CHAPTER 63: COMPLIMENT FOR TALENT

Erisia was in the kitchen doing the dishes when Rita appeared in the doorway, phone in hand.

"Erisia, your phone’s ringing," she said, holding it out.

Erisia glanced at her wet, soapy hands, then back at Rita. "Can you just place it on the counter and answer it for me?"

"Okay." Rita hurried in, set the phone beside the sink, and swiped to answer. Before Erisia could even say thanks, the girl had already dashed back to the living room, her slippers scuffing the tile as she rejoined the loud commentary of a trending couple reality show.

Erisia chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. The bubbles clung to her wrists as she reached for the sponge again—until a familiar voice came through the speaker.

"Hey, Erisia."

She smiled faintly. "Hey, Soraya."

"I’ve got two things to tell you," Soraya began, her tone a little hesitant. "First... remember when I mentioned people talking about Sierra’s hospitalization? Well, about that—" she sighed audibly, "—you told me I could tell anyone who asked, and, uh, a lot of people asked. Like, a lot. This morning, someone made a post about it—just a one-line question, really—but I think it’s spreading. Anyway, I wanted to say, if you see anything online or if it causes trouble, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to turn into a thing. I just... couldn’t tell them to keep it secret. You know what type of people my contacts are and how they are."

Erisia laughed softly, rinsing a glass. "It’s fine, Soraya. I knew this would happen sooner or later. That’s why I said you could tell anyone who asked. Don’t worry—I’m not bothered. If anyone messages me about it, I’ll just ignore them." She paused, smiling. "Honestly, this was part of the plan—to let everyone know. So relax, okay? I’m not mad."

"Really?" Soraya sounded relieved, then brightened. "Good. Because the second thing—oh, this is the good one. Remember the director I told you about yesterday? Leonard Crewe?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I contacted him the minute I got home," Soraya said, her words tumbling out faster now. "Told him about you. He said all you have to do is send your portfolio and he’ll take a look at it."

Erisia froze, the water still running over her fingers. Then a genuine smile bloomed on her face. She leaned toward the phone. "Wait—really? You already contacted him?"

"Of course I did! Why wouldn’t I?" Soraya laughed. "You proved you’ve got the skill—you sent me that acting clip yesterday, remember? I watched it and it was spectacular, Erisia. I’m not exaggerating. You’ve got serious talent, and it’d be criminal to let that go unseen!"

The words sank in, and Erisia’s grin deepened. "Thank you, Soraya."

It wasn’t the first time she’d been praised—Rita said it the day she acted an emotional scene in front of her, and the system occasionally chimed in with encouragement—but hearing it from someone she’d only just made friends with hit differently. Even with Echo’s training simulations and lessons, she’d never truly believed she was that good. She’d watched countless movies, studied actors who could summon entire lifetimes of emotion in a single breath. How could she compare to that? Maybe she was just... better than average.

But now—hearing Soraya’s excitement—something in her chest loosened. This was real. This was joy. Maybe the purest joy she’d felt since waking in this world.

"Please don’t thank me," Soraya protested. "It’s nothing! You’re serious about this, and as your friend—even if we’ve only known each other a short while—I want to help. When I watched your video, I couldn’t contain myself. I immediately asked around for his contact. And honestly? Leonard’s not what I expected. He’s... normal. Weirdly normal. Easy to talk to, at least with me. Though it might be different when he’s in work mode."

Erisia smiled faintly, drying her hands on a towel. "Got it. And I wasn’t just thanking you for contacting the director—I meant it when I said thank you for the compliment. You’re the first person other than Rita to praise my acting, and it means a lot."

"Then let me be the second of many," Soraya said warmly. "Because your talent shouldn’t stay behind closed doors. It deserves to be seen. And if you ever need anything—contacts, information, support—you come to me or Ciara. Actually, Ciara wanted to make a group chat for us. I said no at first, but now I think it’s a great idea. I’ll have her set it up later."

She paused, then added, "You can do this, Erisia. You’re more than talented. You’ve got something people remember."

Erisia’s heart fluttered. "Thank you. I’ll finish the portfolio today, after my chores, and send it by tomorrow. I’ll let you know once I do."

"Perfect. Then good luck, rising star," Soraya teased, her tone light again. "Talk soon."

"Talk soon," Erisia echoed, ending the call.

The kitchen was quiet again except for the faint hum of the fridge and the chatter from the TV in the next room. Erisia stared at the phone for a long moment, her reflection faint in the black screen—eyes bright, lips curved in a small, disbelieving smile.

’It was a good idea to talk to Soraya, wasn’t it?’

[ Yes, it was. Does this mean you won’t inform Cassian Rowe? ]

’I will. He’s a good guy—constantly calling to ask about my situation and all. And I’ll need his manager’s help for some things anyway.’

...

The process of making an acting portfolio was easy and complicated at the same time. It was essentially an actor’s visual résumé—the first impression that casting directors got. It showed what the actor looked like on camera, how naturally they could emote, and whether their presence held attention. It consisted of three key elements: the headshots, the acting reel, and a short bio or résumé.

Erisia decided on a short bio. The acting reel would be about two minutes long—she felt thirty seconds was far too brief to show real range.

For the headshot, she’d done her research online. Rita helped her style her hair into a sleek, low bun that bared her shoulders. A touch of nude makeup softened her features and highlighted her cheekbones, while the off-shoulder white jumpsuit she wore made her skin glow in the warm afternoon light.

They chose a corner of her room where the wall was plain—a soft, cool gray. Sunlight streamed through the half-drawn curtains, scattering across the floor and washing the wall in pale gold. Erisia set up her phone—her recently bought, latest Apple model—on the tripod. She adjusted the height, tilted the lens slightly downward, and tested the focus.