Mike tossed the issue of Variety on the small table beside him and looked at his watch. It was an old issue he'd read before, anyway. The casting agent seemed to have forgotten their appointment. He glanced at the bored receptionist, wondering what he should do next, when the door to the office opened.
"Mike..." A thin, middle-aged man glanced at the photo and resume in his hand, then looked up again. "Bine?"
"Bean. It-it's pronounced 'bean.'"
"Yeah, Biehn. Got it. Come in." The man quickly disappeared into his office. With a last glance at the receptionist, Mike followed him inside. The casting agent quickly closed the door behind him. "Sit down," he said, indicating a black, leather sofa in front of a wet bar built into the wall. He dropped the photo and resume on the huge wooden desk, plopped into a leather chair and leaned back.
"You wanna do a cold read or you gonna do a monologue?"
Mike shrugged. "Whatever you want."
The agent looked him carefully. "I just might take you up on that. Why don't you do a cold read, then?" He handed the young man a well-thumbed script. "This is the picture. Your agent tell you about it?"
Mike nodded as he flipped the pages. "He told me who's in it, the director, stuff like that."
"Good, good. I like an actor who comes prepared." Something about the way he said it made Mike flinch, but he shrugged it off. "So read. Start on that page and just read till I tell you to stop. The character is a psycho, a stalker, got it?"
Mike nodded. "I think so. May I--?"
"What? Oh, sure, sure. Look it over first. Take all the time you want. Then just jump in."
"Thanks." Mike glanced it over. A psycho. A psycho in love. A guy with big impossible dreams of getting a woman he could never have. Mike suppressed a sardonic smile. What was that like, he wondered, thinking about the busty blonde who'd just moved in down the hall from him. Then he focused again.
He nodded to the agent, then began to read. It felt good. It felt right. He kept his mind focused on the words in front of him and kept reading. He moved around the man's office, taking advantage of the space. This scene was loaded with sexual suggestions and Mike put everything he had into them. He had to be doing well - the man had yet to stop him. He'd been to auditions where he barely got to read a sentence, but this guy was letting him read the whole thing! As he neared the end of the scene, he began to wonder if he should just keep reading when finally the casting agent stopped him.
"Good job. Real nice. You did some nice stuff there." The agent paused, studying him. Mike waited, looking outwardly cool even as his heart was hammering in his chest. "You could be the one."
"Thank you," Mike said evenly.
"Take your shirt off. Let's see how you're built."
He hesitated a moment. His agent had said nothing about this.
"Kid, this is a visual business," the man added impatiently. "Now let's see."
Slowly, he pulled his shirttail out of his jeans and carefully unbuttoned his shirt. The soft, woven cotton slipped down one arm and was tossed onto the black leather couch behind him.
"Nice...nice," said the older man, nodding appreciatively. "Turn....Yeah, very nice..."
Mike closed his eyes, trying to ignore the leer in the man's voice. The casting agent stood and moved closer, till the young actor could feel the man's hot breath on his bare shoulders.
"How bad you want this role?"
"I don't really--"
"This role has nudity in it. It has sex. Can you do sex?"
He nodded, unable to find his voice, as a hand slid up his back.
"Show me," the older man said, sliding his hands over the smooth, muscular shoulders.
Mike turned his head, startled. "You-you want me to--?"
"I can do a lot for you," the man purred. "Introduce you to all the right names. Get you in all the right doors." He squeezed Mike's shoulder. "Can make you a big man in this town." His hand slid away and he moved behind the desk again. "But you gotta show me you can hack it."
Mike shook his head and started to turn to retrieve his shirt.
