The Imperfect Past | Sachin Sharma

Yours sincerely…


The Imperfect Past

Sachin Sharma

The Audition Retribution Award


 

|17th October 2017|

Howard pulled her towards himself and placed his hands on her back. They kissed. She seemed distracted. Interrupting the smooch, she turned her face aside and suggested – “How about a drink before we discuss my role?”

“Why not? Whisky?”, he asked. She opened her hand bag and took out the script.

He came back and handed her two glasses and went back to the mini bar of the hotel room to get ice cubes. Fondling her breasts with his eyes, he sat down on the arm of the sofa where she was sitting and raised a toast, “To Cinema!”

The glasses clinked and he gulped his drink in one go.

“You are a whisky person, I like that,” he said.

“I usually drink Rum but whisky is also fine,”she mentioned.

“Oh no no…Sweetie! You don’t start an evening like this with Rum. You have a lot to learn from me,” he said and made another drink.

Sitting next to her, he lay his hands on her thigh and asked if he was the only one feeling tingling in his toes. They both laughed and kissed. He suddenly felt a vacuum inside his chest. He lay numb on the ground. His body was getting stiff and his eyes red.

|11th  September 2017|

“Hi, I  am Sarah,” she introduced herself to the panel of 3 ladies.

“Tell us about acting experiences, specially of intimate scenes?” Asked one of the 3.

“Yeah I used to do a lot of romantic roles in school theatre but then had to drop out as my romances continued off stage,” she struck her tongue out.

“And no one knows you in the industry, you claim?” Asked the other woman.

“Not a single soul, I am a professional entertainer from Amsterdam,” she said with pride.

“Are you aware of the kind of ordeals this role entails?” Warned the third woman.

Next morning Sarah got a call. “Congrats, you were unanimously selected for the job. Now be ready for the workshop.”

|17th October 2017|

Tied to a chair, Howard opened his eyes to see her napping in front of him.

He tried yelling but managed a squeak with a gagged mouth.

“Oh, hi,” she twisted her neck to get rid of the stiff.

Howard stared at her, drooling.

“I am Sarah, I’m not really a struggling actor. In fact I am on the job right now,” she was opening her hand bag while talking. She flung the pages of Howard’s script on the couch, drew out a small gun, followed by a knife, a pepper spray and finally a letter.

She straightened the sheet and kept it open on his lap and left the room with her bag.

Hi Howard, 

Greetings from The Howard Harassed Club. Yes, we’ve formed a club and have been discussing the ways of retribution. And we recently found out that there are too many of us. The membership of the club has reached 24; men & women, we have them all.

So congratulations as you just perpetrated the 25th casting couch. Sarah is quite an actor, you would agree. She helped us convey our vendetta in style. She spiked your drink and injected you with Miramaxine —a virus that paralyses the heart whenever the testosterone levels go high. 

Therefore please stay away from sex — in action and thought

Take care,

Your Past Adventures

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