You've Only Just Arrived (a Tom Hiddleston fan fiction)

Part 5

     Upon entering the room you are warmly greeted by the casting director, a man who reminds you of your theater teacher from college. He introduces you in turn to the individuals sitting alongside him – almost in order of the chain of command, working from himself up to the man you recognize moments before the casting director says his name – the director of the project. After introductions you drop your bag to the floor beside the chair they've set out in front of them. 

Was that your phone buzzing? It was hard to place the origin of the sound over the shifting of all the people sitting before you and the added movement of the script and other odd things in your bag. Really you didn't need to bring the script with you, but you had thought you would have had a moment to go over your notes to yourself... but that was before you eavesdropped on the conversation that now squeezes your heart a bit too tightly. You start to lean over to adjust the way the bag is sitting and maybe pull the pages out but stop the action when the casting director addresses you:

"Before we get started - ______, welcome back. You were absolutely lovely in your audition and I wanted you to know that. We loved the interpretation of Emily that you brought to the table then."

Were absolutely lovely. Loved. Past tense. As in we don't love your interpretation anymore because someone did something better, but thanks for playing. You keep your breathing calm and level by dropping yourself out of the moment as much as you can.

"We think we've found--" he glances askance before amending the words, "we have cast our Jack and are hoping that we might have the right fit with you playing against him."

That – was not what you were expecting him to say. You blink to let the words sink in for a moment before smiling. "I – thank you! – I'd love to give it a go."

"Excellent." He beams down the line at the other faces, most of which are smiling -- but you notice the production manager, or were they introduced as the production coordinator, doesn't seem to be so very interested in the conversation. "We're actually going to have to wait a few minutes for his arrival so let's just run through a few lines and then we'll see where we're at." You nod before squaring yourself in your chair and letting your careful construct of Emily take control.

Half an hour later you're up and pacing, you've just finished a particularly tense bit of dialogue with all... but again, just the one... seeming to enjoy themselves as they follow along on the pages they have before them. At least for the most part they are again liking what you are showing them. You've amended small bits of your reactions as a result of your discussions with Tom regarding certain moments. Thankfully a break is called so you can scoop up one of the bottles of water they've kindly provided. You choose not to reseat yourself right away, the energy you've called upon for the scene making you a bit restless now that you don't have a way to expel it. Pacing doesn't seem to be doing the trick so you let Emily slip back into the corner where you've nestled her away in your mind. 

With a glance down at the far end of the table the casting director then checks his watch, "We'll just call down to the lobby and see if he's made it yet... We did agree to the 10:30-10:45 time range."

While he makes his phone call you perch on the edge of your chair to scoop up the script from your bag and flip through the pages to review some of your notes. Remember how tenuous the relationship is by this time. Or Would she allow Jack to see how horribly he's injured her here or would she strive for impassiveness? In searching out a particular phrase you wanted to highlight you notice writing on pages you don't remember commenting on. A closer look brings a tender smile – Tom has written you notes as to his feelings on the scenes, or – you flip through another couple of pages – in agreement with your assessment. Bless him. You trace a fingertip over his handwriting, figuring he had written it while waiting for you to finish getting ready for your night out.