“He will see you now.”

Vilma looked up. The same woman that had shown her to the green room upon her arrival was standing there. Vilma put the script she had been reading back into her bag and stood. “Thank you Ms….?”

The woman gave her a quick up and down glance, taking all of her in. Vilma had been shocked by her brisk manner. The woman had dark grey hair that was cut in a short bob and a face that gave nothing away. She was just shy of four feet tall; for such a small woman, she had an incredibly large presence, almost as if it could not be contained in her small body.

She nodded, as if Vilma had said something. “You get the part and I’ll tell you my name. And I think you will. He’ll like you. Follow me.”

Vilma was led past the set builders; they were making a large cathedral and the air was filled with the singing of saws, the drone of drills and the thudding of hammers. The short woman led her to a plain faced door. When the woman opened it, Vilma gasped.

The office beyond the door was sumptuous. The walls were painted a rich chocolate brown and complimented by dark leather furniture. The floors were made of hardwood and shone as if lit from below. In the centre of the room was a white table with a crystal vase. In the vase sat one black rose.

“You can go in. Mr. Tivanga is waiting for you.”

“Where is he? I don’t see him.”

“He’s waiting for you.”

Vilma nodded and stepped into the room. The woman closed the door and Vilma experienced a feeling of being trapped. Trying to distract herself, she sat on the couch, took the script out of her purse and started reading it. Whatever the behaviour of his assistant, if that was in fact what the woman’s role was around here, Vilma knew that she was getting the chance of a lifetime.

Landing a part in a film by Tivanga was a once in a lifetime chance. It made an actor’s career. People went on to stellar roles, won Oscar’s and worldwide fame. If you were in a Tivanga film, it opened doors for you.

You couldn’t just audition for one of his films, however. You were invited to. Tivanga was notoriously picky and often chose unknowns to star in his films. It not only made their career, it changed their lives.

Vilma was not an unknown actor. She had starred in three pictures to date and done lots of television and stage work. She had been waiting for years to get the Part, the one that changed her career and turned her from passing fancy into a household name.

This was her chance. This was more than a role, this was the role. The only problem was that she had no idea which part she would be reading for. Her agent had called early in the morning three days ago, telling her that he was going to send her a script and that a reading had been booked.

He was strangely excited. Vilma asked him why he was acting so oddly and he answered with only one word: Tivanaga.

So here she was in a beautiful office, waiting to see if her life would change for the better. The script was for a film called Cascade and it concerned a woman who learned a secret about her lover. He turned out to be a high priest of some sort of black magic order. The further she delved into the darkness, the more she lost herself.

It was a powerful piece. Vilma only hoped that she would play the lead; it was the strongest female lead role she had ever read. She knew that Tivanaga wrote as well as directed his films, letting no one else into the writing process. Some interviewers claimed that he wrote as if he were channeling the words.

Hearing a rustling noise, Vilma looked up and at first could see nothing amiss. However, the rustling noise came again, from very close to her. She looked around again and noticed the black rose in the vase on the table in front of her. It was shivering and vibrating. As she watched it, the black colour of its petals began to fall away as if it were shedding the blackness. A vibrant red showed through, growing in dominance until it was no longer a black rose.

Vilma reached out to touch the flowers petals when a deep, gravelly voice spoke. “Please don’t touch the flower.”

Looking up, Vilma sucked in a breath. In front of her stood Carolos Tivanaga in all his glory. He was just as he looked in his promotional shoots: dark hair cut short, coffee coloured skin, bright blue eyes that seemed not to just look out at you but shine. He stood an impressive six foot six. Taking him in, Vilma was breathless for a moment before she extended her hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you Mr. Tivanga. It’s an honour.”

“The honour is all mine Miss Lopez. It’s all mine. Please sit.”

She did so and he pulled up a small chair she had not noticed before and sat down across from her. “Shooting begins in three days. You will have to sign a non-disclosure agreement and shooting will take three months. I look forward to having you in my film.”

Vilma was shaken. “You mean you want me for Cascade? But who will I be playing? My agent didn’t say.”

“Why the lead, of course! Did you not picture yourself in the role? Did you not see yourself in her features? I wrote the part with you in mind. I hope you’re not offended that I took such a liberty with your person. I was inspired when I saw you in Come and Catch Me. You were wasted in that film, but you were the only shining light worth watching. I watched it thirteen times so that I could bask in your light.”

Vilma shook her head. “I don’t have a light.”

“Oh, but you do. It’s why you’re here, why you were able to wake up the rose.”

She looked at the flower and it had grown fuller, more vibrant. “I don’t understand.”

Tivanga regarded her for a moment and then tented his fingers together. “You do have a light inside you. I employ people who shine, Miss Lopez. I don’t employ mere actors. You have to shine brightly and you do. I want to let that light shine through the film, through the celluloid, touching every heart in that theatre. A mere actor can’t do this. They are talking head, meat puppets without strings.”

“I still don’t understand. Why did you mean by waking up the flower?”
“That flower was dead. It was a husk of itself. Yet being across from you for a few moments was enough to bring it back to its full glory. That is your light, Miss Lopez, your shine, your essence. No mere actor has this, but you do. I want to use that, to pull the essence from you through your performance. I will make you a star.”

For some reason, Vilma shivered. She didn’t like the way he was speaking about her and it unnerved her for some reason. However, she knew that starring in a Tivanga picture was a once in a lifetime opportunity. She pasted a smile on her face. “I’d be happy to sir!”

He considered her for a moment and she wondered if he was going to speak. When he finally did, his voice was almost a whisper. “There is something you should know. I don’t usually tell any of my leading men or ladies this. But I will tell you.”

“What is it?” Vilma was frightened now.

“By the end of the picture, you will be a star, yes. However, there is a cost, a sacrifice. By the end of the picture, your light will be depleted. It goes out into the world for others like myself that need that light to live. You will be a star, go on to have any starring role you could wish for. But the light will be gone from you.”

He held out his hands in the air. “On one hand, mediocrity.” He raised his left hand. “On the other, stardom.” He raised his right hand. “Stars don’t come cheap. I can make you one, Miss Lopez. I can change your life. All you have to do is choose.”

Vilma believed him. He was being completely sincere and the fear in her grew until it was clamouring to get out of her skin. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I have never seen someone shine as brightly as you, and you have no idea of your true power. I must have your choice, Miss Lopez. Choose.”

Vilma looked at his upheld hands, what they could give to her and what they would take away. Vilma looked at his hands and knew her what her choice would be.

Dedicated to Vilma Lopez who is a star. 

When Rachael saw the frog, she followed it.

It was multi-coloured and had the most gorgeous hues in its skin. There were blues and greens, bright red and gorgeous purple and the colours looked as if they were made of jewels. As it hopped, it looked as if it wore a rainbow on its back. She followed it, was drawn to follow it. She felt a little bit like Alice in Wonderland following the white rabbit and look at the trouble that Alice got into with that; but it didn’t matter. She was powerless not to follow it.

It was a while before she looked up around her. Rachael had never been in this part of town before and didn’t recognize anything. She only hoped she would be able to get home. The jewelled frog hopped down an alleyway and she followed it again. When she came out of the alleyway, she was amazed at what she saw.

A mirror stood in the centre of a field. Rachael could hear the grass whispering in the breeze; almost as if it were whispering in excitement or knew she was there. She watched as the frog hopped up to the mirror and then hopped into it. It was as if the mirror were made of liquid silver. It swallowed the frog whole. Rachael didn’t think, she just ran towards the mirror. The beaded frog was the most colourful thing she had ever seen and she didn’t want to lose it.

Rachael was a foot from the mirror when the whispering grass increased in volume, its sounds almost deafening. The mirror was also filled with a bright, pure light and it shone brighter than the sun. In the mirror, she didn’t see herself. She saw a land of grass, trees and water. The brightness coming from the mirror was actually coming from the sun that shone. Rachael wanted to be surrounded by that brightness, so no thought was required. She went to step through the mirror.

It was as if it reached out to take hold of her. The liquid mirror was warm and soft and closed over her. There was a moment of darkness but when it cleared she was in the land she had glimpsed in the mirror, with on crucial difference.

Instead of the frog, there was a woman in front of her.

At least, Rachael thought it was a woman. She was wearing a beautiful dress in a dark brown hue and white stitching. Rachael took a closer look at her and realized the woman was not wearing a dress-she was made of fabric.

“I’m so glad you made it through the mirror Rachael. You followed my frog.” The woman bent down to pick up the frog, her body whispering like the grass. “You did it without any hesitation, I’m so proud of you.” When she stood, Rachel saw that the the frog had become part of her dress.

Rachael tried to see the woman’s mouth and saw that she had one stitched onto her face in white thread. It didn’t move when she spoke, so she wondered where the woman’s voice was coming from. “Who are you? And why did you send your frog to find me?”

The woman laughed gently and it sounded like wind chimes. “I’ve been remiss in my manners. I am Schway Schway.”

“You’re made of fabric.” Rachael pointed out.

“This is so. Come, let’s sit. We don’t have a lot of time. You’re going to wake soon.”

“Do you mean this is all a dream?”

“Yes, but just because it’s in your head doesn’t make it any less real.” She smiled and waved her hands. Rachael saw more fabric appear from nothing and form itself into a table and chairs. “Come, don’t be shy, it’s perfectly safe.”

Rachael sat at the table and saw something she hadn’t before: a tea pot, made out of more of the same fabric, was sitting there with two cups on either side of it. Rachael sat as Schway Schway poured the tea. Rachael expected to see more fabric pouring out of the spout, but tea poured out and filled both cups with a rich earthy smelling tea. Taking a sip, she found her entire body warmed all the way through.

“This is very good!” Rachael said.

Schway Schway nodded. “Thank you. It’s a family recipe made from dreams. They are unformed dreams, so they have not lost their sweetness or their potential. Drink and be filled with light.”

Rachael did and found the tea more wonderful than anything else she’d had before. A question occurred to her and she put down her tea cup to ask it. “Why am I here? Why did you send for me?”

Schway Schway put down her own cup and held out her hands to Rachael, taking Rachael’s hands in her own. “You have forgotten how to dream. Being here is the first step.”

“But dreams aren’t real, they can’t do anything.”

“On the contrary. Dreams are filled with hope, with longing. They keep us going when nothing else will. What was your fondest dream as a child Rachael?”

Rachael didn’t have to think about it. “I’ve always wanted to see the world, to take in as much of it I could see.”

“What else? You must have more than one dream.” Schway Schway prompted her. “Dream big, Rachael.”

“Well, it’s silly…”

“No dream is ever silly. What is it?”

“I have a vivid memory from my early childhood. I remember when our choir performed on a real stage. I will never forget how it felt to be on that stage: the lighting, the warm sound. It was intoxicating.” She took another deep breath. “I want to perform in a musical.”

“And you shall, Rachael Kyte. You will soar like the kite in your name, high into the wind and beyond. “

“How did you know my last name?”

“This is your dream. You tell me.”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s the wonderful thing about dreams. Even if they are of the unknown, the reflect things we’ve seen or heard that day and interpret it for us, to be played back at a later time. Don’t live your life in dreams. Live your dreams instead.”

The fabric woman and the world around her began to fade. Rachael knew she was waking up. She was filled with a momentary panic. “Wait, I don’t know what to do!”

“Yes you do. You’ve always known.”

Blackness came then and Schway Schway and the mirror world disappeared.

When she opened her eyes and looked around her room, Rachael was in her bedroom, in her bed, surrounded by all of her things. Everything was different however because she saw the world in a different way now.

She went to get out of bed but noticed something sitting on her bedspread. It was a broach, shaped like a frog. Looking at it, she knew it was her frog, Schway Schway’s frog. It had the same markings and the same beautiful jewel toned colours, each a small bead that shone like the light of a rainbow.

Picking it up, she saw a note was pinned to it. It was two words written on a piece of fabric that she thought might have come from Schway Schway’s dress.

The note read: Dream big.

Rachael felt warmth run through her, almost as if she’d had another sip of the dream tea. She knew that from now on, she would start living her dreams and the thought didn’t terrify her. It filled her with excitement.

“Dream big.” She said out loud.

She pinned the frog broach to her nightgown and got out of bed. She would look through the want ads for parts in musicals or choirs, anything she fancied. Rachael smiled as she went to the kitchen to find the paper.

She would start making some of her dreams a reality. They may only be dreams, but they were hers. She would stop holding on to regret and start living.

Rachael would dream big and anything was possible.

Dedicated to Rachael Kyte who is awesome. 🙂