Alice in La La Land (23 page)

'I was going to offer you my old T-shirt,' he said.

'You couldn't!' she cried, 'it's too special for my snot!'

Nick laughed. 'You're an eejut, Alice-girl,' he said affectionately, closing his computer. 'I can tell you feel miserable. I'm going out for some cold and flu medicine for you,' he added, standing up and stretching his legs.

'But . . .' protested Alice.

'Uh uh uh,' he scolded, waving a finger to silence her in an imitation of ghetto-fabulousness. 'Now, have your silly balloon girl dialogue learned for when I get back so we can get it out of the way and focus on telly and pizza instead.'

He picked up his car keys and wallet and tucked in his shirt.

'What about this glamorous dinner out we keep promising each other?' Alice asked, face down in his hanky.

'Do you really feel up to that?'

'No,' she admitted in a small voice.

'Well, then.' He turned to leave, bumping his head on the light-fitting. 'Ow! That thing's lethal.'

'Do you know where you're going?' Alice asked with concern. 'They don't call them pharmacies here, you know, they're called . . .'

'Drugstores, I know. There's one just down a few blocks called Sav-On. Bloody huge.' He winked and closed the door behind him.

Alice blew her nose and pulled the well-thumbed
Lithium
script from her bag. Nick's dirty T-shirt lay beside her on the bed and Alice lifted it to her face. It was old, decaying almost, and filled with tiny holes. Alice wondered why he held onto it, and poked her finger through one of the openings on the hem. She brought it up to her nose but her head-cold made it impossible to smell anything. She laid it down again and smoothed it out on the denim bedspread. The faded words on the front said something about a Jesus and Mary Chain tour of Ireland. She couldn't make out the dates as the numbers had completely faded with time. She wondered whether Banana Crucifix had been the support act. Maybe he missed music more than he was willing to let on.

She turned the script pages to Colleen's scenes. It wasn't so much a great character role as a slightly larger cameo, and Alice wondered how Conrad planned to get her extra money for a part of this size. Oh well, you've got to start somewhere, she considered. She focused on the work and had all her lines learned in around fifteen minutes.

Alice checked her watch. There was still no sign of Nick. She had a short-lived compulsion to test her erring sense of smell on his other shirts but stopped herself. How would it look if he arrived back from the chemist to discover her nose in his dirty laundry? Alice turned back to scene fifty-five.

It was set in an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting that both Maisie and Colleen were attending. Maisie had a full-page speech, a monologue of power and depth, about her struggle with addiction and her messed-up childhood, while Colleen said virtually nothing, save to ask how Maisie wanted her instant coffee before the meeting was called to order, and to chant the serenity prayer with the entire cast.

'Fuck it,' said Alice, and began to commit Maisie's speech to memory. Just for the hell of it.

Nick arrived half an hour later with a variety of flu medicine, a tall bunch of orange lilies and a bottle of red wine. 'Also medicinal,' he said, putting the bottle down on the table.

'Oh, Nick, they're gorgeous!' she exclaimed, standing up and taking the flowers from him. She could feel tears welling in her eyes and quickly concealed them by fussing over the waxy green foliage. How long had it been since somebody gave her flowers? Alice shook her head and sniffed, trying to attribute her watery eyes to her cold. 'Beautiful,' she said quickly. 'Ta.'

She looked around for something to put them in. 'Aha!' she said, spying an almost empty Evian bottle. 'I'll just cut the top off this. Perfect! Now, if only they hadn't confiscated my Stanley knife.'

Nick handed her his and poured the contents of a paper bag onto the bed. She wanted to hug him. 'My goodness, are we starting our own drugstore?' she asked in amazement, sawing at the top of the Evian bottle.

'Can you believe the variety of shit they have here?' he said, lining up the products. 'Anyway, look, I got you drowsy, non-drowsy, herbal, full-strength. Take your pick. I would gargle with this first, though.' He picked out a small brown bottle. 'According to the young lady at the store, it's the best remedy for sore throats.'

'Great,' she replied, removing the jagged plastic top from her makeshift vase, and placing the flowers inside it. She looked around for somewhere to display them, finally deciding on the bedside table. She took a small step back to admire them.

'Pass it over,' she asked, gratefully reaching for the medicine. She squeezed past Nick to the tiny bathroom and read the label on the bottle. 'I just need to make sure it doesn't have ginkgo or guarana in it, and I'll be fine.' She poured the brown liquid into the measuring cup provided, tipped back her head and began to gargle while Nick flicked through the screenplay.

'Do they really have John Malkovich for this?' he asked, sounding impressed. Alice leaned over the sink and spat out brown liquid.

'Apparently so,' she replied, wiping her mouth with a face-washer. 'Amazing, isn't it?' She returned to the bed and sat cross-legged, opposite him. 'Let's get this over with so we can order a pizza with jalapeno chillies and drink some of that wine,' she said, determined to ignore the fact that she felt seriously under-par.

Nick looked thoughtfully at her now lopsided ponytail.

'You're cute, Alice,' he said finally, and reached forward to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen across her face.

Alice looked fixedly at the bedspread. 'Thanks, Nick.'

'What page?' he asked, and reached forward to tweak her left foot. Alice squeaked. She flicked to scene forty-three. 'Right, in this scene you're an irate customer in the balloon shop,' she said. 'Okay?'

'Okay,' he said cautiously. 'But you don't need me to
act
now, do you?' He held the script gingerly and looked at her with concern.

'God, no! Just read all the lines that aren't Colleen. That's all. See how I've highlighted mine with fluoro texta?' Alice smiled at him. 'Thanks for doing this, Nick. You're a good bloke, you know that?'

'Ya, sure, that's what they keep telling me,' he shrugged. 'Okay, let's see now.' He assumed a slightly high-pitched voice. 'The balloons you delivered were brown! Is there any occasion that befits the delivery of one hundred brown balloons? We said
berry
balloons. Berry. Not brown.'

'I'm sorry, sir, brown balloons are very in-vogue at the moment. Was the recipient displeased?' said Alice as Colleen.

'Well, considering he's just had a bowel operation, it was most inappropriate.' Nick stopped and laughed. 'This is mental!' he said, shaking his head.

'It's out there, alright,' Alice sighed. 'From the top again?'

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Re: Lithium

Prepare scenes 43 and 55. Colleen's role may expand in
a third draft. You're looking good for this one, Alice. It's
practically in the bag. Good luck. Audition at 10 am,
Zippy Goldman Casting, North Beverly Boulevard.

(Address and Yahoo map attached.)

Love Rebekah

At 8.30 am, Alice was woken by Spanish chatter and the clunk of a housekeeping cart. She felt disoriented. Checking under the covers, she realised she must have fallen asleep fully clothed under the influence of red wine and a powerful drowsy decongestant. The airconditioning had exacerbated her cold symptoms and she was finding it difficult to breathe.

Alice crept into the tiny bathroom – cheerfully decorated with tiles the colour of egg yolks – and tried to loosen the phlegm in her nasal passages. She ran the taps for the sake of decorum.

'Its okay, Alice, I'm awake. Just go ahead and blow your nose or whatever,' Nick called from the bed. 'Sure, you've been snoring all night.'

Alice stuck her head out of the bathroom door. 'Oh, ride-oh,' she sniffed. 'In fact, I'll get the shower rudding. Steam does wudders, you dow.' She turned back to the mirror. Her hair was a mass of fluff and her nose was red.

'Maybe Colleen could have lesbian flu or something,' Nick suggested, sleepily.

Alice blew her nose on some toilet paper. 'Well, everyone knows that lesbians get the worst head-colds.' Alice stared at herself reproachfully in the mirror. She felt ridiculous having packed her pyjamas only to have passed out just after the pizza arrived. What must Nick think of
her? Her lips were cracked. She had a sizeable makeup challenge ahead.

'Honestly, it's fine,' she said, talking fast to cover her insecurity. 'I've been on stage with flu before. You just need a smear of Vicks Vapor Rub up your nose and off you go. Clears the sinuses for hours.'

'Sadly, I don't think they stocked that particular Australian tonic at the drugstore,' Nick called back, ferreting through the impressive pile of flu medicine on the bedside table.

'I never travel without it,' Alice replied, procuring it from her makeup bag and waving the small green jar triumphantly. She figured she would carry on as though everything was normal. Well, as normal as it could be, considering she was ill, in Hollywood, in an Irishman's hotel room, and about to audition for her ex-boyfriend. 'Now, don't mind me, I'm going to do a vocal warm-up in the shower.'

'Sure, whatever, you know, floats yer boat, girl. I'm going to step out and rustle us up some breakfast.' He sounded relaxed, as though he were taking everything in his stride. 'You can't audition for a miserly little creep on an empty stomach now, can you?' Nick stepped over the detritus from the night before and opened the door. 'Back soon.'

Alice got the shower running and started steaming her vocal chords. She focused on the audition ahead, feeling her adrenalin kick in as she did so. She attempted a humming exercise to clear the debris in her throat and settle her nerves. The thought of facing Conrad in an audition situation with a whole lot of Hollywood heavyweights had her tingling – and not in a good way. It felt as though needles and safety pins had lodged in her
nerve-endings. Even her bladder felt funny. Alice focused hard on humming away these unpleasant sensations. By the time Nick returned with breakfast and a copy of
Variety
she was unblocked, dressed and made up, determined to put her best foot forward.

'Well, you certainly scrub up, Alice Evans,' Nick commented, opening the brown paper bag that contained their breakfast. He spread cream cheese on a bagel. 'Coffee?' he offered, gesturing towards a tall white paper cup he had set down on the table beside the door. 'Sorry, I do know pancakes are your favourite but I couldn't remember where the best ones came from. I had a feeling you'd baulk at the McDonald's variety.'

'You got that right,' she nodded. 'This is great, Nick, thank you.'

Alice picked up
Variety
and stared at the front page. There was a large feature article about Angelina Jolie, who was pictured smiling beatifically down the camera lens, presumably after receiving tremendous news. She set the paper down and crossed to the small table by the door, removed the lid from the white container and absentmindedly poured the contents of a sugar sachet into her coffee.

'You okay, Alice?' asked Nick.

Alice paused. 'A bit nervous, I guess . . .' She could feel herself flushing with colour. She swallowed. 'Nick,' she said stirring her sugar, deciding there wasn't enough, and opening another sachet, 'I don't actually remember falling asleep. Did you, um . . .?' she stopped stirring and turned to him with the coffee in her hand.

'Sure, I tucked you in and all, Alice,' he said lightly. 'Why?'

'I'm sorry, Nick. It wasn't the most romantic evening after all, what with the head-cold and the line-learning and the . . .'

'Don't worry,' he soothed. 'Plenty of time to celebrate after the audition, right?' He didn't seem put out, thought Alice, but she found it hard to read his tone.

'Sorry,' she said again.

'It's fine, Alice.'

'Right.' She grinned and checked her watch. 'Ninefifteen. Time for one more line-run before I go off and nail this thing?' She crossed over to the breakfast he had laid out on the bed.

'Sure. I'm thinking of auditioning for angry balloon shop client myself.' A dollop of cream cheese had caught in his stubble.

'You'd be perfect,' Alice replied, leaning forward and gently wiping it off with a paper napkin. 'The way you pitch it vocally is excellent.'

'Huh?' Nick looked sceptical.

'God, these bagels are awesome,' said Alice, swooning over a moist, chewy mouthful.

Zippy Goldman's office was on the third floor of a coffee-coloured art deco building in a pleasant section of Beverly Boulevard. Alice had miraculously nabbed a parking spot right out front, filled the meters on all sides for good measure, and now sat by a flourishing potted palm in the soothing interior of the waiting room. The walls were the precise shade of clotted cream and made Alice hungry for her mother's scones. It was 9.55 am.

Conrad had been good to his word in promising her the first audition time. Her Vicks Vapor Rub lay nestled in the pocket of her satchel for decongestion emergencies. Content she was completely alone, Alice retrieved her compact from her makeup bag for final checks. She made sure she looked up her nose, and checked that all signs of redness had been concealed. Satisfied she looked clear-eyed and in good health, she placed the compact back in her bag and had a final look at the script.

She felt no need to revise Colleen's lines; she was confident she had them down pat. Instead, she turned once again to Maisie's monologue and began to make notes with a small pencil.

At 10.15, she was beginning to wonder whether she had come to the right place when a woman with a large nose and gold hair emerged from a room on Alice's left. She wore big gold earrings and jangled as she walked. If they were ever looking to cast someone in the role of the sun, Zippy would be perfect. As the door opened, Alice heard a number of men all talking at once. She sniffed violently to make sure her sinuses were clear and stood up in readiness to audition.