

"Uhh.. I thought I hit a redhead but she wasn't there and I didn't kill her so I think she ran away before I hit her.." I respond, tugging my jacket down.

"Oh! By the way, I'm Tammy, Tammy Whinsworth! But my friends call me Tam. You have to make a schedule and stuff for me to follow because if you don't---" I cut her off. "Uhh, you can just do what you want. I don't have an extra room in my apartment, so.. I guess if you have a house, you can stay there? Or you can sleep on .y couch. Anyway, I'm not really a schedule person so basically when I call you is when I need you. I'm pretty independent so.." I rant.

"Okay! I do have a home, so I'll just stay there until you need me! But I do need a ride home because I took an Uber here and.." Tamm- Tam is not so annoying but kind of annoying. If I had to rate her on a scale of one to ten, she's a solid 6, which is pretty rare for me, as I get irritated easily. Tam is probably like 15 years old. So I won't be too hard on her.

"Okay, I'll give you a ride. But where do you live, first and foremost."

"Uhh, 2311 Palm Street." That's really close to my house. Convenient.

"Okay. That's like 3 minutes away from my house, so I'll just drop you off before I go to my house."

We both get into the car, and as I drive Tam screams.