"Cut! Alice, honey, you’re supposed to be sad, not about to rip the kid's head off! Marker, take 10... And action!" Bill, the director of EMERALD CITY, said.
I, Alice, am a 14 year old actress. I am playing Sylvia, the main character, & she has just recently been heartbroken by Jeff, her (NOW) ex boyfriend, who is played by the loathsome, Alexander “Great” Grander. I hate his guts! Just because he is arrogant! I look into his stupid one green, one blue eye and start to falsely sob.
“Oh, Jeff! Why does it have to be this way?! I thought you loved me!” I was really making tears; I just learned how to do that on command.
“Dear Sylvia. Get it together. I’m sure you’ll find another.” He told me patting my shoulder. I wanted to yank off his arm.
I sniffed. “Don’t you see, Jeff? I won’t ever find another! I fell in love with ya’, and I drowned I tell ya’!” I sobbed harder, (falsely, of course)
“And CUT!! Great job, kids. See you after lunch!” Bill said.
“NEVER touch me again, mmmkay?” I sneered at Alexander.
“Don’t plan on it Bulldog!” He flared back.
“Drama Queen!!!” I fired off.
“Tomboy! Butch!” He jeered.
“Invalid!!” I screamed, referring to his bum leg. I didn’t mean to though.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t intend—“I started.
“Shut up! Leave me alone.” He limped off. I felt bad.
“Xander, wait!” I said. He turned.
“How did you know?” He demanded. I knew his mother used to call him that, before she died.
“I was walkin’ by your trailer yesterday and I heard your home movies. Your mamma was very beautiful.” I said apologetically.
“Thanks, “he said gruffly,” Just stay outta’ my business, peeper!” he smirked.
“Will do, bum!” I smiled back, he scowled. “I shouldn’t be so mean, mamma died when I was real little…” I thought.
‘Don you wanna’… never mind, it’s stupid.” I started, trying to make up for my meanness.
“Do I wanna’ what?” He wondered.
“Go get some lunch with me?” I asked through my teeth, ready for a teasing answer.
He smiled, “Sure, I’d love to. Where?”
“Um, I don’t really know any good places to go here in Rome.” I admitted sheepishly.
“Well’ they say, ‘When in Rome: take a tour guide’.” he laughed.
“Will we be noticed?” I asked uncertainly.
“No paparazzi in Rome, silly!” he chuckled.
“Okay then.” I agreed, smiling now too. His one blue, one green eyes suddenly sparkled beautifully with delight. We walked off to the nearest café.