Free The Extra by Kenneth Rosenberg Page A

Warren, sitting at a table eating his dinner, wearing his same old grubby clothes but looking like a new man within them.  A man with a shave and a shampoo, and a glint of hope in his eyes.  Bridget walked up to the table and stood across from him.
    When he looked up, Warren nearly choked on his soup, coughing uncontrollably before putting down his spoon and holding the table with both hands to steady himself.  “Don’t tell me you’re here for the food?” he gasped.
    “I was just sort of in the neighborhood,” she replied, uncomfortably.  “Is this where you live?”
    “Sometimes,” he said, the color draining from his face as a sense of shame crept over him.
    “Mind if I join you?”  She pulled out a chair and sat before he could answer.
    “You could try the gruel if you like,” he managed.
    “No thanks, I’m not so hungry,” she answered.
    “Yes, well it’s not as good as it looks.”
    Bridget smiled politely as each of them looked for clues in the eyes of the other.  “I saw your audition today,” she said finally.
    Warren didn’t answer.  Instead he cast his eyes downward and took a sip of his soup, trying to pretend that she wasn’t there.  Yet why was she?  Had she followed him?  He didn’t like her seeing him here.  He didn’t like her knowing what his life was really like.
    “I snuck in.  To the stage.  I wanted to see how you did.  Curiosity, you know.”
     Warren waited for her to continue but she just sat there, staring at him.  “And?” he said finally.
    “What?” she answered, realizing that she’d been fixated on the slight indentation in his chin.  And the rugged cheekbones.  And the hair, clean for the first time since she’d known him.  She’d never looked at him in quite this way before.  She’d never felt the trembling emotions that swept over her now.  She’d told herself she was here to help him, out of a sense of responsibility, but there was more to it.
    “How did I do?” he asked.
    “You were amazing,” she replied.  “I could hardly believe my eyes.”
    “Come on,” he answered dismissively.  “I only read a couple lines.”
    “Sometimes that’s all it takes.  Believe me.  I’ve been acting a long time.  I know raw talent when I see it.”
    Warren shook his head and took another sip of his soup.  “I’ve never acted in my life,” he said, afraid to believe her.
    “Maybe that’s why you have no pretensions.  You’re just a natural,” said Bridget, her excitement level rising.  “Of course you need some polishing, but that’s just incidental.  That will come.”
    “Why are you telling me this?  What do you want from me?”  Warren eyed her suspiciously.
    “Look, I’m sorry if my being here upsets you.  I know I shouldn’t have followed you like this…”
    “Then why did you?”
    “Because I figured you might need some help.”
    Warren thought this over.  He did need help.  He knew that he did.  He was in over his head.  So why did Bridget’s offer make him so uneasy?  The answer to that question was simple enough.  It meant admitting how far he had fallen, both to Bridget and himself.  He looked to his soup and gave it a slow stir.  Inside him waged a war between pride and desire.  For the time being, pride won.  “I seem to be doing all right on my own,” he said.
    Bridget couldn’t help but scoff as she looked around the room at his surroundings.  “You think so?”
    Warren’s face flushed red.  “Did you come here to insult me?”
    “I’m just saying you could be doing better.”  This wasn’t going well and Bridget knew it, but she wasn’t sure how to turn the conversation back around.
     “I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time coming here.”  Warren didn’t give Bridget the chance to reply.  Before she could say any more, he stood and carried his tray across the room, dropped it at a bussing station, and walked on out the door.
    Bridget looked to her right to see a toothless