Practice Makes Perfect
953 Words
If only life had a button for success…
Maybe Denise would have pressed it a long time ago but reality wasn’t that kind. Reality was harsh and right now? She was alone, struggling and fighting to become something more.
Denise stared at the script in her hands and sighed for what felt like the hundredth time.
“This won’t be easy…” she murmured.
Diamond Studios was producing a movie with only newcomers and that alone was enough to make her nervous because she knew… not all “newcomers” were truly new.
Some had connections.
Some had money.
Some had influence.
And those people? They had a direct ticket to success.
Denise swallowed. And then there was her: no connections, no support, not even someone to rehearse with.
She tightened her grip on the script.
“Still…” she whispered, “I have to try.”
She had heard stories about Diamond Studios. Rumors, mostly but they all said the same thing, it was one of the few places left in the industry that still valued talent and not background, not connections nor power.
If you weren’t good enough, you wouldn’t make it. Simple.
The CEO himself had once been an actor. Someone who rose from nothing. Someone who knew what it meant to fight in a world that constantly tried to crush you and because of that… he built something different, a place where bullying wasn’t tolerated, where scheming could get you kicked out instantly, where influence meant nothing.
Only talent mattered.
Denise exhaled slowly.
“I need this to be true…” she whispered as if a prayer because if it wasn’t, then she didn’t stand a chance.
D.
That was what she decided to call herself. It was short, simple and safe. She flipped through the script again, her eyes scanning the lines she had already memorized.
Fifty characters and among them six leads and she wanted one of them.
The second female lead, Laura King. A thief who was clever, bold and dangerous.
Denise’s lips curved slightly.
“I can do that.”
Because in a way… She had already lived that life. She knew how to steal, bot for greed but for survival.
Food.
She had stolen food in that house just to stay alive and acting? She had done that too. Every single day.
Pretending to be weak.
Pretending to be foolish.
Pretending to be someone she wasn’t.
All just to survive.
“This role…” she whispered, “is basically me.”
The script was simple: Laura breaks into a rich man’s house to steal evidence for revenge and justice but she gets caught and instead of running, she talks, bluffs, manipulates while all while secretly warning her partners.
She would be a thief and a grifter at the same time.
Denise practiced.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Her voice, her expressions, her emotions. Every line mattered. Even without a partner. Even without feedback. She practiced until she could feel Laura’s fear…
Her anger…
Her desperation.
“Practice makes perfect,” she reminded herself and she needed to be perfect.
That night, she prayed something she rarely did.
“God…” she whispered softly, her fingers clasped together. “I don’t know if you’re listening… but please…”
She paused and her throat tightened.
“…just this once.” She didn’t ask for riches, she didn’t ask for comfort just… a chance.
The evening before the auditions, Denise went for her usual run. The path she used passed through a small park and it was always dark, quiet and dangerous and most people avoided it but Denise didn’t.
Back in that house… she had learned to fight: Karate, Taekwondo and Muay Thai all in secret.
She had needed it to survive and even now, she never stopped training because life was unpredictable and she refused to ever be helpless again.
She was halfway through her run when she froze.
She heard voices. Low and rough, coming from deeper inside the park.
Denise frowned.
Probably just some delinquents.
She started to move again, then… a scream. It was sharp and terrified and her heart dropped.
“That’s not normal…” she whispered.
Her instincts kicked in instantly.
She moved quietly, her steps light as she followed the sound.
Closer.
Closer.
Until she saw them: three men. They were big and dangerous standing around a girl. She was young, too young, barely fifteen, tied to a tree and he was half-dressed and shaking uncontrollably.
Denise’s chest tightened and rage flickered in her eyes.
“The boss said we finish the job after we’re done,” one of the men said coldly. “Why are you hesitating?”
Another spat on the ground.
“You want to go against him? He’ll kill us.”
Denise crouched behind a tree, her breath steady but her mind racing.
Her eyes locked onto the girl. Tears streamed down her face. Her mouth was gagged and her body trembled, not from cold but from fear. Pure, paralyzing fear.
Denise clenched her fists.
“Damn it…” she whispered.
She had auditions tomorrow and she couldn’t afford injuries. She couldn’t afford trouble. She knew that she should walk away. She should but her feet didn’t move because that girl… that girl reminded her of herself.
Ten years old, helpless, trapped, with no one coming to save her.
Denise’s eyes hardened.
“No,” she whispered.
Not this time and not again.
She scanned the area quickly, her mind already forming a plan.
Three men.
One girl.
Dark environment.
Limited visibility.
She could do this.
She had to do this because she refused, refused to let another girl suffer the way she once did.
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