Without You | A Shaudrey Story

1

"Tell me how you met her. From the absolute beginning, Audrey."

"I can remember waking up to the sound of chirping birds, perched on the window sill at a bloody ridiculous hour. Four in the morning, I believe. On a weekend!" Her mind ticked over the miniscule details, her nose crinkling gently as all of the memories flooded back. "A Saturday morning... yes. Somehow, I had managed to fall asleep with my reading glasses still on my head and the lamp left on. I can't for the life of me remember what I had been doing the night before, but the way I fell asleep still stands out to me to this day. Maybe it was a sign..." She sighed softly, pursing her lips in silent thought as she brought a slim, well manicured finger towards her forehead, brushing a stray hair back into place.

"A sign for what, Ms. Tindall?" The older man urged her ever so slightly, earning a scoff from the actress. She remained silent as salty tears began to line the bottom of her eyes, threatening to eliminate the little dignity she had left. She was already sat in a tiny, cramped office, scattered with random half dead succulents and abstract paintings, talking to a God forsaken therapist. She couldn't begin to imagine anything more embarrassing than that.

"A sign that something was going to change. And it did. I couldn't manage to fall back to sleep, no matter how hard I tried to, so I spent my morning on the balcony with a black coffee and a copy of my then favourite play. I had been really into Shakespeare at the time, I still am to be completely honest, and i was reading Romeo and Juliet for the third time. Or was it the fourth...?" She chuckled, clearly amused by her brain's lack of clarity, and bit her lip, averting her gaze from the greying man that glared solemnly from his mighty throne in front of her. "I'm not entirely sure, but I was so well acquainted with it that I could recite almost all of it. It's a magnificent play, he was a true literary genius."

Her hands fell into her lap, her fingers slowly intertwining before she could fidget. It was a habit of hers, fidgeting. For as long as she could remember, her brightly painted fingernails tapped against wooden and marble surfaces, comparing the repetitive rhythm she managed create. Since she was a child, she could barely sit still, her shoe clad feet gently stamping out a tune into the termite ridden floorboards of her dilapidated house (She was reluctant to call such place a home. A home would imply warmth, solidarity and happiness, and that was almost the opposite of what was experienced by the small, blonde child within that hellhole of a place) and her hands trailing towards her mouth. Nail biting was the worst of it. Oftentimes, she had bitten her nails so roughly that her fingers had began to bleed, loose skin peeling down past her cuticles. She couldn't help it, though. It was merely an unbreakable coping mechanism, helping her to deal with the stress and anxiety that accompanied her daily life.

"I'm sorry, I'm distracting myself..." Her eyes snapped shut for a moment, as her fingers brushed across her forehead before pinching the bridge of her nose. "I got the call at 7:18. For some reason, that number is permanently etched into my brain."

"Who was the call from?" He peered down at her, his head tilted upwards in an almost pretentious manner, his glasses wobbling on the tip of his nose. at any given moment, they could crash down, slipping downwards until they hit the ground.

"Sidney. Sidney James. He was the producer for My Ro-" With a breath of hesitation, she coughed, clearing the dryness in the back of her throat. "The producer of the show. He told me that he had just watched one of my previous pieces, a play I starred in during my most recent stay in London. I was working alongside a friend of his, a wonderful actress, Octavia Cole, and I assume he was there to see her. He said that he admired the committment I put into the character, as well as the depth of emotion I was able to achieve, and told me that I'd make the perfect Shelby Miller..." The last two words were shortly stalked by another sigh.

"Was that her? The one you grieve?" A single nod was all Audrey could manage, before she allowed her head to fall into her palms. "We can take a break, Audrey, if that's what you need."

"No, no." She sniffed, clearing her nose and looking back up at him as she wiped the dampness from her rouged cheeks. "I can continue... I think. Yes, Shelby was the single most captivating person I have had the pleasure of meeting. She may have been the most irritatingly normal person in the world, but she was humble and kind, and her heart was in the right place, at least for the most part..." She averted her eyes, the blush that covered her cheeks deepened to a fluorescent shade of pink, bright enough to light up a room if it wasn't already broad daylight.

"Care to elaborate on that, Ms Tindall?"

"I'll get to it in a moment, I'm getting sidetracked again. He finished the call by inviting me to his office later that week for a table reading with some candidates for possible roles, and informing me that I was to have dinner with the infamous Shelby that evening. He said it was to begin to get to know her as a person, to study her traits and quirks, as he called them, but I personally think it was more of an evening of earning her approval." The corners of her lips twitched slightly, forming a momentary half smile. No matter how much she resented Sidney and his sheer stupidity not to mention his complete and utter lack of better judgement, she was eternally grateful that he brought Shelby into her life, no matter how briefly it lasted.