"This is the address," Jane leaned forward slightly, sliding a small folded note across the table, "Go and meet him. You are someone who knows what she wants."

Ruby looked at the note and then reached for it. The girl only smiled when she saw Ruby reading the address, "You go for it," She stated, "I saw the spark in you, Ruby. Acting suits you."

Ruby, who was initially annoyed by the girl, realized that she liked her.

***

Ruby pushed open the door to the director’s office and stopped.

Uh huh. The waiting area was packed.

The girls had occupied every chair, and some were even standing along the wall. There were a few who were pacing there with scripts clutched in their hands.

The buzz of excitement that had settled in the pit of her stomach suddenly dropped.

Wasn’t this supposed to be my moment? She complained to God secretly.

Why are all these bitches swarming the place? Did Jane send everyone here?

Her fingers tightened around her bag as she forced herself to walk ahead. There was no empty seat, and the vacant one had its legs broken.

She tried to look composed and calm, struggling to suppress her anger.

I don’t know if I did the right thing to trust that girl. For God’s sake, she ate Vanilla custard with my money.

Her face snapped up when a girl came out wiping her tears. The poor thing’s face was red with a little mascara smudged.

"What’s the matter? Why did she come out like this?" Her eyes followed the girl who left in a hurry.

I wish Tom were at my side in this life, too. See, what I’m going through without him. Marrying him in this life was a mistake.

Her gaze stayed fixed on the door, not knowing when it would be her turn.

One by one, girls were called for the interview. Some came out upset, while some of them were jumping with joy as if they had hit the jackpot.

The crowd had started thinning, and now Ruby was seated on a decent chair. Her legs and her tired body were killing her.

"Ms. Ruby Blackwell."

She was on her feet before she even realized it. Gathering the confidence, she walked in. The office was quieter and nicer than she expected.

A middle-aged man who must be the director sat behind the desk, flipping through some papers. He barely spared her a glance.

"Good afternoon, sir," She stepped forward with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

The man hummed in response, still not looking up.

She waited patiently, trying to decide if she should take the seat without his invitation.

Ruby waited.

A second.

Two.

Three...

And then a few minutes passed.

Finally, he lifted his head, his eyes scanning her, slow and assessing.

"Please sit down."

With a forced smile, Ruby plopped on the seat, keeping her back straight.

"I’m ready," She flipped her hair, which was her signature style. The same style that helped her with so many roles in her past life.

"You can give me any scene. Emotional, intense – even something dark or villainous —"

"What’s your favorite color?" He cut in.

Ruby blinked, trying to recover from the shock, "Excuse me?"

"Color," He repeated, tapping his pen, "You have one, don’t you?"

"R—red..." She said slowly, not sure if he was serious.

He nodded and wrote something on the paper placed on the desk, "What did you eat this morning?"

Now Ruby was sure she had lost her mind. Was that why all those girls were upset and were crying?

Her brows pulled together as she realized that he was waiting for her answer, "Um... I ... toast and coffee."

Now she really wanted to confirm if this was the said agency or a mental hospital.

"Do you cry easily? I mean, without using glycerine?"

Urgh! At last, a sensible question.

"I can," Her expression turned thoughtful, "Yes, if the scene requires then—"

"Have you ever slapped someone?"

Silence.

Ruby was sure that she was at the wrong place and that girl, Jane, made her a fool just because she wanted to eat Vanilla custard for free.

What if she made a bet about it?

"I asked you a question, lady," the man took off his glasses, "Have you ever slapped someone?"

"No..." Why would I?

"Would you?" He asked again.

Her fingers curled on her lap. Yes. I want to slap you, fucker!

"If it’s for a role, I can adapt," She said quietly.

He started jotting down something. Ruby fixed her gaze on the paperweight that sat on his desk.

Exhaustion was slowly taking over her senses, and all she wanted to do right now was scream at the top of her lungs.

She was not a fool.

None of this had anything to do with acting.

She leaned forward a little, "Sir. If you’d like, I can perform a scene for you," She offered, trying to pull this.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, studying her. His gaze was making her uncomfortable.

Something was off.

"Ms. Ruby Blackwell," His voice got quieter, as his eyes locked onto hers.

She held his gaze.

"Any idea what a casting couch is?"

Ruby didn’t move.

Was he... was he truly asking...

Her fingers tightened on her lap as she nodded at him, "Yes, sir. I do. Why?"

"Because if you want this role, you need to check my couch, which is in the adjoining room."

Ruby thought she was dreaming. This was outright insulting.

How could he?

Did he even know who she was?

"Are you out of your fu*cking mind?" She hissed at him.

Tom would shoot him if he came to know about this. Or he might not allow her to go to the auditions at all.

Ruby gave the man a mean look and then got up from her seat. Before leaving, she didn’t forget to show him her middle finger.