Chapter 44 A Stage For Anger

• The audition room is larger than I expected — cold, clinical, yet suffocatingly intimate. It’s the kind of space where every flaw feels magnified under the harsh fluorescent lights. My heels click against the polished floor as I follow the casting assistant to the center of the room, the sound unnervingly loud in the silence.
• When I glance toward the table at the back of the room, I falter for a moment, unable to believe my eyes. It’s not common for the director to attend auditions, especially the initial ones. But this isn’t just any role, and Ryan Haymitch isn’t just any director.
• There he is, seated at the far end of a long table, flanked by a handful of others — producers, writers, perhaps studio execs. Haymitch’s presence dominates the room effortlessly. He’s everything I’ve heard and more: piercing eyes that seem to strip you bare, a calm yet calculating air, and an unspoken challenge hanging in the air—prove to me you’re worth it.