The woman with glasses leaned forward. “Renee. Why did you come to LA?”
A door opened. A woman with a headset and the aura of a benevolent dictator scanned a clipboard. “Renee Rose? 24.04.30?” LANewGirl.24.04.30.Renee.Rose.Modeling.Audition...
“Renee,” the woman said. “Welcome to Vanguard. We start shooting your test portfolio Monday. Don’t be late.” The woman with glasses leaned forward
“You’re the last one. Follow me.”
Three weeks ago, she’d been Renee from Boise, stacking shelves at a craft store. Now she was Renee Rose, a name she’d chosen in the fluorescent-lit bathroom of a shared Echo Park apartment. She’d submitted the polaroids—the ones her roommate Leo took with his vintage camera—on a whim. The casting call read: Seeking raw, undiscovered faces. No experience necessary. Authenticity only. she’d been Renee from Boise