“Okay darling, just one more picture and we’re set. Perfect!” the photographer smiled broadly at his model, a young girl of about 20 with blonde hair and the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. She let out a girlish giggle.
She was a relatively unknown actress, posing for the cover-story of a famous magazine.
“Tracy! The journalist is waiting for you. Better hurry!” her agent called after her.
“Tell ‘im ta’ keep waitin’! I don’t do any rocket travel!” she yelled back.
“He’s already been there for at least an hour. Tell you what, I’ll take you there and bring you one of those milkshakes you love.”
Tracy suddenly looked excited. “Oh, the pink one? Strawberry flavoured! Yum!”. Her agent let out an inaudible sigh. “But you better remind that lady to put chocolate sprinkles on it. Lat time she forgot an’ it was no good.” Tracy reminded her.
“Sure thing. You just go do that interview and I’ll come by soon enough with your milkshake.” Her agent forced a smile. Tracy could behave like such a child at times. A spoiled child. Especially when she spoke too loudly, or let out that high-pitched laugh of hers or refused things just because they weren’t joyful enough. But she could be as tricky to handle as the devil and even Melanie, as her agent, still asked herself questions sometimes, wondering if maybe some of the magazine-cover-Tracy she had to work with daily could be just an act. But people seemed to love her nonetheless, hence the interview she had to do just now.
“Tracy! Wonderful to see you!” said a tall man, of about 30, with a ‘PRESS’ insignia clipped to his shirt pocket.
“It’s nice ta’ meet you too.” Tracy giggled as they shook hands.
“So let’s sit down and I’ll turn on the recorder and we can start our interview.” He looked at Tracy waiting for a word of approval.
She smiled broadly. “Great!”
He pressed a button and the tape started rolling. “I’m Jason Evans and I’m sitting with Tracy Flemming. Say, Tracy, do you have a middle name?”
“Yeah, but I don’t really like it. It’s Marlene. I think Tracy sounds loads better.” Again, she giggled.
“Good to know. So what do you think about your acting career? Where do you see yourself going?”
“Well, it’s hard to say. It’s a tough business, ‘ya know. People to deal with every day. I don’t know what I’d ever do without ma’ wonderful agent. She does all the nasty stuff, like negotiating contracts. I hate that stuff, ‘cause it’s way boring.”
“Mhmm… And what do you like to do for fun? To relax?”
“Well, I don’t really know what to say. I like movies. Comedies, but not French ones, those are totally annoying.”
“I see you like milkshakes.”
“Haha… yea, I love them.”
“What about books? Or music? What do you listen to?”
“I don’t read much. Books are boring. Mostly I read magazines and I listen to whatever’s on MTV.”
“Okay, so now, let’s talk about fashion…”
And the interview went on and on for about an hour.
~~~
“Wait! Walter never told me you’ve worked in the anti-terrorism department!” said a man with an inspector badge on his coat.
“Well, who are you going to believe now? This is probably not the first or the last thing Walter gave you a false impression about. He seems to make a habit out of misleading people.”
“And all this time I thought you were just a silly newly-appointed detective. How did you manage to get everyone fooled?”
“Whatever people say I am, that’s what I’m not.” said a woman in her twenties with jet-black hair and the most stunning green eyes. “Case closed.” she said as she turned around and walked away.
“Aaand cut!” a voice said from behind the cameras. “Great job everyone! This is our last take for today. Go home, don’t drink too much coffee and don’t cause too many traffic accidents because I need you all here tomorrow morning at 7:30 for the bookstore scene. Goodnight!”
People were walking around the scene mumbling about the horrible hours they had to endure as the cameramen and sound engineers turned off their equipment.
“Where’s Tracy?” a woman called from the wardrobe. “She forgot to give me back the wig.”
“Eh, don’t worry Helen, she’ll bring it back tomorrow.” another woman answered.
Meanwhile Tracy was in her car, driving north to her temporary home: a small, but welcoming house on the East Coast, with the Atlantic as a back yard.
As soon as the door closed behind her she felt the day’s stress catch up to her. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and was slightly surprised to see that she had forgotten to take off her wig. She studied her hair for a moment, thinking about dyeing her blonde hair which she never thought suited her, a nice shade of copper-red. Maybe next month…
Taking off her shoes she slouched in a cosy armchair and picked up a history book. Opening it at the marked page she began to read.
Suddenly someone jumped in front of her, snatching the book out of her hands.
“Julia! Give me my book back! I had a tough day and you know I hate it when you brutally interrupt me while I’m reading!”
“Awww, Marlene, can’t your favourite sister try to grab your attention once in a while?” said Julia who was about the same height as Marlene and had the same hair, but aside from that they were completely different.
“You’re my only sister, Julia. And don’t make that face. Now give me back my book.” Marlene demanded seriously.
“Uh, fine. Want some tea?”
“Sounds wonderful. Thank you.”
“I saw that interview you did for the magazine.” Julia said as she poured hot water in a cup. “Jeez, sis’, your name is about the only thing I recognized in that article.”
Marlene said nothing but smiled smugly.
“And Brian called.” Julia added.
Marlene looked lost for a moment.
“Brian… computer-guy Brian.” her sister tried to explain.
A look of comprehension changed Marlene’s complexion. “And?”
“He wanted to know if you’re done beta-testing his programme.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll post a note on the fridge to remind me to call him tomorrow.” After taking a sip of her tea she said “You know, I was thinking about dyeing my hair red. Think it would suit me?”
Julia smirked “How could red not be fit for the Devil herself?”
