"what is it, bree?" 
"i . . . i sent in an application in for an audition," i get out. "it was a competitive audition, and they were only going to follow up with a few people for a secondary audition for this role. and i've just been asked back for an in-person audition!" 
i can hear the smile in chris's voice. "seriously? bree, good for you! that's huge!" 
i had shared a basic level of detail to chris and his brothers about my aspirations as an actress. i didn't outline all of the failure i've had in the past or dive deep into any of my personal insecurities surrounding it, but they are likely able to piece enough together from my 0 acting roles and barista-ing. thankfully, though, none of them ever make fun of me for it, not even chris. if anything, they're actually pretty supportive. 
i let out a happy breath. "thanks! i mean, these in-person auditions will be even more competitive, but . . . i'm really happy about this." 
happy is kind of an understatement. it's not just about finally getting a big chance to land a role, because it's not just any role: it's my dream role. the producers are ones i've been following for years, and the character i'm auditioning for is exactly the type of person i want to play. it's a tv series, too, which is even better. i don't know a lot about it yet, but from what i've been allowed to know, it sounds so interesting and everything i've been hoping for. and if (i know it's a big 'if', but still) i manage to get the role, i'd be playing one of the main characters! i just— ahh! i can hardly contain my excitement! 
chris says, "you'll definitely crush it." 
i'm beaming so wide my cheeks hurt. "thanks, chris." 
"if you ever need help practicing your lines, you know who to call." 
i laugh. "i'll keep that in mind." 
"good. hey seriously, i'm happy for you. i think they'd be stupid not to cast you." 
i casually point the camera away from my face to hide the incoming blush. when chris says things like that, so sweet . . . it makes my face heat up. i remember my earlier thoughts and quickly compose myself. 
"i don't know about that, but thanks anyways." 
"keep me updated." 
my heart skips a beat. "i will." 
i turn the corner, and my apartment building comes into view. i glance back at chris through my screen. wow. his eyes are so blue. 
"well, i'm just walking up to my building now. i'll talk to you later?" 
"yeah, for sure. thanks for the advice, and congrats again on that audition." 
"thank you!" 
"see you later." 
"see you!"
i hang up the phone and slide it back into my pocket. 
thoughts of chris and of my upcoming audition battle to take the spotlight in my brain. for my own sanity, i focus on the latter. 
obviously, i am beyond excited. the list of good things surrounding this opportunity is endless. but at the same time, a larger agency with more competition will probably lessen my chances of getting the role. if i can't even get into small productions, how am i supposed to do this . . . ?
i shake my head. let's not be negative here. out of hundreds of people, i am among the select few who got contacted for a follow-up. that's pretty huge. who knows what will happen? 
the follow-up audition is still a few weeks away, which will give me plenty of time to prepare. 
and maybe take chris up on his offer to practice lines. 
- 
i put away my groceries, call georgia to tell her about the audition, and then i call my mom. 
i tell her all about the audition, and she's just as excited about it as i am. we talk about the details for a couple of minutes, before she finally asks, "so, you won't be coming home for the summer, then?" 
this question has been weighing on my mind for awhile. originally, i had given myself until the end of the month to decide. with chris and georgia and nick and matt, the thought of going back home to kentucky felt pretty awful. especially with the main thing that would inevitably follow me back home: everyone knowing that i'm failing at my career. going home meant being desperate and unsuccessful, but would it be the right decision with my dwindling funds? 
now though, with this audition, i have an excuse to stay in L.A. a good one, too: i can't really be in kentucky since the follow-up is in-person. L.A it is, then. 
still, i will miss my family a lot. i'm still planning on going home to visit, but i know my mom would have been happy to have me for the whole summer. 
"i'm sorry," i say. "i think i'll have to stay here. i'll visit of course, but it just makes the most sense . . ." 
"bree, don't feel bad. i'll miss you, but i'll see you again soon. i am so proud of you." 
without warning, tears prick my eyes. moms have the most uncanny ability to be proud of their kids, no matter the circumstances. i've barely accomplished anything since moving out here, and yet she's still proud of me. 
"thanks, mom." 
"we're all rooting for you! i can't wait to hear how it goes!" 
we talk for a few more minutes before finally ending the call. 
i take a shower as soon as we hang up. i let the hot water run for awhile, my thoughts wandering. 
i'm happy that my parents and georgia are excited for me, but i hate the thought of letting them down . . . again. i know i'm not going to be able to live off of my measly savings and barista salary forever, so if this audition doesn't go how i hope, then i might have to consider moving back to kentucky. not just for the summer this time, but for good. 
the thought makes my stomach lurch. i don't resent the state or small town i grew up in, but i knew as soon as i left that i would only return if i failed, and i was determined to make sure that that never happened. but now that it's been a year, that possibility feels closer than ever.
it's not just that. it's georgia, too. my best friend. i would hate to leave her. it's the palm trees, my apartment, the feeling of opportunity. and now, it's matt, nick, and chris. georgia, the triplets: their lives are here in L.A. i can't stand the thought of moving back to kentucky, while their lives go on without me. they belong here. 
i wish i could confidently say that i do too.