CAMBOY | PHAN AU

Casting In Session

The thin silk slid off my shoulders, I exhaled sharply letting goosebumps spread across my body. I curled my toes, standing stiffly. I was in a row with the other boys and men, they seemed to be more confident than I. The boxers I was given were a size too small but so was everyone else's.

The boy on my left must have been only sixteen but he was littered in bruises and 'love' bites. The man on my right was a bulky tall man, taller than me and he was shaped to perfection. These two by my side made me even more self conscious and made me question why I even came. This is hardly moral but it's what I need. You see, I was looking for a job after having to move out from my old home to a smaller flat. I had a steady income but recently it dropped to the point that my bank account is overdrawn and I'm also in debt with family. Completely in the red.

''Number 86, to Howell's office.'' The megaphone crackled.

Slender men in grey sleek suits patrolled the long line, stopping on some of the other applicants to press a coloured sticker on their chest which meant they had to been chosen to see 'Howell'. Not many spoke of Howell and I suppose not many know what he looks like.

''Number 49, to Howell's office.''

I knew I wouldn't be chosen. Pale, skinny, tall Phil. Unexperienced, nervous, northern Phil. If I was Howell I wouldn't choose me either, he would have to be crazy but then again I heard he is.

''Number 16, to Howell's office.''

I clenched my fists tight until my knuckles turned pure white and my nails dug into my palms. I let my eyes shut, waiting for it to be over.

''Number 77, to Howell's office.''

But what if I do get chosen?

''Number 4, to Howell's office.''

What do I say? How do I act?

Pat. Pat.

My eyes shot open. What?!

''Number 9, to Howell's office.''

I looked at the center of my chest to see a small pink sticker on me. Did I just get chosen? My mouth dried and my throat felt swollen, making it hard to swallow.

''Number 9?''

Oh, crap.

A pair of large hands took me from the shoulders, moving me out of the line. The grey suited man escorted me to a oddly large stair case. The hands didn't let go of me and they pushed me forward up the steps, each creaking under my gentle foot. ''Don't mess this up kid, you have potential.'' A voice said, I looked behind to see the face belonging to the hands. He was fairly young and seemed slightly out of place also. The boy was pale but not as pale as I and he was a few inches shorter than me.

I swallowed harshly in an attempt to put some moisture in my mouth, ''Is Howell nice?''

He took a moment to answer, ''To you...? Maybe.'' There seemed to be a sadness in his hazel eyes, I wanted to ask but I wasn't sure so I mutely nodded. He let go of my shoulders and knocked on Howell's door. ''I'll probably see you about..'' his thin lips twitched up to a smile as he skipped down the stairs.

I took a deep breath in and a shaky one out, I pushed the door open to a classic looking study. The walls were just bookshelves apart from the main back wall which was where a desk was. It was Howell's desk, I couldn't see hi though as he was sitting on a large leather seat with the back to me. I took this time to embrace my surroundings. There was a theme of deep greens, harvest stain wood all tied together with rich reds.

There was a chill, not just due to the lack of clothes but the lack of communication.

I took a few tentative steps forward onto the Persian rug, curling my toes like before. I wanted to speak up, say something but I felt I couldn't. I felt if I did I would be rude but then again, did he even acknowledge me being there?