Hi, my name's Craig Jennings. I'm 22 years old. I'm a small time actor, have been for about a year now. I've had bit parts in a few films and television shows, and I've been known to do a bit of stunt doubling, nothing special, but it pays the bills. I come from Edinburgh in Scotland, though I'm rarely home anymore. I've got an agent, thanks to him I've still got money. Anyway, this is my story, it starts in 2001.
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I woke up with a start, my bed covers scattered, hanging off the bed. As I struggled to regain my alertness I realised that my phone was ringing. I checked the clock, 10:17am. YAWN!!! I stretched across my dresser and lifted the receiver, mumbling a small hello into the mouthpiece.
"Craig! It Phil." I perked up a bit, my agent calling is usually a good thing, means he's got work for me.
"Hey, hows it going?"
"Yea, ok. Listen, I've found some work for you. It's kinda two jobs in one, they want you to do some stunts, falling over things and the like, and your also needed to do a little acting. No audition, cos its only a small part."
"Cool, sounds good," I replied, "what's the gig?"
"It's a new show called 'Scrubs', hospital comedy, I've read the script, its good. You'll be on set for a week." He stopped talking and waited for my response.
"Ok, lets do it."
"Great, be at my office for 1 o'clock and I'll give you the contract to sign. I've just got to phone their people to let them know you'll take the job."
"Cool, see you then Phil." I placed the receiver back on its handle and lay back down on my bed. Excellent, more work, just what I needed. Time to get out of bed then, I guess. I walked over to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. My handsome features looked tired, and my reasonably long, dark hair was a mess. I stripped, stepped into the shower and turned on the water.
3 hours later, I was in my agents office, sipping a steaming mug of coffee. He was sitting at his desk opposite me, on the phone to someone. Phil Greenwood was a portly man, who seemed to be permanently sweating, his thin blonde hair was plastered to his head, and his forehead was shining with perspiration. He put the phone down, and placed some paper in front of me. He went through the basics of the contract, which I signed. He gave me my flight ticket to America and sent me on my way.
The next day I was on the red-eye flight to JFK airport in New York. The in flight entertainment was as "good" as usual, as was the food. We were about an hour away from landing and I was sitting comfortably with my eyes closed and music humming into my ears through my headphones. I heard the PA go live over the music, with an unmistakable "ding-dong". Pressing the pause button on my MP3 player, I listened as the captain announced that we had started our descent into New York. I settled back in my seat and waited for us to land.
When I finally landed, went through passport control, and picked up my bag, I was met by a foreigner with a small sign reading "Jennings". I approached him.
"You Jennings?" I was asked in stuttered English, with a heavy accent. Groaning internally at the lack of conversation I would be having, I nodded and offered him my hand to shake, which he ignored. He turned and walked away from me, assuming I would follow. He led me outside the airport to a small car, and climbed into the drivers seat. I walked round to the passengers side and pulled on the handle, stumbling backwards as the door didn't open. My driver made no attempt to unlock the door, so I hopped into the back seat, irritation written across my features.
The drive to NBC studios HQ was no less eventful. I was thrown about the back of the car by my chauffeurs "driving". That was me with my seatbelt on. I held onto my suitcase for dear life, whilst I was tossed from side to side as he took tight corners at 70 miles per hour.
When we finally arrived at the studios, in one piece, I let out a huge sigh of relief. I exited the car, glad to be back on my own two feet. My driver simply floored the accelerator and turned in the middle of the road, causing another car to slam on its breaks, screech its tyres against the road and bark its horn in annoyance. I watched as he tore down the street, before I turned to the building in front of me. The many stories of the glass building stretched up towards the clouds and the large NBC sign at the top looked over the city. I walked forward through the revolving glass doors and over the cold marbled floor towards the reception desk. One of the pretty girls behind the desk flashed me an over-used smile and beckoned me over, greeting me in a typically faked sing-song voice.
"Hi there sir, are we expecting you today?" I smiled back at her and gave her my name. Her manicured nails tapped on the keyboard as she typed in my name.
"Craig Jennings, yes, that's fine. If you'd just like to wait over there and someone will be down to see you shortly." She signalled over to an area with a few chairs. "Can I get you anything in the meantime?" She asked.
"Yea, you could get me a coffee if your offering, or we could wait till you finish and I could get you a drink?" I said with a wink. She waved my comment off.
"Coffee it is then." She stood up and walked away from her desk. I grinned to myself, picked up my suitcase and went to sit in the waiting area.
I sat for about five minutes, sipping my coffee, the mid morning sun streaming through the windows. Behind me a male voice called,
"Craig Jennings?" I looked round at the suited man who had called out my name. I stood up and walked over to him, shaking his hand when I reached him.
"Grant Hudson." He led me to a lift and we ascended to the 18th floor. When we exited the lift, I was faced by a long corridor with countless rooms lining either side of it. Grant walked purposefully down the corridor and entered one of the rooms on the left. I followed him in and sat in the seat he offered me. He sat down on the other side of his desk, and began searching through a filing cabinet.
"Jennings...Jennings...ah here we are. Scrubs right?" I nodded in conformation "Ok, here is the hotel booking details; you'll be staying right next to the set. You've to head over there later, before they finish for the day, so you can meet some of the cast before you start tomorrow. There will be a driver waiting for you downstairs in ten minutes to take you to the hotel. At 3 o'clock you're expected at Sacred Heart Hospital. Have a good stay." With that I was dismissed.
I made my way back down stairs and waited for my lift to appear. When it did, I was relieved that it was a different driver than last time. This driver was much better.
I arrived at the hotel safely, thanked my driver and walked up to the hotel. It was a classy looking place. A subtle mixture of chrome and brick. I entered the well lit reception area and approached the desk.
I checked in quickly and took the lift to my room, which wasn't great, but had a cosy, homely feel to it. The bed was comfy, the walls warmly decorated, with a small fridge filled with a few drinks. It was 1 o'clock, so I still had time before I had to be at the set. So I unpacked and showered, enjoying the warm water washing over my body.
