dream – the characters
Chapter 1: Backstage
From the time Casi turned seventeen, she had been ‘handled’ by her overbearing stage mother, Sonya, and any agent who took a slight interest in her until outgrowing their ‘image’. At her 7th agency in twelve years, Casi lost count of the places she’d lived, never settling long enough to call anywhere home. A natural beauty from Burnaby, Canada, blessed with fine, classic features, and large hazel eyes. Discovered on Kitsilano beach, Canada; a head-turner in a floral bikini, honey blonde hair swinging past her sun-kissed shoulders. At the time, her name was Cassidy, but the first agency insisted ‘Casi’ sounded edgier. At a casting call, Cassidy discovered she had been downsized by three letters, thanks to her mother’s meddling. She had gotten used to the name, grown into it, in fact.
Casi double-checked her breast tape and took her place behind the curtain. The designer introduced her spring line, and her bold choice for the season, gray. “Shocking!” Casi turned to make eye contact with the girl behind her. Not surprisingly, every single girl had her head down, trapped in the iridescent glow of cell phones. Like dominoes, each person began taking selfies, hash tagging their posts, #model, #the-smell-of-success, #glamor-girl, and #chillin’ backstage. Casi considered herself a pro with all forms of social media and frequently posted to keep socially relevant. She crafted an image of the sexy party girl controlling the situation. Avoiding the stereotypical drunk girl posts, with smudged makeup, tripping down the stairs like an amateur.
Her true self had become magnificently masked, and it was difficult to locate her. With a perfectly scripted, superficial life, Casi was the envy of her peers. Her boyfriend, movie-star handsome, Alix Grey, the charismatic street artist turned famous graphic designer to the ‘in’ crowd was a catch. If you didn’t own a painting, bag, or t-shirt with one of Alix’s designs, you weren’t considered celebrity-chic.
“Three minutes, girls!” belted the overbearing Mary Anderson, more lovingly referred to as Mother Mary, by the models of Beyond Modeling Agency. A dark-skinned, plump woman, of indeterminate age, suspected to be in her fifties, she bustled around the designer showcase preparing them for the catwalk. With the efficiency of a drill sergeant and the tenderness of a mother, Mary consistently produced a bobby pin or tissue, ready to wipe a tear or redirect a negative attitude.