Anya calls me the second I step into the penthouse.
“Natalie, I don’t care what distractions are swirling around you right now. Focus. Get through the audition, nail it, and: Land. That. Role. Anything less will be a disappointment, and I don’t tolerate disappointment.”
A disappointed Anya is a force of nature, one I’d rather not face. She hangs up without waiting for a response, leaving her expectations lingering in the air.
I exhale and toss my phone onto the couch. “No pressure,” I mutter to myself, because if I don’t land this role, the most disappointed person will be me.
The next day becomes a blur of films. I curl up on the couch, immersing myself in Ryan Haymitch’s work. Movie after movie, scene after scene, until my butt is sore and my eyes burn. I feel like a student crammi
