Tiffany Through the Screen

We sit on the newly purchased white couch and stare at the flatscreen mounted on the wall. It’s been a lazy night after a long day of shopping, and takeout containers sit, dirty, on the dining table.

“So, what do you look for in a man?” the late-night host asks,

Tiffany smiles. She’s dressed in a dark red blouse, modest but enticing, her black hair tumbling down to frame her girlish face. The host places a hand over Tiffany’s arm.

It’s an action that evokes a twinge of jealousy, a kind of protectiveness that makes me want to shout Stop! She’s mine, but I know I’ve got no right to do that. Instead, I look over to Ella Sue, who is engrossed in the show. She has her hands propped under her chin, giving the screen an intense stare that absorbs every detail in the scene.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Tiffany Najbreit responds. “He’s got to be someone special. A whole lot of charm, some brain on the side… But a little bit of muscle doesn’t hurt, either!” She tosses her head back and laughs, glancing at the camera. It’s enough to make a man watching on the other side get ideas and somehow, she makes it look genuine.

Maybe it is genuine.

“You wanna be her first boyfriend, you got to bulk up,” Ella Sue says, nudging me with her elbow.

“What? I never said I wanted anything of the sort,” I say defensively. “And also, I definitely remember her going out with some Eric guy. So I wouldn’t be her first boyfriend anyways.”

“But you’d be her first,” Ella Sue says, raising her eyebrows at me, and I roll my eyes.

“No way she’s publicly commented on her virginity,” I say, glancing at her again.

Secretly, of course, I know exactly which interview it was seven months ago that Tiffany gave in which she insinuated as much, but… I can’t exactly let Ella Sue know that I know that.

“I mean, she’s never explicitly said as much, but there has been hints,” Ella Sue says.

Tiffany covers her mouth as she laughs at some host the joke made, eyes twinkling into the camera, and I sit there, enraptured by her dark eyes for a moment.

“Tell you what,” Ella Sue quickly says. “I’ll introduce the two of you once I make it big, put in a good word for you! Who knows, you might even strike it lucky!”

“You know, you’re so sincere that I have trouble telling when you’re being sarcastic,” I say, finally pulling my attention away from the screen.

She stares at me, confused for a brief moment, and then slightly wounded, and it’s then that I realise that she was being sincere. So then the hurt was…

“Shit, I didn’t mean to suggest that you wouldn’t make it big. Look, Charlize Theron argued with a bank teller and scored the attention of her agent that way. Hollywood is full of opportunities! And with your talent, I’m sure you’ll be giving these interviews in no time,” I backtrack rapidly, gesturing at the flatscreen, where Tiffany is now relating some anecdote about being on set for her latest film.

“That’s not… well, she’s Charlize Theron,” Ella Sue says awkwardly.

She picks up the remote and shuts the television off. All of a sudden, the snappy dialogue and the laughter of the audience is cut out, and we sit in silence. We both stare at the black screen, and I swear I can still see the afterimage of Tiffany’s smile there.

“You really think I can make it?” Ella Sue asks, after a long pause.

I wait some seconds before answering, not because I’m deliberating, but to make it seem like I’m actually considering her question. The correct answer is obvious.

“Of course I do,” I say.

She nods to herself, that apparently all the assurance she needed.

“Thanks that… means a lot to me,” she says. She pulls out her phone, and then glances at me. “I’ve um… found an open casting call for tomorrow. Do you mind if I practice my lines in front of you? I think I do better when I have an audience, and I’d like to get your reaction if you don’t mind…”

“Yeah, I can do that,” I say. “I can’t stay up too late tonight though—my surgery starts early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh right, totally forgot about that, I can practice alone,” Ella Sue starts to say, but I shake my head.

“No, no, do your lines,” I say. “Let’s see if I can figure out what role it is that you’re playing.”

She quirks an eyebrow at that. She moves to speak, pauses, cuts herself off, and then shakes her head. Her phone gets placed to the side. She straightens her shoulders. A deep breath. Ella Sue transforms into somebody else, and memorised lines roll off her tongue.