Career Comeback ch 1

Tyler Dalton checked his teeth in the bathroom mirror, confirming again that he didn’t have anything between his pearly whites. “Alright, Ty, we got this. We’re leagues better than them!” He told himself before he stepped out of the bathroom and walked into the waiting room with the two dozen other male actors rehearsing their lines. ‘Hm poor guys.’ He thought, ‘They all think this’ll be their big shot but I’m here.’

Tyler, like the other twenty and up men in the room, were actors. Or they hoped to be one after today. Tyler had an advantage. He’d already been to the big show. He had been an actor longer than he could remember. Though his parents still had the original baby food commercial he had starred in at six months old stored away somewhere in their closet. After a few more food and toy commercials he was cast as the infant son on ‘Danny’s Dad.’ A family sitcom about a talking baby and his single father. That show only lasted until “Danny” was actually able to talk. After that it somehow lost its magic.

Almost immediately Tyler was in a new family sitcom as the sassy adopted son of a lesbian couple. For its time it was heralded as being very progressive with a sweet family message. Everyone loved him for his catchy one-liners and his mischievous smile. He himself was called a genius talent to surpass the Olsen twins. But that was eight years ago.

“Ty Dalton?” A large woman with a clipboard stood at the door.

“That’s me.” He stood quickly and followed the woman who had already left.

Tyler stood in front of the casting director, the writer, and the director. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He took a few deep breaths as he called upon his years of experience before beginning, “My dad used to be a funny and happy man. My kids loved their grandpa. But lately…” he frowned deeply, “he’s been nervous, distracted, and he just doesn’t want to play with the kids.” his frown switched immediately to a smile, “But then his doctor introduced him to speed-lax and now he’s back to his old self. The kids are happy to have their grandpa back. And I’m just happy to see my old man isn’t a grumpy old man anymore.”

“Cut.” The director in the center turned to the large woman and whispered something before whispering to the thin man beside him. The camera continued to run, recording how he reacted to being forced to wait. They no doubt hoped to get another Ty Dalton freakout video. But he wouldn’t give it to them this time. Instead he watched the androgynous boy on camera, he knew anywhere else and his looks would be the object of ridicule but in Hollywood his thin waist, wide hips, and narrow shoulders actually were things most actors or aging boy band members wished they had naturally. Although he knew he didn’t come by his looks naturally, who in this town did? His skin was smooth and perfect like his blonde hair though he would soon have to dye his hair before his roots started showing again. He may be shorter than most men his age but he didn’t let that bother him like it would have for most men his age. He wasn’t like them, he was smarter and just better in general. His lack of height actually opened up more roles for him since he could pass for sixteen naturally, with the right makeup and lighting he could push for younger if he pitched his voice just right. This role however, his youthful looks and short height would apparently prove to be a hindrance.

“Is he really twenty-four?” he heard the writer who barely whispered to the director. “Too young to drive let alone have kids.”

“Ty Dalton…” the director responded softly, “Throw a chair at Melanie Sarron?”

“...crashed his car…”

“Thank you.” The casting director said curtly.

“Yeah. No problem.” He kept his smile on his face as he walked out of another failed audition and called an uber to take him to his next audition.

The only thing Hollywood loves more than famous people are the scandals and rumors that surround them. Child actors like himself were no exception. One director had enough and slammed him in a hit piece in teen vogue, claiming he was unhinged and aggressive on set and threw a chair at one of the actresses. What’s worse is he claimed Tyler was a horrific actor that coasted on his good looks. He hadn’t thrown a chair. He kicked it over during an argument with Melanie and one of the writers on the show. He couldn’t even remember the argument, but Hollywood didn’t forget. They also didn’t forget how he crashed a car that didn’t belong to him a year later. His career hadn’t completely tanked at that point which kept him out of prison but the damage dealt to his career was beyond repair. Tabloid photos of the accident went viral, opening him back up to ridicule from critics who took great pleasure in reminding the world that Ty Dalton couldn’t be a washed up actor since he was no “actor” in the first place. He was a cute face with a nice smile and nothing more.

Kristen Dalton swept the last bit of trash out of the kitchen left over from Tyler’s latest attempt at making food for himself. Kristen loved her brother as any forgotten younger sister might but hated what a slob he was. She didn’t think of herself as a “clean freak” as he often called her, he just hated living in a landfill. She managed to keep her area clean but that was easy when she slept on an unpulled out, pullout couch. Tyler owned the apartment. Technically. So it made sense he had the bedroom.

More technically speaking his former agent bought it for him in Tyler’s name as a parting gift before he too had abandoned him to the “pedestrian life.” as Tyler often said. “Hey.” Tyler said as he threw a messenger bag onto the couch, spilling sheets of paper all over the freshly cleaned floor.

“Tyler, come on dude.”

“What?” He looked at the mess he made, “Oh yeah. I’ll get that before I go to bed.” He lied. She knew he was lying. He never picked up after himself! It also didn’t help that her bedtime was at the latest around eleven and Tyler’s was…whenever he passed out.

“I take it the audition didn’t go well?” She asked, already picking up the discarded papers.

“They at least said thanks this time.” He twisted the cap off his beer and tried to flick the cap into the trash can, missing by a mile. “But no. I don’t think I’m gonna be ‘drunken college number four’, ‘Man with cold,’ or ‘Son of constipated man’.”

“That sucks, although”–she glared angrily as Tyler threw his feet up on the glass coffee table that acted as her desk–“I still don’t get why they’d make a commercial from the point of view of the son of the man with constipation.”

“Youth sells. Old guys who can’t poop don’t.”

“But he’s the one with the problem.”

“I…forget it.” He waved her off, “What’ve you been up to today?”

“I had lit and my professor, you remember?”

“No.” He swallowed a mouthful of beer.

“Sure you do, you said she looked like Lucille Ball on steroids?”

“...no.” He shrugged. He couldn’t understand why his sister wanted to write poetry. That was for homely girls and emo boys in skinny jeans. She was pretty enough that if she wore more than a basic amount of makeup and her work or school clothes she could…well maybe not a model but she could work some clubs and she’d make in a night what she took to make in a week. Hell her chest was somewhere around Cs if he had to guess. They weren’t huge but big enough that some idiots might think he’d get to see them if he tipped enough. She always wore flats, or sneakers, if she wore some heels she could make even more just being a waitress at a strip club or something. She wouldn’t have to dance on the pole like the other failed actresses but with her red hair and slim waist they wouldn’t have to struggle with money anymore.

“Anyway she read my poetry and she said it was good enough to be-”

“Hey, what’s this?” he interrupted, grabbing at a stack of mail underneath his feet.

“You’ve got mail.”

“What’s it about?”

“How should I know? I’m not your secretary.” Tyler tore open the envelope as Kristen continued, “So anyway, she said it was good enough to be submitted to Kingsley Tufts’-”

“What the hell?! My SAG insurance expired?!”

“That’s not surprising. You haven’t worked in two years.”

“Eighteen months. But still, I need that insurance.”

“It’s gonna be okay. You’ll get work soon. But hey I can talk to Jasper. We can always use more hands.”

“Not funny, Kris. I’m not gonna flip burgers like some has-been.”

“I don’t flip burgers. I’m a waitress on salary. Jasper is a great b-”

“Even worse! You want me to wait tables like some wannabe actor? No. I’m an actor. I just gotta find a job that’ll let me prove it again.” He desperately grabbed the stack of papers, discarding the small commercial scripts and studying the call sheets.

Between the papers and his phone Kristen knew her brother would not be paying attention to anything else. “I’ll bring us some dinner after work.” She said quietly and picked up the papers.

Several hours later, Kristen returned to her shared apartment with several takeout containers in a bag. Her brother still hunched over the coffee table, more sheets scattered haphazardly at his feet and no sign he moved let alone ate or bathed. He didn’t respond to her greeting or her call to him that dinner was served. She finished her dinner at the table alone and replaced his portion in the containers and into the fridge. “Tyler. Ty. Ty.” She shook his shoulder gently. “I gotta go to sleep.”

Tyler stood quickly, “Ha! I got it!” he yelled, holding his phone up in triumph!

“What?”

“The perfect job! They’re looking for adults who can play teenagers.”

“Why?”

“Wha-insurance probably-who the fuck cares I fit the bill exactly! Barry said I could still play as young as fourteen with the right makeup!”

“Ba-you haven’t heard from Barry in two years!” Her brother was shorter than her, not something too uncommon at her five foot eight, and his five foot six, she would just chalk it up to bad genetics but she knew her parents had given him something to keep him looking prepubescent for years. She could never prove it, and they wouldn’t admit it, but she suspected Barry was the one supplying the mysterious cocktail to their parents.

“So, I still look good!” Tyler grabbed his sister’s hands and spun her around in an impromptu dance, “Come on we should celebrate! How much money do we have? Fuck it, use the credit card! I’ll pay you back. Hell! I’ll give you half my first check.”

“Really?” She looked up at her brother’s bright smile.

“Damn right!” His smile sparkled as he happily danced around his sister. He wasn’t so blind he didn’t know how much she did for him and how hard she’d worked just to keep herself afloat let alone Tyler. “Dance with me, woman!” He grabbed her arms and pulled them back and forth until she started laughing.

Kristen didn’t know anything about acting, or being an actor, but Tyler was one of those people whose mood just infected you. When he smiled, she couldn’t help but smile

“Whoa you don’t have it yet!” She was happy for her brother but one of them had to keep a level head.

“Oh please, I’ve got this in the bag.” Tyler was too busy dancing by himself to notice Kristen had taken his phone and was scanning the online call sheet.

“Uh, there’s a couple problems with the bag.”

“Don’t rain on my parade, sis.” he did some odd variation of the twist as he tried to ignore her as he often did when he was too happy for common sense.

“Anyway, isn’t this the director who made up those stories about you?” She knew not all of them were made up, but still it was her brother.

“Malcolm Gordon?!” He stopped dancing.

“Yeah.”

He paused for a moment before something seemed to dawn on him, “He’s such an egomaniac he probably won’t even recognize me. I can use a fake name and makeup! Then when I get the role he’ll have to admit I’m a real actor! Then he can kiss my ass and beg me to save his show again!”

“That’s the other thing. The call is for girls. Not boys.”

“What?!”

Tyler snatched the phone and read the sheet fully for the first time. Kristen watched her brother’s happiness deflate in front of her, “You can always go as a girl.” she laughed nervously.

“What?” He glared at her.

“Y-yeah. Go as a girl and when he wants to hire you then you can really rub it in his face. Right?” She continued to laugh, hoping her brother would join her and laugh at her ridiculous idea and regain at least part of his happier mood.

“Do you think this is a joke?!” He yelled, squeezing the phone in his hand. “This is my career and you’re making a joke about it?!”

“Not really I-

“Shut the fuck up! In fact…get out of my house!”

“I wasn’t making fu-”

“Why are you still here?!”

“I’m sorry I was just trying-”

“I don’t give a fuck what you were trying to do! I want you and your shitty poetry gone!” Tyler kicked the chair over, shattering the glass in the coffee table, as he stormed into his room still screaming obscenities at Kristen, Malcom, and everyone else. “Fucking wannabes and hangers on! I’m so sick of all of you!” Kristen sighed and walked to the closet and took out a broom to sweep up the glass. Tyler continued ranting late into the night. He even woke Kristen up some time after midnight when he retrieved the dinner she brought for him, still angrily cursing out Malcolm.

Kristen knew he didn’t mean it when he threw her out. He told her to leave at least three times a year over something or other. He would be silent for the next couple of days, pretending like she was gone until finally he apologized when he realized if she left he would truly be alone. Their parents had left after the suit paid out when he crashed their car. A car they had bought with his money. They claimed they were tired of his antics and being mistreated by him but both she and Tyler knew better. He was no longer their cash cow and they wanted to get out while they could.

The next couple of days, as predicted he silently took food from her when offered but ultimately he ignored her, preferring instead to stay on his phone or rushing off to auditions. One morning she woke up and was surprised to see he was gone. She wished she could say she was surprised when she found out he had taken her credit card from her purse. The last time he stole money he had gone on a bender. “Ty…jesus don’t be stupid!” She called his phone. Her heart froze when it went directly to voicemail.

“Kelsey?” Tyler asked his reflection as he held up a long green dress. “Nah.” He tossed the dress aside and picked up a small tartan skirt. “Sally?” He wondered. “Ugh no.” He threw the skirt into the same pile he threw the dress. Tyler had been up all night, searching for roles but he kept coming back to Malcolm’s call. He hated the man, he didn’t want to help his career anymore than he already had, but the prospect of having the man who destroyed his life groveling at his feet was too tempting to resist. But how could he even get an audition? He spent hours wondering until finally he had a brilliant idea. He could dress like a girl! He had feminine enough features, he was short enough, all he needed was some makeup and to tweeze his eyebrows and no one would ever know. Sure it’d be a little humiliating but the end result would have him back on top again! And besides, real actors put their bodies through hell for roles. He only needed to wear a skirt for an hour.

After getting some money from Kristen he went to the nearest salon, he had his hair styled, his eyebrows tweezed, and he had selected the girliest color he could find for his nails. Bubblegum pink. It reminded him of his days on set being pampered and fawned over like he deserved. “Soon…Karen? Oh god no.” He threw the ankle length denim skirt away with a shudder. The makeup girl made sure to find a lipstick that matched his new nails and an eyeshadow she claimed was versatile and cute since she was told he hadn’t picked out an outfit yet. A stray thought crossed his mind and he checked his phone. “Oops.” He laughed and turned it back on. “Oh fuck!” He swore loudly seeing the time. The audition ended in forty-five minutes and he was still looking for clothes!

He ran out of the mall quickly, his pink tennis skirt fluttering around his thighs, and jumped into the waiting Uber he called for. “Ty Dalton?”

Tyler swore mentally, forgetting how his customer photo looked versus how he looked now with his silk smooth legs, painted nails, pixie haircut, and the white top with the word “Babydoll” in pink script over his enhanced chest. “Uh, legally speaking.”

The man shrugged, she clearly worked on her voice as she effortlessly spoke like any teenage girl. This wasn’t the first trans teenager or crossdresser to hop into his prius that didn’t look like their picture. More than half the time they would forget to change their photo, so he learned not to ask questions that might embarrass them on what was potentially their first time out. Instead, he asked what he always asked girls like Ty, “Where to ma’am?” Tyler handed over his phone with the address and the driver headed out.

Fifty minutes later, Tyler shouted at the driver to pull over. “My god!” He shouted as he kicked open the rear passenger door, “I could’ve walked here faster!”

“Hey! You still gotta pay!” The annoyed driver held his phone out with a small portable card reader attached.

“For real?! Ugh!” Tyler quickly ran the card and made sure no tip was included before handing it back, “There. And if I could give you less than one star I would!” He kicked the passenger door closed and ran off. The driver, swearing about entitled wannabe actresses as he drove off to his next and hopefully much nicer pickup.

The delay hadn’t been the driver’s fault, a wreck on one road meant slower traffic due to more cars on another. It was simply how it worked. But Tyler was still angry and late. He could only hope that it, like most castings, started late and ended later than intended! Tyler's run slid to a stop too late as he crashed into a man hurriedly carrying binders under one arm and two coffees in both hands. The coffees spilled over both men. Luckily for both they were iced so only their shirts would suffer. “Son of a bitch!” Tyler’s voice cracked.

“I’m so sorry, you just came out of nowhere.”

“I was in a hurry to get to this audition! That’s cold!” Tyler shuddered as he shook his now damp and stained top before twisting it in a knot to wring out the majority of the freezing liquid, unaware he was giving the guy a view of his flat tummy and what looked like cleavage to the young male as he dug an ice cube out of the purple bra.

“I’m sorry, I’ll pay for your dry cleaning.” He watched with a smile as his hands attempted to pull papers into binders that were both scattered on the ground without missing the show.

“I just bought it.” He said, trying to wave off the completely useless stranger. What did he care if the shirt he bought in a panic was cleaned or not?

“I’ll buy you a new one then, it’s the least I can do.” He looked at one of the sheets in his hand. A name had been partially written before being scratched out, but the rest of the sheet was filled out with the unknown girl’s talents and skills along with her birth date. Quick math told him she was at least twenty-one. Safe enough for him to turn on his charms.

“I suppose it is.” Tyler took the man’s hand to stand and dusted himself off, “Shit.” Tyler hissed as he struck his knee. It was a minor scrape from when his bare knee hit the pavement as he tumbled but there was definitely blood now pouring into his matching pink flats. The box called them ballet flats? But they were pink and girly enough, they should have done the job but they were half a size too big, making them loose, and they didn’t have the treds like his sneakers did. ‘How do girls run in these?’

“We should get that seen too.”

“I’ll be fine.” He frowned as he looked at his shoes.

“You’re just not gonna let me apologize are you?” The guy laughed.

“Huh? Oh…sure, do you have a first aid kit?” he asked sarcastically, hoping that would be the end of their prolonged conversation.

The man smirked, “As a matter of fact, I do.” Tyler had to admit he was not prepared for that answer.

“...If it’ll put a stop to this, sure.”

The man smiled, “Cole.” He extended a hand.

“...Tabitha.” He said after a moment before shaking Cole’s hand.

A few people populated the halls, but judging by their attire they were no one of importance to him. Tyler grumbled as he was led through the very building he had been racing towards. He didn’t recognize anyone as a potential producer or even see Malcolm, not that he wanted him to see him like this. It was one thing to show up in a perfect disguise, but to be seen like this? A total disaster? That would only prove everything he said about Tyler and showcase how desperate he was for work.

Cole stopped at a large semi-circular desk and started rummaging through drawers. “It’s in here somewhere.” He said more to himself. Tyler, or Tabitha, read the small plaque on the opposite door, he was only two rooms from where he had wanted to be. While Cole continued looking, Tyler slowly slunk down the hall until he found the designated room. Twisting the knob cautiously he opened the door and peered inside. Empty. Every single chair in the room was vacant. He missed his shot. The only one remaining was an old man picking up crumpled up paper from those who no doubt failed their audition as well. “Hey, there you are.” Cole walked up to Tabitha, holding a small first aid kit. “Why’d you run off?”

“...I was…trying to make it to this audition but I ran out of time trying to find the right outfit and then…”–he gestured to his stained shirt still tied in a tight knot– “you know the rest.”

Cole frowned, “I’m really sorry about that. Are you an actress?”

“Trying to be.”

“...Let’s get you fixed up okay?”

“Sure.” Tyler pouted as he was led back to the half-circle desk.

Cole gently spread the cream on the skint knee. Tyler winced, “Sorry about that.” He blew on the cream, sending Tyler’s body sprouting a myriad of goosebumps across his legs. Cole smiled up at Tabitha, catching a glimpse of her panties as he put the bandaid on her knee. One of the other things Tyler chose to see as a benefit was that whatever stunted his development also meant he didn’t grow body hair quickly and when he did it was barely noticeable. His leg was currently hairless, having shaved nearly two months ago for an audition for swimwear. “There we go, all better.”

“Not quite.” Tyler shrugged.

Cole knew how important things like clothes and their appearance was to women and just felt awful he had ruined her day. Clearing his throat he smiled, “I still wish I could do more to make it up to you.” Without waiting for a response Cole continued, “I know, let me buy you dinner.”

“I’m not exactly dressed for dinner. And really I just want to get out of these ruined clothes.”

“Tomorrow night then.”

Tyler was about to reject him for the final time before he would storm out and curse the day, but a large man built like a brick wall approached the desk, “Mr.Gordon? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Dex.” Cole said as he stood, grabbing up the binders from the countertop.

“Gordon? I thought you said your name was Cole.”

“It is. Well, it’s Colton Gordon but everyone calls me Cole. You didn’t think my name was just Cole did you?” He asked with a light chuckle to his voice.

“It is Hollywood.” Tyler stood and followed the two men out of the building.

“Fair enough. Do you have a last name, Miss Tabitha?”

Tyler froze, he had spent most of the morning coming up with a first name he hadn’t considered a last name, “Just Tabitha. For now. ” Tyler showed off his trademark smirk and fluttered his eyelashes. The thought sickened him but he knew that name, or at least his father’s last name. Colton Gordon was the son of Malcolm Gordon. He may have missed the audition but he wasn’t about to miss out on this opportunity, even if it meant having dinner with this guy. ‘Hey, free food.’ He added mentally.

“You’re gonna make me work for it, huh?”

“Depends on how well dinner goes.” Tyler’s stomach turned but his playful smile never faltered.

Cole smirked, “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Shouldn’t you ask for my number first?”

Cole took a sheet from the top of his binder and handed it back to Tyler, “One step ahead of you.” It was a risk, admitting he had taken the time to add her number into his phone from her resume, but she didn’t strike him to be like those girls who wanted to be sweet talked off their feet. She liked the game as much as he did. But she would find out he played it so much better than she would expect.

Tyler froze as he quickly scanned the resume. He was grateful at least he scratched out his real name, even if he had listed his address and phone number as his own. But there was nothing that could connect the newly formed Tabitha to Tyler. “Heh, clever boy.” He smiled and swallowed the bile.

“Eight it is.” Cole stood beside a small town car, “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” He said with a smile. ‘Shit!’ Tyler thought as Dex drove away with Cole. ‘I have a date with a guy.’