Free Catch a Rising Star by Tracey Bateman Page A

air.
    “Please don’t tell anyone,” she begs. “I’ll for sure lose my job this time.”
    Has she killed anyone? Because I was almost done for. “This time?”
    She nods miserably. “Last week I used superglue on Joseph Toreno’s fake mustache. I didn’t know it was superglue. But it took
     a few days for the stuff to loosen enough for him to pull it off. He refuses to allow me to work on him anymore.”
    Who can blame him? I give her a nod of sympathy. “Have you considered a different career? You’re pretty enough to be on TV.”
    “Thanks, but I’d die if anyone paid that kind of attention to me. Besides, hair and makeup have been my dream all my life.
     I went to cosmetology school just so I could get this job.” She ducks her head. “I’m not really supposed to tell people this,
     but Sharon Blankenship is my mom. She pulled strings to get me hired. She’ll kill me if I’m fired.”
    Sharon Blankenship. The matriarch of
Legacy of Life
and diva to put all other divas to shame.
    “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” I say.
    She leans over my shoulder, and I lower my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “If Sharon’s your mom, I don’t think you have
     to worry about getting fired.” Her face immediately perks up. I smile. Now that I can breathe again, I’m feeling more generous.
    A stage guy shows up just as Tonya puts the last of the gauze in place. I look like a crazed mummy, with fabulous violet eyes.
     Contacts for the part. But they really are gorgeous. The stagehand ogles the pretty makeup girl and barely notices Mummy-girl.
     “They’re ready for Miss Brockman.”
    “She’s ready to go.” Tonya flashes me a bright smile and I’m charmed. I think I might have found a new friend.
    Okay, so what do I have to do all day? Lie in a very uncomfortable hospital bed while “nurses” bustle on and off set, messing
     with my IV and talking around me.
    Old Nurse says to New Nurse, who is unfamiliar with Felicia’s situation: “Oh, isn’t it just a shame? Imagine being so disfigured
     and in a coma for three years.” (Oh, masterful writing, Julie. I’m awed. Really.
Not
.)
    New Nurse: “Isn’t there any way we can find out who she is?”
    Old Nurse: “We’ve exhausted every avenue at our disposal. Until she wakes up… if she ever does, we’ll just have to wait
     and pray for the best.”
    Nurses bow their heads for a moment of silent prayer.
Pu-lease.
    Oh, oh, my big moment. Time to put all that acting experience into motion. I move my right index finger. The camera is zooming
     in, but the praying nurses don’t notice that their patient is obviously coming out of her three-year coma.
    And cut.
    And there we have it. Acting at its most brilliant.
    Squeeze those muscles, Tabby. You’re as flabby as old lady Blankenship.”
    If I weren’t going ten miles per hour on the elliptical machine and dripping with sweat, I’d take the time to tell Freddie-the-horrible
     to keep those remarks about our show’s matriarch to himself if he knows what’s good for him.
    “I. Am. Squeezing. You jerk.” I can’t breathe, and I know that’s not good.
    “Your butt is that squishy even
while
squeezing? Oh this is so much worse than I expected.”
    Okay, the guy has been training me for more than a month, so he knows exactly what my glutes look and feel like. He’s just
     being mean and trying the tough love approach to get me to work harder.
    “Okay, Freddie, who told you to get me to lose more weight?”
    Mr. Innocent gives me those eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Cupcake Abs, and what are you doing slowing down?
     Get back up to speed, and for that little ‘break’ I’m adding five more minutes.”
    Totally unintimidated, I come to a complete stop. Freddie looks like he’s going to go through the roof. “What do you think
     you’re doing? Step it up, girlfriend.”
    “Not until you tell me.”
    “Okay, fine. Jerry.”
    “Bull. Jerry couldn’t care less. Have