Chapter 4: Audition for a Lost Life

My agent told me there was good news. The director liked me and wanted me to audition for another show. “It’s Caldwell Group funded too,” she said, “but the role’s pretty bold.” I took it—because I needed the money, and it was a shot with a great team. They stuck me in a corner near the exit, right by the drafty vent.

The waiting room smelled like burnt coffee and nerves. I wrapped my coat tighter, listening to the echo of heels and whispered gossip.

“Bunch of snobs,” my agent grumbled. People rushed in and out.

“I heard Harrison Caldwell’s here too.”

My hand paused, script halfway turned.

“Probably just visiting the other set, might drop by for auditions,” my agent said. “He’s picky, so do your best.”

“Autumn Caldwell’s on the other set?”

“Yeah.”

Honestly, I couldn’t picture Harrison ever letting his sister work in showbiz. He was so strict, even a hand-holding scene would’ve set him off. Maybe she was special—special enough to make him break his own rules. She always managed what I couldn’t. But it didn’t matter now. I flipped another page, focusing on the script.

The audition scene was the boldest in the show—the sister, planning to run away with her lover at night, gets caught by her brother. His anger pushes their already ambiguous relationship from a kiss to a dangerous, taboo edge.

“Jenna!” the stage manager called. It took me a second to realize they meant me. I closed the script and walked into the room.

The thing Harrison Caldwell would rather die than do, I was now supposed to do with someone else, right in front of him. I wondered what kind of face my cool, reserved brother would make.

I was the last to audition. The people inside were restless, itching to finish up. I was just a washed-up actress getting a pity audition—nobody thought I’d be picked. When I walked in, I saw Harrison right away. Even after all these years, his features were sharper, more striking than ever. His assistant leaned in, whispering something. He lazily flipped through the script, not even glancing at me.

“Let’s start,” the director said.

I slipped into character, stepping up to Grant, the actor opposite me.

“Where do you think you’re running off to with him?” Grant grabbed my wrist. “You think a new identity and a disguise means I can’t find you?”

I looked down, refusing to react to his anger. The quieter I got, the more frustrated he became. Grant flung me aside, a little too rough. My lower back smacked the flimsy metal bed frame, pain shooting up my spine. He came at me, hands shaking as he unbuttoned my shirt, cursing under his breath. The cold air hit my skin; he undid the buttons quickly. The room was packed, staff moving in and out. He buried his head, roughly nuzzling my neck, venting his emotions. I turned away, enduring it, and accidentally met Harrison’s cold, scrutinizing gaze—so unfamiliar it made it hard to breathe.

Grant yanked hard, and the broken edge of the bed jabbed my back, making my eyes water. I muttered, “Brother.”

“Cut!” Grant broke character. “Can you act or not? Why’d you speak? And your reaction was way too gentle. You should’ve been scared stiff, fighting back!”

The director tried to calm him, then turned to me. “Why’d you play it that way?”

I got up, tugging my shirt straight. “Because the sister understands her brother,” I explained. “The best way to calm him isn’t to fight, but to show weakness. Because he loves her—he can’t stand to see her hurt.”

The director glanced at Harrison. “Her take’s different from the others. What do you think?”

Harrison flipped through my profile. “She gets it,” he said in that voice I remembered. “Do you have a brother?”

I froze, staring into the eyes that had looked back at me so many times before.

“I...”

Before I could finish, a man in a suit burst in, heading straight for Harrison.

“Miss Caldwell was attacked with acid on set.”

The room erupted in chaos. Harrison’s laid-back air vanished; he shot to his feet and ran out, face tight. The audition ended right there.

As I left, my agent grabbed my elbow, eyes wide. “Why do you look so pale?”

“I’m fine.”

“Fine? You’re bleeding!” She gasped, looking at my lower back.

I reached back, fingers coming away bloody.

“Is that old injury acting up again? Last time, the director wanted a stunt double but you insisted. Now the role’s gone to Autumn, and you’ve hurt yourself for nothing.”

Someone bumped my shoulder as people rushed after Harrison. I watched his frantic back and remembered what I’d said earlier: “Because he loves her—he can’t stand to see her hurt.” Turns out, he really could fall for his sister. Just not me.

At the hospital, my agent was outside, frowning into her phone. I knew what that meant: another failed audition. I picked up my meds and headed out. Through everything, she’d never given up on me. She always said I was the boldest actress she’d ever seen, and believed my luck would turn. But this time, she looked utterly defeated.

The hospital air was sharp with antiseptic. I could hear a TV blaring somewhere, someone calling for a nurse, the steady beep of a heart monitor. My agent’s voice, usually so brisk, was low and tired.

“Did you tick off Autumn Caldwell?” she asked.

My name was trending, but for all the wrong reasons. Gossip accounts claimed Autumn was attacked because a washed-up actress, desperate for a role, incited fans to retaliate. My comment section was a mess, hate flooding in. Even the reasonable voices were drowned out by a wave of fake dirt. In just a few hours, I’d gone from has-been to scandal fodder.

“How could I do something like that over a role? That’s a crime! Am I crazy?”

“They didn’t name you, but every detail points to you. Suing would take too long,” my agent said. “Fastest way is to ask Autumn to clear your name.”

Would she help me? I clutched the fruit basket my agent gave me, not sure what to expect.