Greener Pastures III

Patricia checked her face again on the bathroom mirror, and reapplied her lipstick. She was fidgeting because she had nothing but time on her hands. For the audition she was at, there were almost always the same aspiring actresses, as well as plenty of new comers. The adage that: “there will always be someone prettier, smarter, thinner, and richer,” was evidently pronounced in the entertainment industry. While she made small talk with the other aspiring actresses (vying for the same role), there was that underlying antagonism and evaluation of each other’s looks.
Patricia had run into some of them in the elevator of the same cosmetic surgeon in Beverly Hills. It was de rigeur maintenance program, part of the job to appear as young and beautiful as possible. If someone ever discovered a formula to retain youth by drinking young blood, there would be a lot of vampires in Hollywood.

While she brushed her hair, a beautiful girl emerged from the bathroom stalls. She was about 22 years old, and she looked like a living and breathing doll; she was almost angelic. She smiled sweetly to Patricia and said hello. Patricia said hello as well and they walked back together to the audition.
While waiting to be called in, they establish a light rapport. This girl was genuinely sweet and naïve. With excitement, she told her of her boyfriend who had promised to help her become a star. He was a movie producer, and he was planning to put her in some of his films, he’d promised.

When the audition was over for Patricia, she coincidently met again the stunning girl she had been talking to, at the entrance of the building. She had gone in just before her, and she waved goodbye to Patricia as she entered a black car waiting for her outside.

Patricia felt a moment of déjà vu. She was the same age as this girl when she had dated this same producer ten years ago. That is, until he dumped her for a new play toy, as there were always aspiring actresses eager to believe in his promises. She wondered if he was still married, and felt sad for that naïve girl, as well as for her own naiveté.

To clear her mind she took a brisk walk and ended in the corner of Hollywood Blvd. and Highland. She stopped on the red light while pondering which way to go. On her left were the Kodak Theatre, home of the Oscar ceremonies, and the Hollywood Hills. Under her feet, were the stars on Hollywood Blvd. On her right all the way down to Vermont Blvd., was her waitress job waiting for her, as well as a few other options.

There was the guy who hinted to be her benefactor, while he was obviously married by the ring on his left hand. There was Jay who was not a bad guy after all. There was the bill board ad she had seen on her walk here for vocational nurse training, or paralegal training.

Patricia stood at that intersection for a long time undecided which way to walk.