Alice in La La Land by Sophie Lee Read Free Book Online Page B

Gwyneth Paltrow had passed on Goldenberg's offer and the spot was now open for an unknown. Some lucky actress's career would be made by securing this role.
    Danny Goldenberg's headquarters in Santa Monica were not what Alice had imagined. She had envisaged marble and stainless steel and pointy-edged furniture. To her surprise, his offices were housed in what looked like a converted barn. The walls were exposed brick and the russet shades matched the beams on the ceiling. Office doors were painted shiny red and work desks were visible to visitors. The overall effect was cheerfully studious. The 1980s-style décor was reminiscent of a groovy university library, not the epicentre of one of the biggest production companies on the planet. The casting session was taking place at the very top of the building, close to the ceiling; it took three flights of stairs to reach it. Once at the top, one could look down to the offices below. Alice felt as though she were in a rogue pigeon's nest.
    She was intrigued by the one scene she had been given to prepare. Goldenberg would not release the full script to any of the unknowns testing for the part. He had rationed
out only what was absolutely necessary. Alice wondered how he could be spending a rumoured $100 million on the budget without allocating any of this to a decent scriptwriter.
    The audition scene took place on the eve of the Battle of Iwo Jima. The nurse, Betty-Sue, was declaring her undying love for one of the brothers. Alice was unsure which brother he was and whether the nurse favoured him over the other. It was impossible to contextualise it in the absence of the whole screenplay. The two-page scene ended with the line, 'If I ever see another sunset . . . or write another letter . . . I'll think of you.' Chances were, Betty-Sue would find herself performing both activities once or twice over the next sixty-odd years of her life. It wasn't as though she'd been able to pinpoint a very specific activity that would remind her of him. For example, she could have said, 'If I ever happen to be stung by a wasp when changing a patient's dressing, I'll think of you.' A far more specific memory trigger, she reckoned. At the end of the nurse's declaration regarding sunsets and letters, Alice/Betty-Sue was to cry. It said so in the big print. Hence, the onion.
    Twelve minutes passed. There were still three ahead of her in the waiting room and Alice hunkered down for a long wait. A pungent scent wafted upwards as she shifted in her seat. The vegetable chunk was probably losing its potency. Alice hadn't factored in the possibility of lengthy delays and wished she'd brought a back-up onion and Stanley knife. Unfortunately, her Stanley knife had been confiscated by customs back at Sydney airport.
    '. . . even tested Charlize Theron for it,' said one of the actresses to the other two.
    '. . . bigger than Titanic . . .' whispered the actress next in line, who'd gone to the trouble of putting finger waves in her hair and applying red lipstick. Alice, chastened by her 'plaid' experience, had resisted the urge to dress according to the period and was in jeans and a T-shirt.
    Alice regarded the three other actresses in the waiting room. They were equally young, thin and beautiful. It was a textbook Hollywood casting session. They were looking for an unknown actress to turn into a huge star. According to Rebekah, they wanted a girl who invoked Grace Kelly. Alice wondered whether she had any Kelly-like qualities. She doubted it. A rounder, freckly-faced Grace Kelly in Converse sneakers, maybe? She looked down at one scuffed toe and wondered whether she should have at least worn heels. Getting this role would be like winning the lottery. Whoever got the job would be instantaneously catapulted into a different sphere. The smell of the onion was beginning to make Alice feel nauseous.
    She looked at her watch. 5.30 pm. She was ready for them. As soon as they called her name, she would thrust her fingers