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You're escaping yourself."
"Maybe that's what really brought us all here," Rose blurted. "I mean, not that we're criminals or anything. We're just not comfortable without our dramatic personas."
The air was heavy with that thought for a moment.
"I don't know what I'm even saving to y'all," Rose declared. and Cinnamon laughed.
"I haven't met her yet, aside from seeing her briefly at my audition. but I'm sure Madame Senetsky certainly wouldn't like that idea to be our prime motive for dramatic and artistic training."
"Hardly," Rose agreed, "Although sometimes I've thought actors are lucky. They can spend a good part of their lives being someone they'd like to be."
"What if they have to play evil people?" I asked. Cinnamon turned to me sharply.
"Who says we don't want to be evil
sometimes?" she fired, almost in anger. "Haven't you fantasized yourself doing something forbidden?"
I blushed and started to shake my head.
"And what's going on in here, pray tell?" Howard Rockwell asked, leaning against the doorjamb. He turned his collar up and put an unlit cigarette into the corner of his lips. "You dolls are up to something. see? I can tell, see? Don't try to put anything over on Rocco, see?"
"Edward G. Robinson," Cinnamon declared.
He smiled and took the cigarette out of his mouth.
"Correct. And who have we here?" he asked, stepping up to Rose. "What's your name. sweetheart?"
"I'm Rose Wallace, Edward."
"I'm not Edward,' Howard said. laughing. "I was just doing an imitation of Edward G. Robinson."
"A mediocre one. I might add," Cinnamon said.
He gave her a sharp, angry look and then smiled again when he turned back to Rose.
"My name is Howard Rockwell, Howard Rockwell. Jr., actually. but I'm dropping the Jr. for now. You sound like you're from... Georgia," he declared.
"How did you know that?" Cinnamon asked suspiciously. I'm sure she thought he had been standing just outside my door, listening in on our conversation.
"Accents are my forte. You have to be able to master that skill if you want a wide range of performances," he declared, as if it was so obvious even an uneducated person would know,
"You're pretty good at it," Rose said.
"I know." Howard replied.
"Howard here doesn't suffer from a low selfimage," we heard as Steven Jesse came in behind him.
"If you lack confidence in yourself, you don't belong on the stage. It's a breeding ground for egos, and rightly so. I'm not ashamed of my self
confidence." Howard lectured.
I had never seen anyone who could leap onto a soap box and preach as quickly. His eyes fell on me.
"You're all going to be out there. naked."
"Pardon me?" I asked.
"Not literally, although." he added, shifting his eyes toward Rose. "you might consider posing for Playboy or something to help spike your careers. False modesty has no place in our world."
"What if it isn't false?" Rose countered.
"Lulu Belle, darlin', all modesty is false when it comes to being in the spotlight."
"My name's not Lulu Belle," Rose shot back sharply.
"Just funnin' with ya, darlin'." Howard continued.
"Give it a rest, will you. Romeo," Steven said, stepping forward, "And let her meet a real Romeo. Fin Steven Jesse, pianist extraordinaire."
He reached out to shake Rose's hand, but when she extended hers, he pulled his back.
"Sorry. but I have to protect my fingers. They're insured by Lloyd's of London for ten million dollars."
"Really?" I asked.
"Of course... not!"he cried, laughing.
Rose looked at me with an expression asking if Steven and Howard were for real. I shrugged.
"Let's go help Ice defrost," Cinnamon said.
"Who's Ice?" Howard inquired.
"The girl who's behind the closed door. No one has met her yet and, if you look at the time, we all have to be downstairs to meet Dracula's daughter," Cinnamon told him.
"Dracula's daughter?" I asked.
"Ms. Fairchild," she replied.
Steven thought that was very funny.
"Go on and laugh," Howard said, stepping closer to him. "Until you find her at your neck."
"Something tells me he'd enjoy it,"