Open To Love

Casting Call.

Better turn me loose, better set me free. Because I'm hot, young, running free, a little bit better than I used to be.
I'm alive, Live Wire!
Mötley Crüe.

February 1981.
Westridge Community College.

Hmm. Look at that little brunette getting out of her old Pinto. Even in that ugly uniform, she's gorgeous. Must be a nursing student or something. Heh, she just smiled at me. I should talk to her. Maybe she'll be special. Ahh, fuck it. That's for later. Back to show-business...

"Nick, here's the storyboards for Wheels Of Fortune. Did you talk to Diane about being in it?"

My best friend and film class partner grimaced, then laid out the crude drawings on his 1969 Chevelle's fiberglass hood. "Yeah, Ray. Unfortunately, she thought I was hitting on her, and said no."

"Nick, were you hitting on her?"

  "Well, yeah. Kind of."

I had little sympathy. We had enlisted two attractive girls to be in our past film class projects, and I had treated them professionally, even though they played my love interests. Being able to separate my desires from acting and directing had surprised both Nick and I, yet it had come naturally.

The girls had kindly volunteered their time, performed well under our directions, then left without any fuss. Lecturing him on dating matters felt odd, as he usually chastised me, with good reason. "Nick, there's only a handful of pretty girls who can and will act the part. You can try to date the other thousands on campus or at your church."

He shot back with, "Give me a break, Ray. Look, I got my neighbor Annabel to be Girl Number One, and she was perfect in her scene. That scowl she put on when you ask her on a date? Brutal. And let's not forget..."

I high-fived him. "Fuck, yeah. Annabel's superb tits. Good job on telling her to wear that tight shirt. Finding the right camera angle to make them both look the same size was tricky, but I think she'll like how hot they appear on film. Alright, I'll see if I can get someone for the Girl Number Two part."

Nick poked me in the ribs, and I knew what was coming. "How about your girlfriend, Francesca? You can stand on a box when we shoot."

At a rail-thin, six-feet tall, my platinum-haired classmate wouldn't look too out of place hugging or kissing me at the film's conclusion, if not for the thick-heeled work boots she favored. However, casting free-spirited and perpetually-stoned Francesca had many other drawbacks.

First off, she might be dead...

"Nick, she's not my girlfriend. I know I talked about her all the time, but we only went out once, a couple of weeks ago. I actually haven't seen her anywhere since then."

"Wait. So you fucked a beautiful model, then she disappeared? That seems... sketchy on your part, Ray. Ahh, well. She was kind of crazy."

A little, yeah. I still really liked Francesca. She was special. I wonder what happened to her...

"Okay, Nick. Forget about Francesca. You have in mind a librarian-type girl, right? Average height and light enough for me to lift? I'll see what I can find."

He nodded, then pencilled in some changes to the storyboards. "What do you think? Can we get away with building a miniature car from cardboard, or does it need to be sheet metal?"