Will the Real Abi Sanders Please Stand Up? Read Online Free

red-striped sofa crammed against the opposite wall. “Danny will be with you as soon as he can.”
    “Thanks.”
    “The bathroom is through the double doors, first door on the right,” she adds as I walk away.
    The bathroom is in the same state of disrepair as the rest of the place. There’s an old white sink with green stains down the back from where water has dripped, and the taps look so rusty, it wouldn’t surprise me if they didn’t turn at all. The room isn’t dirty. Just old. I don’t know what I expected for a film studio but not something like this. Then again, Bill did say Zodiac is an indie studio—which it would have to be, being located in Nebraska of all places—so they won’t have the money they do for the big blockbuster Hollywood movies.
    I glance at my reflection in the cracked mirror. Big mistake. My skin’s devoid of any color. I pinch my cheeks a few times, and they become pinker. If only I could fix my pounding heart so easily. Some more deep breathing may do the trick. I often do deep breathing before matches, to get myself in the zone.
    After a few more minutes, and feeling calmer than before, I go back to the reception. Just in time, because as soon as I push open the door, the old woman speaks.
    “Here she is. Abi, this is Danny.”
    Danny’s so tall I have to strain my neck to look up at him. He must be close to seven feet. The opposite of Bill, who I can look square in the eye since he’s only about five feet six. Danny’s six-pack shows through his dark red tee. He must work out for hours every day. He’s not even that young. Looks about the same age as Dad, and he’s forty-five.
    He strides over to meet me.
    “Hello, Abi. Good to meet you.” He smiles, and it doesn’t come off as cheesy and fake like a stereotypical Hollywood producer—it lights up his whole face. He holds out his hand for me to shake, leaning down slightly in the process.
    “H-h-hi.” I shake his hand and curse inside my head for not even managing to get one word out without stuttering. I draw in some deep breaths without being too obvious to try and calm myself down.
    “I don’t know what Bill told you, but we need a stunt double for Tilly to start ‘yesterday,’ since our original girl injured herself. She’s done a lot of the more difficult stunts, but we still have quite a few choreographed fight scenes left. Bill has told me great things about you. His star student.” He grins. I smile back weakly. “Right. Let’s get started.” He rubs his hands together. “Is Studio One okay, Jean?” Danny calls over to the old woman, or Jean, as I now know her. She glances down.
    “For the next forty-five minutes, then Dave wants it.”
    “Thanks, we should be out by then. C’mon Abi.”
    I follow Danny through the double doors and down a long corridor. Eventually, we get to Studio One. It’s smaller than I’d imagined and is bare except for five cameras surrounding the big wooden floor. There’s a guy standing beside one of the cameras.
    “Make yourself at home,” Danny says after introducing me to the camera guy. “Take five minutes to warm up.”
    “O-o-okay.”
    I go to the back of the studio floor and take off my shoes and jeans. Underneath, I wore my black leggings, as roundhouse and axe kicks are too hard to do in jeans. Not that I know whether he wants me to do any. I just wanted to be prepared.
    I begin to relax while I’m doing my warm-up stretching exercises. It’s just like being in class. I can do this.
    I glance up and see Danny talking to the camera guy, who then wheels the camera to about three feet away from me.
    “Ignore us,” Danny says. “We’re just setting up. Tell us once you’ve finished, and we’ll start recording.”
    That’s easier said than done. How am I expected to ignore them when they’re so close. As in, in my bubble close?
    I pull my right arm across my chest, stretching my triceps and shoulder muscles. I take my time warming up, and not just because