[center][h2]Anthem - (That’s a Wrap, Part 2)[/h2][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/HI5pR87.jpg[/img][/center]

Who needs coffee when you’ve got a 5:00 AM face plunge into ice water?

“Girl,” Rene cocked an eyebrow as she coaxed Morgan from the sink, “tell me you got some sleep last night?”

It was good that the makeup artist didn’t wait for the actor’s first performance of the day.  Morgan’s words immediately snuffed out as a hot towel covered her face.  “I got a few hours,” she lied.

Rene shook her head.  “Mmm, mmm, mmm,”  she placed a judgmental hand upon her hip.  “That mouth says ‘yes,’ but those bags under your eyes say ‘huh uh.’  I’ma tell Summer…she will so give you ‘the look.’  Good thing I brought my bag of tricks."

The girl smiled nervously as she settled back into the chair.  “I’m sure I’ll get busted any minute.”  As Rene set to work her art, Morgan glanced over the swath of photos taped to the mirror.  Summer gazed back, her expression neutral through the series of closeups detailing her makeup.  The two women were a  match for height and body type.  Summer had colored her hair to match Morgan’s reddish hue.   She noted the difference in their faces…Summer’s jawline was a bit more rounded, and Morgan realized that her nose was more of a button, where that of her dance coach and on camera double had more graceful lines.  “How’d she do?” she asked.

Rene pulled back, admiring her work.  “I missed the dailies…had Donald in the chair for a night scene, but I heard Summer rocked it…hmmm.”  She rummaged through her kit, frowning.  “I’m a little short on your base.  Gimme a sec to grab more from the van.”

“Sure.”  The makeup artist dashed out of the room, leaving Morgan and her stomach full of butterflies.  She pondered her fears as the confident eyes of Summer gazed back from the photo set.  [i]It’s not Abby,[/i] the actor mused.  [i]I can wear her like my own skin.  Maybe it’s how this scene connects?  Or how it doesn’t?[/i]   She knew the script, knew the blocking and moves.  She understood the overall surreal nature, which could be the actual sticking point for a girl as grounded as Abigail Travis.  She’d listened to “Pipe Dream” so many times in rehearsals that she could make her marks.   But could Abby?  The character hooks were easily adopted, but for the life of her, Morgan had yet to find ‘that thing’ which would tie this scene directly to the soul of China Doll’s youngest crewmember.

As she sought her answer through Summer’s image, her hip pocket vibrated.  [i]Good thing Rene’s not here,[/i] Morgan smirked at the makeup artist’s “no phones!” rule. She fished the iPhone from the pocket of her sweats, then blanched when she saw Edgar’s name on the text.

[b][i]When I listen to the lyrics, I hear a young woman discovering her personal anthem.  What does Abby hear?  E.[/i][/b]

Morgan knew them by heart.  She’d pored over the lyrics, industriously saddling important words and phrases with Summer’s precise choreography.  She’d done the work, graduating from the timed mechanics to the addition of more graceful, fluid efforts.  The music flowed through her.

As was often the case, Abby’s observations could knock her right off her pins.  [i]”I ain’t heard no words.”[/i]

Morgan’s jaw fell open.  After these months…the absolute immersion to give this character a living, breathing persona…she’d totally left Abby’s feelings out of the scene altogether.  She’d failed in her job as an actor…more important, as a host to this character.  [i]Sorry, Abby,[/i] she gave silent reply as the earbuds came out from her pocket.  [i]I’ll fix that right now.[/i]

With Abby settling into her skin once more, Morgan called the song onto her phone.  For the first time, they shared the music, listening together as the lyrics struck home.

[i]”Well if it feels good then do it,
Don’t let nobody shake you down…”[/i]

The music pulsed through them.  A smile rose to Morgan’s lips.  “What do you think?” she asked.

Abby’s head bobbed gently as she listened. “Yeah,” she answered.  “I cotton tah this.”