Page 24 of A Little Bit Extra

I walk into Carla’s office to find Marcy sitting at her desk frantically searching through papers, grunting with every page she picks up, and throwing them on the floor.

“Everything okay?” I ask. She looks to acknowledge me, shrugs, and directs her eyes back to her stack of papers. I decide to take a seat and wait for her to find whatever she’s looking for.

The phone on the desk rings. Marcy side-eyes it, but doesn’t move to answer. It continues to ring.

“Ugh.” Marcy picks up the phone. “What?” She keeps her tone short, not even offering a greeting. Just a demand to whomever is on the other side of the line. “You have to be fucking kidding me. What are we supposed to do, Lane?” A pause. An eye roll. “You’re the one running casting. You’re supposed to have a list of people for these kinds of things. Where can we find someone at the last minute?” Another pause. Longer this time. She now looks at me and widens her eyes. “Wait, Lane, Cassie will do it.” She can’t mean what I think she means. No. She wouldn’t. It’s still my first week. Marcy just smiles and nods a few times at whatever Lane is saying on the phone. “You’re fucking lucky. You better have a list of people on speed dial in case this happens again. Carla not being here today is one thing. Having to deal with your casting fuckups is another. I don’t have time for it.”

Wait, casting fuckup? She volunteered me for something. She can’t mean, no, there is no way she just said I would fill in for someone.

Marcy hangs up and stands from the desk. Walking past me, she heads toward the front of the room, toward the door. “Cassie, you coming?”

Oh. “Yes. Um, what am I doing, exactly?” I stand from the chair, throwing my bag back over my shoulder and rushing to meet her by the door.

She looks over her shoulder as we descend the stairs. “Oh, I need an extra today for a café scene. Lane reminded me you have acting experience.” Shit. Shit. Shit. He must have remembered from when we hung out the other night. Just because I have acting experience doesn’t mean I want to play an extra in this movie. On short notice.

“You don’t need me to do anything else?” I ask, secretly hoping she needs me to do something way more important than be an extra. I’m sure someone else can do it. Literally anyone else.

“Nope, this is more important. Plus, you have a line or two to deliver and I don’t know anyone else that works here that can confidently do that,” Marcy says.

We reach the set and find Ed sitting in his director’s chair, one leg crossed over the other. He’s holding his clipboard with his left hand and flipping through pages with his right. His glasses are slowly falling down his nose, but he doesn’t push them back. He’s studying whatever’s in front of him with great intent.

He finally looks to see us walking his way. “Ah, ladies! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I smile and offer a small wave.

“Cassie here is going to fill in as your café extra today,” Marcy says, glancing at me with a smile. I wonder if this is some sort of revenge for hanging out with Emmett the other night. I know they’re close.

Ed’s eyes widen. He slams his clipboard on his lap, followed by both hands on top of it. “That’s incredible news! Cassie, my dear, have you been briefed about your lines?”

I look at Marcy, who seems to be too busy with something on her phone to even care about the conversation.

I shake my head. “No, but I’m a quick learner,” I say. I’m good at learning lines quickly. You kind of have to be when you move out here. Auditions happen on such short notice sometimes. It’s an excellent skill to have. Memorizing one line is one thing, becoming the character is another.

Ed briefs me on the role. I’ll be playing a barista for a coffee shop, Cooper’s Coffee. It’s a minor scene. I have to stand at the register, take an order, and smile. In that order. Should be easy enough, considering I take orders at the diner regularly. I just need to think of this as a warmup for my acting class tonight. Ed sends me off to the wardrobe department, where I receive a tan ball cap with ‘Cooper’s Coffee’ in red embroidery and an apron to match. I realize I didn’t ask who I’m filming with. I look down at the sheet of paper with my lines. Michael. I don’t know who’s playing Michael. I shake my head. It’s too late to back out now. Plus, they don’t have anyone else, I’m already here for work, and I can use the extra money.

A costume designer directs me back to the set to wait for filming to begin. I had all of 20 minutes to memorize my lines and pray to the acting gods to please let me remember them. I’d like to look like I know what I’m doing since this is for a movie. Oh, my god. I’m going to be in a movie. My palms start sweating, my heart beats a million times a minute, and I suddenly feel like I can run a marathon with all of this nervous energy. This doesn’t check off the “land a leading role” item on my life plan, but it’s a fun experience so far.

I look around the set to take my mind off filming. It’s a small coffee shop. There are a handful of tables full of other extras acting as patrons. I’m behind a coffee bar at the back of the set, with another extra who is the one “making” the drinks. I don’t remember his name, but he’s been working as an extra at January Studios for a few years now. He gave me a few pointers. A lot of things don’t apply to me, like speaking to the crew and not making any noise when I’m not supposed to. He also said to not speak to any of the principal actors, to which I just have to smile and nod.

He doesn’t need to know I’m friends with the same principal actor walking toward the set right now. Since I’m wearing a baseball cap, I don’t expect Emmett to meet my gaze. He stops by Ed on the edge of the set, so he hasn’t even looked in my direction yet.

The music in the café plays, and the extras sitting in chairs start talking. I quickly shake any remaining nerves off at the same time Ed yells ‘action.’

I’m looking at the register when Emmett approaches. He has the first line, so I’m just pretending to clean the counter while I wait for him to speak.

“Hi there,” Emmett says.

I meet his gaze. He smiles and tilts his head in confusion, but still seems happy to see me. I smile back.

“Hi, welcome to Cooper’s Coffee. What can I get started for you today?” I am holding a cup in my left hand, a marker in my right, getting ready to write his order on the cup.

“Black coffee, large. Two sugars.”

“And your name?” I ask.

“Michael.”

“Michael,” I repeat, while writing the name on the cup. I pretend to ring the order into the register. “That will be $3.50.”

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