Rose Petals Vol1

Chapter 4 Agency and More Agencies

Maya had fallen behind in looking for an agency. Her first week of school was hectic. She was not interested in chemistry and was never good at it in high school. Most of the formulas she got mixed up, and one time almost set the lab on fire by mixing two explosive ingredients. The teacher had no choice but to dismiss class entirely and call in the fire department, who also called in the bomb squad since it was something chemical. Who also came along with the narcotics team. One should always know never to mix bleach and ammonia, for instance. But poor Maya was even clueless about that. She was given the option of only doing textbook work, which would only require her to stay in class for a short time. This made the other students whisper about her, every time she got up to leave. She decided to have her high school principal email the college, as a warning to not allow her to do any serious lab work.

Drama class was by far the worst, since she was too nervous to participate. The other female actresses were treacherous in dealing with her. It seemed as if she was back in middle school or, worse, high school. To keep the other girls from bullying her (or a fight from breaking out, since Maya knew how to fight, taking up a dance course in ba ji quan, which also taught defense mechanisms.), she was given the task of running errands. It made the others laugh at her except for Naoko, who said that she would free up some of her time to drop by the apartment and rehearse a few lines with her.

Classes were Mondays & Wednesdays except for drama class, which would sometimes take an extra Thursday morning. Those days, Maya was on full errand runs, which was too difficult to do on foot. By the time Thursday evening came around, she was exhausted. They would be seen by Mrs. Wilsworth passed out on the couch when she went by looking for one of her cats, or the strays that she thought were hers..

Thursday evening had come quickly. When you're out and about, time surely seems to fly. Shiho was still at the office. She texted Maya a few hours earlier, saying she had to work on a few plans with the new guy, and she should go ahead and eat dinner. Maya already knew what that meant. The only plan that Shiho ever did was to get a guy into her bed or herself into his.

Dinner consisted of store-bought pre-made food or something from the vending machines. Sometimes the plumbers’ wives would give them leftovers. The girls dreaded this because it was always some form of pasta drenched in a heavy oily sauce. Shiho thought that this was done on purpose to ruin her expensive clothes. Still, they were thankful for a home-cooked meal and swallowed it sparingly.

Maya unraveled the store-bought cuisine and threw it into the microwave. She pulled out her list and began dialing. She was able

to get in touch with two agencies. Most of them were gone for the day.

“Tomorrow morning, at what time? Yes, I can be there.” And “What time did you say again? I can come later. I have an appointment around that time. Yes, thank you.”

She smiled with satisfaction, placing her phone down. She grabbed her microwaved dish and sat on the couch. She had the apartment to herself, which was welcoming. Shiho usually had a guy over or a few female coworkers that were just like clones of herself. Men were always their topic and when Naoko came over, it was ten times worse. She was more man-hungry than Shiho. Always juggling two men at the same time. The apartment became a hideout for her to take one or the other, whichever she chose for that particular moment. Sometimes she entertained two different guys in a day, just a few hours apart. Ten minutes after one left, there would be a cab pulling up to the apartment. Maya couldn’t tell whether he was coming for Naoko or Shiho.

Naoko and Shiho became close, with this alone and Maya, as always, felt like an outsider. Already Tokyo was starting to feel like California. She was beginning to realize she had nothing in common with them and resulted in drowning herself in her music. It seemed that she appreciated Naoko more, who would defend her when Shiho would start teasing her about being pure. “Good for you Maya,” Naoko would say. “Stay innocent and don’t taint yourself like I did. If I could go back, I would have chosen my friends wisely.”

She threw the empty container away.

“I better get to bed early and set the alarm. Have to look bright and sharp for tomorrow.”

She quickly tidied up the kitchen, changed into her pajamas and lunged into bed. She must have been nervous about tomorrow. She tossed and turned the night until finally she was able to drift off into a deep sleep.

As she turned under her covers, she noticed the light and warmth of the morning sun.

“What time is it? Oh no 9:07am., but I set my alarm to eight.”

She jumped up quickly, snatching the alarm off her dresser. Shaking it and turning it upside down, she noticed a loose spring.

“It probably got damaged when a few of my belongings were sent to me. I’ll have to make sure to get a new one.”

She rushed out of her room into the living room. Shiho’s bedroom door was still closed. She could hear what sounded like a man snoring.

“She must be sleeping in late. Good. I’ll have time to take a quick shower, get dressed and.... no time for breakfast.”

Luckily, their apartment was a fifteen minute walk from the first agency and a five minute walk from that one to the next.

“If I hurry and run, then I would only be a few minutes late.”

Maya reached the agency exhausted and out of breath. She had run as fast as she could and was standing out front.

“Better straighten myself before I enter.”

She dusted off her dress and the heels that she pulled from Shiho’s closet the night before. There was an obvious run in her stockings, hopefully it wasn’t too noticeable. She hoped that the run wouldn’t continue straight up her leg. For now, it only stopped,

near her calf. She opened the door and walked towards the receptionist. There were two other girls waiting , filling out papers.

“Hello, my name is Maya Singh.”

Not looking up, the receptionist handed her a clipboard and motioned her to sit down near the others. Maya thanked her and took a seat, a few seats down from the other girls. A few more girls followed and soon all fourteen seats were filled. She glanced around, noticing how attractive these girls were. A male and a female came out and put all the girls into the room. They stood in line as the female walked back and forth looking over them, intensely. The male stood in the distance reading over their applications. The girls were then told to walk, pose, speak and were asked a few personal questions. Thirty minutes later, they were all dismissed with: “We’ll call you.”

The same was followed at the next agency, filling out applications and a pre-audition screening in groups. Maya wondered how she could stand out from the rest of the girls. They were all strikingly beautiful with a fair to medium complexion. Maya was slightly darker than them with a hint of gold tone to her skin, almost like the metal itself.

At the last agency, one of the screeners asked Maya about her purple highlights at the end of her jet black hair, and if she was willing to dye her hair a different color, or cut it. The purple meant a lot to her because it was her mother’s favorite color. She had it done right after the accident as a memorial to her. She couldn’t contemplate cutting her hair since it was the pride and beauty of almost every Indian woman. She knew her dad would probably have a heart attack at the sight of seeing her with a bob, or worse, a mohawk.

She was also asked if she could add more sunscreen lotion to her beauty regime, to stop her skin from getting any darker. One agent told her to avoid the sun as much as possible. Walking in the shade or keeping an umbrella handy was her best bet. The woman ended the conversation by stating her complexion was indeed lovely but was prone to blotches, dark spots, and uneven skin tones. In this industry, fairness and flawlessness are the key to being a star. It seemed to Maya that these agents were becoming more like Bollywood films. Such a real shock to foreigners who idolized them, that when they enthusiastically venture to India only to say, “Hey what’s up with all these brown people and where did all the fair-skinned people go?”

Weeks went by with pre-screenings for Maya. She was beginning to feel that she would never get a call back. She had confidence in her talent and she knew she wasn’t bad looking, but her sense of style and her attitude were way out of the norm for an idol. She blended in well with the locals, but for the agencies, she looked like a bad seed, someone that would be hard to control. During class she kept her phone on vibration and waited anxiously for a call. Twice she ran out of class thinking it would be an agent, but was disappointed at the voice of a telemarketer asking to send information on school enrollment. Ironic, isn’t it? Her nights were sleepless as she tossed and turned.

One night she dreamt that she would get a call-back. Another night she dreamt that she was performing. She stood in an auditorium and began to play her guitar. There were rows of empty seats, which was unusual. There was another person on stage. She could only make out a silhouette of a tall man, his head slightly bowed. After she finished her last note , he applauded and turned around to face her. She woke up quickly.

She heard the sound of laughter coming from her roommate's room, along with a distinctive male’s voice and the loud sound of the radio. It sounded like the owner of that five-star restaurant. “What’s his face?” Maya covered up her ears with her pillow as the laughter got louder and louder. “They must be stinking drunk.” She got up and grabbed her guitar. She began strumming to block out any noise she heard. Shiho’s voice giggling seemed to be getting louder. “Can she even be discrete and keep it to a minimum? Look what time it is?” She wished that Shiho had gone to his house instead. She laid her guitar down.

“Maybe I’m being unreasonable.”

This was Shiho’s apartment as much as it was hers. What she did here and in her room was her business. If the situation was turned around, it wouldn’t have bothered Shiho. Not like the shoes would ever be on the other foot. Maya was not here to chase after men or any form of “indulgence” (as Naiko calls it) with the opposite s*x. Medical school and her music were her full focus and no man was going to grab her attention.

Awaiting a call back was more frustrating than chemistry. To ease her tension, she spent her time writing and arranging songs. Her consolation was also playing her guitar on top of the roof for Shiho and Naoko. Sometimes Mrs. Wilsworth and her cats would accompany them and the nine children that belonged to the plumbers.

Today the rain was pouring heavily. Maya watched through the living room window at the droplets that made streaks on the pane. She looked back at Shiho and Naoko, who were playing a game of cards at the table. By now, Naoko had become a regular, sometimes, sleeping on the couch or in Maya’s room. She was such a horrible sleeper that Maya would have no choice but to give up her bed, in order to find peace in the living room. Not to mention the late night calls she had with the two men she was juggling. She was even comfortable enough bringing them over. Not at the same time, of course. When Maya came home from school, she would hear the voice of a man coming from the powder room. It was obvious he wasn’t there to release himself and she assumed that he was being entertained by Naoko. When the door opened, his face would be covered entirely with red lipstick.

The downpour had come to a stop as the sun beamed through the clouds. Just then, Maya’s phone vibrated. Unenthusiastically, she looked back. She decided it was much more thrilling to watch the droplets fall on the window pain.

“Don’t bother, probably a telemarketer.”

Shiho picked up the phone and answered.

“Hello. No, this is not Maya. May I ask who’s calling?”

She lowered the phone from her ears and in a whispering voice

spoke.

“It’s a call back.”

Maya jumped from her seat and nervously took the phone. “This is Maya speaking. Yes, Yes. I can...Uh huh.”

She smiled and gave them a thumbs up.

“Saturday? Yes, I can make it! An audition? Yes. Thank you. Thank

you.” She kept bowing as though the person was in front of her. “Thank you, thank you.”

She hung up and the girls screamed loudly, jumping up and down. How exciting! Her first real audition: tomorrow!

Saturday finally came after a long night of excitement. Crashed out on the living room floor with their blankets, they had spent the night talking, mainly about men and what was going on in the fascinating world of the rich and fabulous. Maya spent time listening and daydreaming about the next day. Luckily for her, the audition was set for the late afternoon, giving her enough time to rest and tone her voice.

The agency was both a modeling and a talent agency. They had given Maya a call back after screening many other girls. Her exotic appearance gave interest to the owner, Miss Adachi, who was putting together a female idol group. She had done well with her male group “Telling” and hip-hop idol group “BS”. She was amazed that Maya spoke Japanese fluently and could sing both alto and sopranos. She liked the added touch of her long black hair with the hint of purple highlights at the tip. Miss Adachi’s secretary told Maya that there were other girls auditioning to be a part of this group.

“Fighting.” She said before she hung up.

Maya had made it twenty minutes early to the audition, along with one other person. She found a small room and began to warm up her vocals. The secretary called her back into the waiting area, when the other contestants began to arrive. She gave her the number two sticker, which Maya spread over her tee shirt. By her surprise, there were ten other girls auditioning for the same lead role. She wished she had tried out for the role of 2nd vocalist or dancer instead.

Miss Adachi had gathered the contestants together, and announced that an idol group would also help with the judging. The girls were overly excited, talking amongst themselves about such good news. Maya sat quietly in a corner, clearing her thoughts. She touched her mother’s golden rosary that she wore around her neck for good luck. She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer.

Numbers from 1 to 12, each coinciding with the one worn by the contestants, were placed in a bag for the secretary to draw. Maya was the fourth to be called. An attendant for the agency ushered her to a closed room. He wished her good luck and walked back

into the waiting area where the others waited for their turn anxiously.

She took a deep breath as her sweaty palms opened the door. Nervously she walked into the brightly lit room. Miss. Adachi, a short man who sat next to her, and five other people were waiting. She smiled at Maya and then whispered to the others of her anticipation. She was sure this girl would leave a lasting impression on the judges. Her voice was both angelic and soulful, with a touch of raspiness you can only find in eighties female classic rock singers, like Blondie, Pat Benetar, Cyndi Loper or even Berlin. Not to mention her style of fashion, which was strikingly similar. Even though most other contestants had that typical KPop idol girly look, she completely stood out with her own sense of style. You can term it Classic rock, eighties meets Bollywood.

She stood in front of them with her head down, as she once again gathered her thoughts. She looked up to face her audience. Her voice was ready. As she opened her mouth to belt out the notes to “Ave Maria”, her voice froze. Gazing back at her was the man from her dream. The red-headed figure with those intense silver eyes.