Page 3 of Unscripted

I didn’t care if it felt like I was sleeping on rocks. Blair was offering a roof over my head and the comforting company of an old friend.

I said “yes” immediately and was moved in by the day’s end.

***

I spent the first week of my unemployment in overdrive. I walked in circles around Hyde Park, got lost in Harrods, explored the Victoria and Albert Museum from top to bottom, twice. Amid my wanderings, I also threw myself into trying to get another job. I emailed old co-workers and followed up with the contacts Kevin had sent over. I obsessively scoured online message boards on Craig’s List like “Filmmakers Wanted” and “PAs Needed.”

Freelancing was par for the course with my occupation, and I was used to moving from project to project with only a few days’ notice. This time, though, it was quickly becoming clear that the London job market was more dire than I expected. Shoots were either already staffed or, more often than not, one-day gigs compensated with lunch and an Oyster card. Free food and a bus pass simply wouldn’t be enough to get me back on my feet.

As the days ticked by and employment remained elusive, the drive I felt to rebound from losing my job slowly turned to despair. The countdown of how many days were left on my visa, coupled with my dwindling bank account balance, played on a loop in my mind, always there to remind me how unsteady I really was and how precarious my time in the UK remained.

The Thursday of my second week of unemployment found me in the middle of a rewatch of The Vampire Diaries. I had seen the series all the way through twice already, but a third time seemed like a great idea. I'd been watching Damon and Elena dramatically kissing on their road trip to find Stephen when my “bedroom” door was thrown open.

“Okay, enough,” Blair said, crossing the room to its large bay windows and pulling open the curtains. I threw my hands over my eyes, blocking out the bright light streaming in.

It had somehow become morning, and I had somehow stayed up all night watching teenage vampires.

“You can’t fall back into Vampire Diaries. You did that junior year when Matt broke up with you.”

“That wasn’t even that bad,” I retorted, pulling my hands away from my face and looking up at her.

“You didn’t leave your room for two weeks and you watched all seven seasons.”

“Okay, well, I was sad. This time, it’s just a little break from reality.”

Blair didn’t say anything but simply fixed me with her piercing gaze. It was her work face, the serious one that had garnered her such professional success. I blinked back at her and sighed. There was no use trying to argue. I supposed she did have a point anyway.

I pulled myself up and closed my laptop.

“Fine, no more vampires.”

“Great! Now, get yourself showered and dressed. You have a job interview this afternoon,” she said, as casually as if she had just told me the weather.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Hunter just called. His law firm represents a production company looking to staff one of their reality shows. He mentioned he had a friend who needed a job, and they said to have you come in for a meeting.”

“Are you serious? B, this is amazing!”

“Just thank me when you win your Oscar and we’ll be good.”

I stood up on the bed and grabbed an empty water bottle from the nightstand, holding it in my hands as though it was a precious award.

“I’d like to thank the Academy for this honor,” I fake cried as Blair rolled her eyes at me. “I’d also like to thank the illustrious Blair Connelly who helped me along the way. Even though it was in something as stupid as reality television, it saved me from being out on the streets.”

“You’re ridiculous. And reality TV is amazing, you snob.”

I hopped off the bed as Blair left the room, telling me she’d text me the details of the meeting. I was suddenly feeling much lighter.

Maybe this would be the break I needed to get me back on track.

***

Despite what my most recent former boss might think, I was good at what I did. I knew how to operate efficiently on a film set, could get along with anyone on a crew, and was always where I needed to be when I needed to be there. I had also been working for enough years that I was confident in my own abilities.

And yet here I was, on the way to my interview, clamming up. The pressure of the meeting, and what it meant for my foreseeable future, sat like a heavy weight in my stomach, turning it to knots.

It also didn’t help that I took the gray clouds in the sky at face value and wore a sweater with a nice pair of black pants. By the time I had taken the Tube and walked the few blocks to the office building, the skies had cleared, the sun was shining, and I was sweating.