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The house of Iris Kingston in Bel Air stood as one of the area's residential gems

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The house of Iris Kingston in Bel Air stood as one of the area's residential gems. A modern structure spanning thirty-five thousand square meters on a vast, strictly guarded estate nestled in the verdant hills of the Santa Monica Mountains, bathed in the golden California sun.

Iris reclined on the surface of the outdoor pool, luxuriating in its warmth. She had just completed an exhausting two-hour training session with her personal trainer and planned to steal a few moments alone before her mother diverted her attention elsewhere. Lately, meeting her mother's high demands had become increasingly challenging. She knew her mother had been disappointed when her Grammy nomination for Best New Artist fell through, but ever since she became fixated on that movie, her behavior had become rather obsessive. She hired a private acting coach, had her daughter lighten her hair, and even monitored her low-calorie diet, all in an attempt to better fit the role. Iris initially protested, but her mother always managed to persuade her with irrefutable arguments.

She was weary. Not even doses of Adderall could acclimate her to the frenetic pace. It seemed as though no one cared at all. In reality, no one from Iris's team dared to confront Claudia Kingston, the formidable matriarch who held her daughter firmly in her grasp.

She closed her eyes, and Joel Delaney's face infiltrated her thoughts. She didn't need Google or her mother's half-hour lecture to understand that he fell into the category of "bad boys." But ever since their brief encounter, he had persistently invaded her subconscious.

Did Joel also feel the relentless pressure? Perhaps that was the reason for his troublesome behavior. Although, according to Iris's mother, it was due to his background. That, and an incompetent manager who couldn't handle his wild temperament.

The click of high heels echoed on the marble tiles. "There you are," her mother said, accompanied by a personal assistant. "I thought you were still training with Rodrigo."

"He left a moment ago."

"Alright. Take a quick shower, and we'll head to the audition. Gia has prepared clothes for you, and Eli Winters will stop by in half an hour to assist you." Eli was a renowned celebrity makeup artist who boasted his own line of luxury products.

"Okay," Iris sighed resignedly.

"And please, sweetheart, don't look so sour. Do you know how much effort it took me to bring him here from London?" Her mother's phone rang, sparing Iris from further reprimands. "Hello? Ted? I was just about to call you. How are we doing with the sales?" She inquired before retreating back into the house.

Iris swam to the edge and hoisted herself onto the heated floor. Once again, she felt like an ungrateful child. What was she actually complaining about? Her mother only wanted the best for her – she couldn't blame her for that. She saw how busy her mother was. She had given up everything to make her a star. What harm was there in her mother trying to advance her career? She shrugged off the towel and headed to prepare herself.

Two hours later, as she recited her lines in the limousine, nerves gripped her. With subtle, professional makeup and wearing a white asymmetrical dress, she looked stunning. But when it came to acting, doubts gnawed at her. Shooting music videos was different – there, mastering the choreography under the careful guidance of dancers and lip-syncing correctly sufficed. But portraying a character in front of the camera demanded much more. She had to look, speak, and even think like Princess Venetia. Iris feared it might exceed her capabilities.

As the limousine halted in front of the production building, her confidence waned. Immediately, she noticed several people with large cameras at the entrance.

"What are the paparazzi doing here?" she asked, alarmed. If this audition didn't pan out, her failure would be splashed across all media.

"Perhaps someone tipped them off," her mother said, winking conspiratorially at her.

"You didn't!"

"Relax, Iris. You've got this role in the bag. No one will find a better Venetia. And a bit of attention before the tour begins won't hurt."

"You can't know that! What if it doesn't work out, and I become a laughingstock?"

"It will work out. My intuition never fails."

Iris scowled angrily, but when her driver opened the door, and she was blinded by the flashes of cameras, she put on her typical smile. In the end, she wasn't that much of a novice in acting.

The audition for the lead roles took place in a small meeting room on the top floor. As Iris entered, a group of people was already seated behind a long table – three men, among whom she recognized the screenwriter Jack Stonewell, and one woman.

"Welcome, Iris. We've been expecting you," Jack greeted her, offering her a seat on the opposite side of the table.

Iris felt the gaze of everyone present boring into her. "Hello," she greeted back and sank into the leather chair. She noted the walls adorned with posters of successful movies backed by the production company.

"We'll start with the scene where Princess Venetia realizes she's in love with Leon Thoren," said the younger man with glasses beside Jack. Iris surmised that he was likely the director, Gale Callahan.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and endeavored to embody Venetia. It was crucial to convey the right facial expression, tone of voice, and gesture at the right moment. Despite her efforts, Iris felt she hadn't quite nailed it. How was she supposed to portray a lovestruck girl when she knew nothing about love? Doubts plagued her continuously. She glanced at Jack, who watched her performance intently.

Gale Callahan glanced over his notes and then leaned over to whisper something to the older, gray-haired man beside him. That must be Henry Goldstein, Iris thought. He had an inscrutable expression, like someone who didn't readily reveal his emotions. He scrutinized her with the critical gaze of his blue eyes.

The scene progressed, and Iris gave it her all. After it concluded, silence enveloped the room once more.

"Now, let's try another scene, where Venetia discovers that Leon murdered her father. Are you up for it, Iris?"

Iris looked at Jack Stonewell, who nodded encouragingly. "Of course, I'll give it a try."

After the sceneconcluded, silence descended again.

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 23 ⏰

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