Acting Brave (Fenbrook Academy #3) by Helena Newbury Read Free Book Online Page A

from the academy, as if to rub it in. I closed my eyes. Next spring, I’d graduate. And then I’d be just another unemployed actor in New York, faced with the choice of trying to hack out a living on the theater circuit or move to LA to disappear into a sea of hopefuls. My best shot was right here, at Fenbrook. The academy was very proud of all the careers it had helped launch—countless big names had been discovered by castings just like the one that morning. Because they hadn’t been idiots and spent vital minutes looking for a shoe just to maintain some stupid illusion. Because they really were actresses, and not just faking it.
    Because they deserved to be here.
    I sank slowly down into a cold, dark place. I could feel the walls that formed Jasmine groan and creak, their plaster cracking dangerously, but I was past caring. Maybe I’d used up all my luck. Maybe getting out of Chicago and having three years here with my friends was all I got. Maybe this was the start of everything falling apart, and all I could do was watch it happen.
    “Please,” I whispered to whoever was listening. “Please. Just a little more.”
    But no one answered.
    And then, down in that dark place, something flared into life, burning hot and bright. A little spark of Jasmine, down amongst the Emma.
    Maybe I had run out of luck.
    Or maybe I had to make my own.
    I opened my eyes and saw that the female cop was only a few yards away.
    “Hey,” I said, sniffing back tears. “How much to borrow your uniform?”
     
    ***
     
    I looked up at the glittering, glass-walled office building and, for the thirtieth time, tried to adjust the too-tight shirt. “This is ridiculous,” I told the cop. “I can barely breathe.”
    “Next time, pick a cop who’s actually your shape,” said the cop.
    It had taken me almost a half hour to convince her. She’d walked away three times, shaking her head, telling me how much trouble she could get into if we got caught. In the end, I think it was only the tears in my eyes that weakened her.
    Her name was Sierra, which I’d found hilarious because Sierra is cop-speak for “S” on the radio. I kept quiet, though, because I probably wouldn’t have been the first one to point it out to her.
    I took another breath and the shirt buttons actually creaked. Sierra was an A cup at most and I’m an F. The difference wasn’t subtle.
    “You pop those buttons, you’re paying for a new shirt,” Sierra told me. She was practically drowning in my dress. We’d changed in a McDonald’s restroom across the street, which had attracted a fair amount of attention when we’d gone in together and even more when we came out.
    I gave her a look. When she’d told me she wanted five hundred dollars to borrow her uniform, I’d almost given up on the whole thing. There would be no way I could pay my rent at the end of the month, and the whole crazy scheme only had a slim chance of working.
    But it was the only shot I had. And five hundred dollars to get my dream part was nothing.
    “You sure I can’t borrow the gun?” I asked. The empty holster felt wrong.
    “Are you nuts?!” Sierra whispered. “I could get suspended for this as it is!” She’d stuffed the gun into my purse, which I was going to leave her with when I went inside the building. We figured we were both in roughly equal amounts of trouble if we got caught. “And don’t go using anything on the belt!”
    I looked down at the equipment belt, where a nightstick and a bewildering array of other equipment hung. “Uh, okay.”
    “And don’t answer the radio!”
    “Got it.”
    “And be quick!”
    I left her standing nervously outside and headed in. As I pushed my way through the revolving door, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second. Do “cop,” I told myself.
     
    ***
     
    I’ve been into offices before, mostly applying for temping jobs. I had a pretty good idea of how I’d be treated by the men (leched at, propositioned, and gently