THE ACT

Laila stepped out of the air conditioned hospital building into the glaring late morning New York sun. Although she walked briskly towards the parking lot to her banged up Audi, Constance, - aptly named because of the almost-a-decade old vehicle's consistency in longing to return to the mechanic's workshop almost, unfailingly, every fortnightly-, which was parked a few metres ahead, her mind, however, was in a state of near breakdown. It kept replaying the discussion she'd just had with Dr. Meyers, the young looking British medical doctor, who was in charge of her brothers case.

While still walking in the almost unbearable heat, beads of sweat now begining to form on her flawlessly brown skin, Laila mulled over the option the kindly looking doctor gave her earlier during their discussion after Xavier, her brother's physical examination, of providing her with a physical therapist, who happened to be the doctor's cousin, to assist her brother who'd been suffering from fibromyalgia for a few years. Meyers had said he'd get a discount for them because of his familial relations with the trainer, but Laila didn't want to mooch off the kind doctor further. He'd already done so much for them, right from the start of Xavier's diagnosis.

She was still deep in her thoughts about the issue and already five cars down from hers when she heard her name being called across the parking lot.

She paused for a moment and turned, upturned chocolate brown eyes widening, ever so slightly, in recognition of the owner of the voice. It was Amber Smithson, Laila's former colleague, and one of her so called "friends" during her time in the industry. Not particularly friends, at that time, though, since the likes of Amber who came from old money made a hobby of it to look down on Laila's kind; the nouveau rich, whom they considered uncultured and lacking. And Amber, blonde, blue eyed, angel looking as she was, always played the part of pacifier and peace keeper, only for the eyes of the public and for her clearly braindead fans. The beautifully blonde, Oscar deserving actress, however, as Laila would come to find out from Stephanie Reed- dark haired, gossip spreading Stephanie, who could have inside news on the Pope himself, regardless of whether or not she had ever met him in person- mostly served to fan the flames of discord that existed, not only as regards the whole status issue, but also when it came to a number of others as well in the industry. Laila shuddered when she first heard about this from Stephanie. Some people clearly took their profession too seriously.

"So it really is you, Laila," Amber's annoyingly shrill voice came, now sounding closer as she walked towards Laila, her 6 inch pencil heels making a click clack sound on the tarred ground which was beginning to piss of Laila mildly.

"Oh, my. I almost didn't recognize you because of these faded looking clothes you're putting on. Lounge pants, really, Laila? Also, I can't help but ask, but is this bag, perhaps,a knockoff ?" The golden haired female inquired looking scandalized, her face stiff with surgery infills, trying, and clearly failing, at mimicking a pious, concerned look, with her perfectly straight plastic nose- something Laila had also heard about from the all-knowing Stephanie- scrunched up, as though trying hardly not to breathe in the stench of the nouveau rich, now turned "poor", Afro-Indian ex-actress, her face making a comically ridiculous expression while trying not to do so.

Meanwhile, Laila, whom, at first, wasn't happy with being disturbed during her contemplations, was now trying very hard not to burst into laughter at the absurd way in which the other woman's overly stiff face was trying so hard to form an expression which clearly successfully eluded her.

Laila chuckled in mockery, her beautifully long eyelashes fluttering slightly, much to the chagrin and annoyance of the other actress who stood 5 inches taller due to the heels she wore.

"Hello to you too, Amber. I, as well, almost didn't recognize you, save for your voice. I thought face changing was a biological thing which sometimes marked adolescence and puberty. Colour me surprised. Or maybe it's high time I invested in some contacts or, perhaps, glasses. After all, it's quite unnatural for grown women to look so different in the span of about two years, no?"

The other actress, nose flaring in anger, glared hard at Laila and then tried, failingly, to cover it with a smile. Her plans clenched in a tight grip, nails digging into her flesh, she spoke quickly with the words drawn out for emphasis, "It's called a glow up, dear Laila. How crass of you not to know that. Whatever are you implying?"

"What would I be implying? I clearly said nothing misleading, did I, dear Amber?" Laila put forth in response, her alluring heart shaped face appearing amused, with her full lips tilted upwards in a mischievous half grin.

"Oh well," the other female continued on, obviously trying to shift the attention from that uncomfortable topic, "Seeing as you didn't really keep in touch with anyone in the circle besides that wanton talkative Stephanie, I'm holding a party today at my husband's mansion, a centuries old one we just purchased and remodelled. You must know my husband, don't you, dear Laila?"

"Oh, here we go," the ex-actress thought inwardly rolling her eyes heavenward while wishing that Amber would stop the usage of "dear" alongside her name. It gave her the shudders.

"Well, of course you must have heard of him. He is quite successful, Laila. Even though, in more recent years you've made quite the effort to stay away from our circle. How sad, though. Although that was quite the only proper thing to do, due to your ermm..." the British actress paused, drawing out the silence dramatically for a few moments, clearly trying to incense her former colleague, "Situation," she concluded, her eyes curving at the outer edges, trying so hard to look amiable and apologetic even. She continued, "Moreover, he comes from the Mcdumont family. You know, the one which has worked in oils and mining for several decades now."

No, Laila actually didn't know about any Mc whatever family, oils and minerals or whatever it was they made their generations' old wealth from. They weren't making any of it for her, nor paying for her brother's treatment, or Constance's bi-weekly fix-ups, so she clearly didn't care to give any fucks about some old money family.

"Anyway, the party is kicking off at 8pm this evening. All our friends are going to be there, and oh, my, I certainly must tell them of how I met you in the hospital today. So do good be there, Laila dear. I can't wait to have you." Fake enthusiasm dripped, while the other actress spoke in her gushing tone, her accent even more pronounced.

Laila,her slightly arched brows furrowed in mild annoyance and exasperation at the other actress's clearly underlying threat to speak badly of her if she didn't show up at her party, sighed slowly with her eyes closed, and even though she'd discerned that the blonde actress had plans to most likely publicly humiliate her under the pretext of speaking with concern, she conceded. "Sure, I'll make certain to be there, at this party of yours, Amber."

"How absolutely exciting, Laila. I'll make sure to add your name to the guest list."

And then, taking a peek at her designer watch, she exclaimed exaggeratedly in surprise, "oh! I must run now, Laila. I have an appointment with my doctor. By the way, what were you doing in the hospital?" She looked curiously at Laila, her eyes obviously fishing for gossip.

Laila clicked her tongue almost silently. The heat was beginning to bother her again, and so was Amber's question. "Nothing much. Just to get some prescriptions. Haven't been feeling too well." And she truly hadn't been feeling quite well of recent. Only, she didn't come to get any prescriptions for herself. She didn't have much spare cash to waste on that.

Amber's eyes widened like a Doe's and, then, knowing she wouldn't get anything juicy for gossip, she stated ambiguously, "Oh, my, Laila. How pitiful. Luane, you remember her? The one who acted the role of the second female lead in Director Cassy's movie, 'The Falling'. Poor thing couldn't even bag the role of female lead. Well, I heard from some sources that she also wasn't feeling well a few weeks ago and after passing out during filming, she was taken to the hospital where she was discovered to be two months pregnant. And she claimed she wasn't even in a relationship with any man during her interview a few months ago. How scandalous, that one. I always knew she was no good."

Laila kept fighting the urge to facepalm and carry out another classic eye roll. She hadn't even kissed a man in more than a year, so Amber was obviously just trying to get a rise out of her. What a not so smart pretender.

"Anyway," the British blonde exclaimed cheerily, "Do make sure to show up at my party this evening, Laila. The gang and I would all be expecting you there, you know. How lovely it was to meet you." And when she stepped closer to give the parting kiss on both cheeks, Laila, employing her acting talent which hadn't gone rusty, even though she hadn't acted a role in more than two years, began to cough incessantly. Amber stepped back quickly, as though Laila could pass on some sort of tuberculosis or COVID to her, or whatever it was that caused her to cough all of a sudden.

"Don't be upset, Amber dear. I only have a small cold. Nothing that ghastly," Laila revealed, speaking piteously.

Amber let out a laugh all too quickly and commented, "Oh. Why didn't you say so before?"

"You came to the conclusion yourself that I was here for something else. Didn't even allow me to tell you the reason why. My apologies. Hope I didn't cough too close to your face. You might end up with a little cold as well. Oh, my," she exclaimed looking remorseful, "I really do hope your party this evening won't be ruined because of me." Laila let out another award winning Oscar performance, trying to look as sympathetic as possible, which only served to further incense the other female.

Amber chuckled dryly, whilst trying to maintain her cherubic attitude. "I'll be alright, Laila. Although I wish you mentioned the cold earlier on before I stepped closer to you. Anyway, I must go now. Do take care. And see you this evening."

She walked, ever so quickly, away from Laila, clearly still trying to maintain her calm composure.

Laila watched her go, while gloating in her mind. The other woman still wouldn't let her off from this entire party affair even after discovering about her "cold". What a witch.

She turned and continued in towards her beat-up car, her mind a little bit lighter than it had been before she came in contact with that joke of a woman.

Maybe she could make use of the British actress whenever she wanted to vent and lighten up her mood. Although she couldn't serve as a therapist, clearly, she had other purposes. Like that of a punching bag, only with the punches being verbal in nature, not physical.

This gave her something else to think about, and a noticeable bounce in her footsteps, as she walked under the glaring New York heat to the metallic sea blue Constance.