[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. “I got a few hours,” Morgan lied before her voice was snuffed out by the hot towel. 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." “I’m sure I’ll get busted any minute,” the girl smiled at the unintelligible muffle of her voice. Rene soon lifted the towel, wiping Morgan’s face one last time before setting to work. Though the character Abby typically shunned makeup and only occasionally brushed her hair, a typical day’s makeup prep still required a good thirty minutes to be camera ready. This morning, Morgan was slated for ninety, a much more detailed treatment for shooting her “Mirror Abby” parts. Wise of Edgar to plunge her straight into the most nerve wracking portion first. 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 Harrison in the chair for a night scene, but I heard it was all B roll…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 from the room, leaving Morgan and her stomach full of butterflies. She pondered these 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, a fantasy sequence which could be the actual choke 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 without thinking. 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. 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 conjoining 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]”Yah conjure sharin’?”[/i] [i]”Sharing?”[/i] she asked the character. [i]”What haven’t I shared?”[/i] She mused over the question. [i]”After I press ‘play,”[/i] Abby’s familiar twang filled her mind’s ear, [i]”yew ain’t give me a shot at la shi ‘til we’s up against tha wall.”[/i] There was no arguing. Morgan knew…felt…the truth of that. A big, surprise dance number in a show that wasn’t big on dance moves. In her worried rush to master Summer’s choreography, Morgan had left the principal element standing outside the dance studio door. Abby, the rough hewn girl to whom this scene belonged, hadn’t been given any say. [i]Sorry, Abby,[/i] Morgan acknowledged her failure as the earbuds came out from her pocket. [i]I’ll fix that right now.[/i] With the deckhand 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.” ”Think you can dance to it?” “Mirror Me?” She could feel a wry smile from Abby. “She’ll be tolerable shiny . But Real Me, wearin’ muh boots an’ day-tah-day? Let’s jest say yer girl Summer’s gon’ have ‘er work cut out when I’m done.” “But…it’s all planned. All set up.” [i]”Best thing ‘bout havin’ a plan,”[/i] Abby quoted one of Cal’s signature lines, [i]”is how well yah can change it. Put reg’lar me up first.”[/i] “Abby, there’s a schedule. Edgar…” Morgan protested as her thumbs began tapping a message into her iPhone. [i][b]Abby wants up 1st. B4 Mirror Abby. That OK?[/b][/i] “God, he must think I’m a spoiled little diva,” Morgan whispered as she and her character awaited the director’s response. They didn’t wait long. [i][b]Splendid.[/b][/i] [i]”I like that fella,”[/i] Abby said. Morgan could feel the smile spreading across Abby’s face. “Me too.”