The Understudy

Author's Note: This is the second story that was commissioned from me. I really appreciate all the work that I have been getting; it makes me feel like a real, professional author, which has always been my dream. Thank you so much for believing in me and for your continued support!

Don't forget to rate and comment, as I answer almost every comment I receive.

As always, Enjoy:

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I press the buzzer on the front gate, glancing around again. The sun is high and bright in the sky, but the shade from the rows of palm trees supplies a welcome relief from the sweltering heat. The humidity is low today, thankfully, so as long as I stay out of direct sunlight, I should be as fresh as ever for my upcoming audition... or is it an interview? The email I received wasn't incredibly detailed, but it told me more than enough to get me to show up.

It came from Marcus Deluna, and that's all I needed to know! That man has the metaphorical Midas touch! I know that anything that I do for him will be big... I'll get rich, I'll pay off all of the debt that I've built up while living here in Cali, and my parents back in their little podunk town just outside of Columbus will see that I made the right decision about moving out here.

I can feel visions of fame and fortune running wild in my head. I try to curb the urge slightly, but I can't bring myself to stop. I stifle an excited giggle. I can see a movie poster within my mind; without even trying, the image materializes automatically.

Melody Collins... in this year's biggest block-buster hit

! I'm standing fierce and defiant in the center of the portrait, with my long, fiery red hair flowing in the wind, and my dazzling blue eyes gazing outward for all of my adoring fans to see! Oh! I can't

WAIT!

At 25, success hasn't come as fast as I would have liked or expected... but you can't have everything in life. Now though, I feel like everything is coming together just like I've always planned. This is a dream come true! When I moved out here 7 years ago, with my parents' disapproving words still ringing in my ears, I thought that my success was going to be immediate and awe-inspiring. Afterall, I was,

without a single doubt

the best actress in any of the drama classes I took throughout high school and my first year in junior college.

But it turns out that being the best actress from a small town in Ohio isn't particularly difficult, and there are a million women out here with talent that rivals my own. I am beautiful, even now, and while saying that may be considered vanity... they say that it's only bragging if it isn't true.

Yes, I owe the success that I have had, meager though it may be, to my natural beauty, my work ethic, and my honed talent. It has only garnered me a handful of small roles in commercials and TV shows, but I can look back on all those jobs with pride. Why? Because I absolutely owned every single part I played, regardless of how small.

So, to what do I owe my

lack

of success? Or lack of greater success one might say? In a word, I'm not a slut. There were quite a few jobs that I passed up, because I wasn't willing to put myself out there for the director or the producer, and that hasn't made me popular with many of Hollywood's most prominent misogynists. Lots of women are willing to bend over backwards... or more accurately, bend over

forwards to grab their ankles...

just to secure a role. But I've never even considered it.

Obviously, it is never as cut and dried as that. No director ever says,

"Suck my dick, and you'll get the part."

That doesn't happen in Hollywood... at least not anymore. What does happen however, is that they will make subtle, seemingly innocent requests, hoping that you'll give in. They offer to take you to dinner or whatever, so that they can "Get to know you better."

Later that night, they'll try to sleep with you, and if you give in, then you get the part. But if you refuse them, then you're thrown out on your ass. I've seen it too many times to count, and it has happened to girls with plenty of talent... but more talent than sense.

That scenario has never occurred to me, though. Why? Because I've never let it get to that point. I've turned down social invitations from directors and producers, and I suppose I've garnered a reputation as an uncooperative bitch in that regard. I don't see how anyone can blame me, though. I keep work at work... my job is acting, but that doesn't change anything. If they want to hire me, they're going to have to do it because of my talent, not because of my cock-sucking skills.

Not to mention, a large portion of the time, I was dating someone when I got requests for dinner. I was never going to fuck some old-ass man for a role, but I

damn sure

wasn't going to do it while I was in a steady, monogamous relationship! Not that most of these Hollywood perverts would care. Half of them are married already, but they're still looking for a new piece of ass to score with. It's disgusting.

That said, as I sit now, a single, professional actress, 5 years from thirty, with no major roles to speak of... my pride was beginning to seem more and more like a vestigial portion of myself that I wouldn't be able to afford to maintain. My bills have been stacking up for a while now, and I've gotten to the point that I never answer unknown numbers... I feel like I get more calls from collectors than anyone else. I don't want to take the blame for that fact, but it's probably only fair if I do.

But all of that ends today. Working with Marcus will change my entire life's trajectory, and I'll be a world famous actress in no time at all. I've always said that I have all the potential to really shine, I just need to get out there and get

seen

! This is my one chance to make that happen.

In spite of my stellar work ethic, my beauty, and my talent, I can't pretend I've behaved perfectly out here. I've allowed my eye for expensive luxuries to take up a greater portion of my budget than I should have. Partying and drinking at night isn't cheap either, and while plenty of guys would love to buy all my drinks for me, that avenue often has... another, different price tag. I'm not totally against hooking up with guys, but I'm

not

a whore!

To be fair though, it isn't just the nightlife that takes a toll on my bank account. It's so easy to get in debt when you keep trying to look good in order to secure roles! Nobody wants to hire a penniless-looking street urchin girl who shows up to an audition wearing a get-up that she found at the local thrift store! That's why I always wear stylish, designer clothes... price tag be damned.

Today is no exception, of course. The email didn't specify how I should dress, so I chose something that looked stylish and alluring, but also wouldn't be too hot on this sweltering day. The pink, floral sundress that I chose is pulled snuggly around my slender, petite waist. The garment's halter neck is not overly revealing, but it does accentuate the gentle curves of my pert breasts.

I'm wearing three-inch heels as well, which perfectly match the rest of my outfit. They aren't exactly the most practical shoes, but I know for a fact that they make my ass absolutely

pop

in this dress. I normally prefer to show up to auditions wearing comfortable clothes and shoes, but today I tried to balance that with making sure I have all of my assets on display.

This dress does all that and more. Unfortunately, such lovely daywear also comes with a steep price tag... and it isn't as if I'm rolling in money at the moment. That said, you've got to spend money to make money, and anyone who knows their designer styles will know that this dress is well worth its steep price tag. It's items of clothing like this, combined with my living expenses, that have stretched my budget to breaking. If I'm being honest with myself, I can just come out and say it... I'm staring down bankruptcy at this point. And that would be unthinkable! That would mean giving up on my dreams of being an actress forever and moving back to Ohio!

Fuck. No. I will never do something so humiliating.

That said, thanks to Marcus, I won't have to! He has already promised me a hefty bonus just for showing up, so there's no way he won't hire me. Nobody puts forward that kind of money without knowing that they've made their choice in advance.

I feel as if I've been waiting at this gate for the longest time, but it's probably only my imagination. Finally, after what seems like forever, I hear a voice coming through the intercom. It's a dry, male voice, and it sounds entirely disinterested.

"Are you Ms Melody? Melody Collins?" The voice inquires. "I assume you're here for the audition." The speaker has a proper English accent, and I immediately conjure up the image of a snooty butler, dressed in the traditional garb.

I look upward to see a security camera mounted high above. I smile into it and speak with all the passion and excitement that has been building ever since I first got the email. "That's me! I have an appointment at 1 o'clock! I was hoping..."

"Of course, Ms Collins. Please follow the path to the front door... and do stay off the grass, won't you?" There is a faint click, as the intercom goes dead. I hear a second click, as the automated gate begins to swing open, and I step into the estate's grounds. It is truly a beautiful property. A massive, perfectly tended front lawn is accented by all the wonderfully groomed foliage. Palm trees line the edge of the extended driveway which swoops upwards towards the huge mansion.

In all honesty, when I first arrived at this address, I thought I was in the wrong place. I've been to countless auditions before, and not a single one of them had been at a celebrity's home. That fact would probably have me worried, if I was invited here by a creepy old director or something, but I know that Marcus Deluna has no need for such nonsense. He is a very attractive actor, and he could basically have his pick of most of the women here. I'm positive that he's on the level. I keep up with all the local gossip, and I've never heard of him doing anything inappropriate with any of the beautiful women he's worked with in the past.

Yeah, an audition at a celeb's home is a bit unorthodox, but I'm not really worried about it.

Once I'd confirmed with my driver that I was at the proper location, I got out of the vehicle and approached the property on foot. It would have been nice to drive directly up to the mansion, but the Uber that I hired was driving a crappy looking car, and it wouldn't do for me to show up getting out of a shitty looking vehicle, now would it? I need to give off a certain air of success.

I admire the sprawling lawn as I approach the large home. It has massive wooden doors, with delicate, sophisticated inlaying. The entire house is absolutely fabulous. This is the exact type of home that I'm going to buy as soon as I hit it big. Again, I force myself to temper my expectations... and once again, I find it impossible. This is going to be amazing, I can just feel it.

As soon as I reach the door, I press the ornate call button. Almost immediately, the door silently opens, and I'm staring at a man in a traditional butler's uniform. Honestly, it's a little eerie. The mental image I had earlier fits this man to a T. He is staring at me with a blank, almost annoyed look. His gray hair looks so proper and distinguished, along with his sharp, matching mustache. Silently, he gestures for me to enter.

I step into the luxurious building, and the cool air-conditioning is such a welcoming feeling. The interior of the foyer is even more lavish than the exterior. I grew up poor, but I'll be honest, I've been to countless bougie parties since coming to Cali, and the decor of this house rivals even the finest mansions I've seen in the past. Clearly, Marcus hired one hell of an interior decorator.

The butler motions for me to follow him, and as soon as he closes the door, he leads me into a large, spacious room. It is bare, except for the tasteful decor which lines the wall, and a single table in the center of the spacious area. With eyes that look bored and disinterested, he points. "On that table is an NDA and a box containing the outfit required for the interview. Please read and sign the paperwork, and then you can get dressed if you decide to continue. You can take all of your original clothes and place them back into the box, to keep them together. I'll be just outside the door, and I'll return with the camera set up, to film your audition. Please hurry, I don't have all day."

Without another word, he steps from the room, leaving me alone with the table, the stack of white papers, and the small box.

"Is there a changing room or something...?" I call out, but he is already gone.

I step over tentatively, examining the paperwork. It is an unusually large stack for a non-disclosure agreement, however clearly if Marcus has elected to host this at his home, it must be a passion project. That means that there's possibly no screenwriter, or outside financiers, or whatever. I would imagine that would mean that he needs more secrecy on the project. The script probably hasn't even been copyrighted yet.

There is an expensive, high quality pen sitting next to the stack. At the edge of the table, the small box rests; My eyes are naturally drawn to the thing, which is wrapped with ornate silky pink fabric and tied with a lace ribbon. This is a strange container to hold an audition costume, but again... passion projects generally come with unique, unusual circumstances.

Skimming through the paperwork, I see much of the same verbiage that I've noticed in other NDAs... shall not divulge any information relevant to the project... blah blah blah... the penalty for releasing undisclosed information will result in termination... litigation... yadda yadda... I get halfway through the stack before I flip back to the last page and sign. No one actually reads these things all the way through.

Placing the pen down, I turn my attention towards the pink box sitting next to it. I allow my fingers to drop down to the smooth container. As I remove the top, I gaze inside. Honestly, I'm the tiniest bit annoyed. I was hoping that Marcus would see me in this sundress. It fits me so perfectly, and it wasn't cheap at all... ugh, what a waste. Hopefully the costume they've picked will be a decent fit.

There is silky black material inside the box, with delicate, lacy white fringe. I raise an eyebrow. Is this... a maid's uniform? Like a French maid's outfit? Hmmm... That's unexpected. I was expecting to be playing the part of the heroine in this film, not the hired help. Maybe this is a drama, not an action role? Or is it romance? Or perhaps these clothes are a disguise? That's possible. Marcus is better known for his action films, I think, but maybe it's a romance and he wants me to play the leading lady? The forbidden lower class paramour to a rich nobleman?

I can feel my heart flutter with excitement. Marcus is a hot piece of ass. As a fellow actor, I respect him first and foremost for his talent in the craft, but I'd be lying if I said he couldn't get me going a little. He's fit as fuck, and those deep blue eyes of his could melt the heart of any red blooded woman. Of course, I'll only think of him professionally! I'm here to do the job, but if the job

happens

to involve making out with a gorgeous man... I won't complain!

I pull out the garment, marveling at the incredibly pleasant feel of the fabric. As soon as the small set of clothes are fully drawn out, I look into the box for the rest. Wait... is that it?

Upending the package, additional dark material rolls out of the box and into my hand. I instantly realize that it's a pair of thigh high, nylon, fishnet stockings, coiled up. I'm about to put the container down when one last article of clothing slips from the box into my outstretched fingers. It's a lacy, black g-string. What... what the fuck!? They don't expect me to change my underwear, do they? It takes me half a second to remember what panties I'm currently wearing. I'm pretty sure it's the cute teal pair with the adorable teddy-bear print on the ass. They look cute as heck, but they aren't particularly sexy.

Why would they even need me to wear a g-string? I feel a sudden bit of worry begin to sink in. I quickly pull out my phone and search Marcus Deluna's filmography. Scanning through the list, I don't see anything adult oriented... not even any raunchy sex comedies.

I take a deep breath and try to steady myself. It's really no big deal. Lots of actresses wear skimpy clothes in movies, and even do nude scenes. Ordinarily, that isn't dealt with at the audition, and the SAG would have a conniption fit over this one, but I can't let anything get in the way of this job! This is my one big chance!

I extend the uniform out and examine it closely. Damn, it is really short... and it's really low cut too. This is closer to a caricature of a maids uniform. I think I have swimsuits that are less revealing! I can feel my pulse beginning to accelerate slightly. But it's okay. I don't need to stress about it. I'll wear the get-up, but there shouldn't be any need for me to wear the thong.

I glance around the spacious room with a twinge of anxiety. Of course, it's still entirely empty, but part of me is on edge just the same. I don't think I've ever gotten naked in such a large open room. Certainly not in a stranger's house. Whatever... I'm alone, so I'll just get it done as quickly as I can. I step out of my heels and then slip the dress over my head, tossing it into the pretty little box.

As I stand topless, wearing only my panties within this massive enclosure, I feel a shiver as my skin breaks out in goose pimples. It is really cold in this room, especially compared to the scorching heat of the outside. As quickly as I can, I pull myself into the jet black dress. I can't believe how snug this thing fits me. I mean, it is

way

too short, and it makes my cleavage pop out in an incredibly inappropriate manner, but it fits my waist like a glove.

I gingerly take the white apron and begin to tie it around my waist, when I see that there is a small silk bag attached to it by a ribbon. Realizing that it must be the accessories to this getup, I set it to the side. The lacy white fabric of my apron extends down almost as far as the hemline of the dress. This is truly ridiculous! Absurdity aside, it almost feels as if these clothes were tailored to fit me... that's a bit of a creepy thought! How did Marcus get my measurements?

Reaching into the silky bag, I draw out more material. There isn't an actual, modest dress in here... what a pity. A white piece of cloth slips from the bag and lands on the floor. Oh... it's the head piece. I bend to pick it up and blush self-consciously. This maid's dress does

not

cover my ass at all when I bend down.

I retrieve the item quickly and examine it. Again, it looks like a mockery of the real article. Far from being a functional mob cap, this is a lacy, delicate headband... almost a hair piece, honestly. It's just for show. The bag also contains wristbands and a choker. Fuck, this is so degrading, but it'll be worth it in the end. I like to wear an elastic band around my wrist, for occasions like this, and I remove it, drawing my silky red hair up into a ponytail, before fixing the headpiece in place.

I slip on the rest of the accessories before remembering the thigh high leggings. I unroll the fishnet stockings, and examine the intricate designs which adorn the entire length. As a girl who pays a fair amount of attention to high fashion... I

know

how much these stockings cost. I wonder if I can keep them after this audition. Probably not, but if they don't ask for them back, I'm taking them home, for sure! It isn't every day that you get to wear stockings that cost upwards of 200 dollars!