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MidReal Story
Bad Boy Alcoholic
Scenario:Chloe is a 16 year old girl who is running away from Ohio to California to be an actress. Her single mother with a younger sister doesn't even care look for her because she is a disappointment. Chloe finds a woman, named Valarie, to live with in Las Angeles and she cares for her. Chloe finds a small tv show to start out and becomes national TV famous in the US and finds a co-star boyfriend named Nathan. Nathan is 19 and has his own apartment but is an avid alcoholic and drug user.
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Chloe Harper
She is a 16yearold high school dropout from Ohio, aspiring to be an actress in Los Angeles. She is determined, rebellious, and hopeful. Chloe runs away from her dysfunctional family in Ohio to pursue her dreams. She meets Valerie, a caring woman who becomes her guardian in LA. Chloe lands a role in a TV show, becoming a national star. She then meets Nathan, a 19yearold actor who has a lavish lifestyle and a secret dark side of heavy drinking and drug use.
Lana
She is Chloe's 13yearold sister who remains with their troubled mother after Chloe runs away from home. Lana is naive, innocent, and hopeful. She looks up to Chloe and dreams of a better life similar to her older sister's LA lifestyle. Lana idolizes Chloe’s actress status and longs for the day she can join her sister in LA. Her presence serves as a reminder of the family life Chloe left behind, highlighting the challenges and separations within their troubled family.
Nathan Fox
He is a 19yearold actor living in an upscale apartment in LA. He is charming, reckless, and selfcentered. Nathan meets Chloe on the set of a TV show they are both cast in. Despite his handsome appearance and charismatic onscreen presence, his reallife behavior is marked by heavy drinking and drug use. Nathan's age is also a concern for Chloe as he is nine years older than her. His relationship with Chloe becomes tumultuous as his partying habits start to affect her career.
I was only 16 when I left Ohio.
I was running away from my life there, and I didn’t even care if anyone looked for me.
My mom had given up on me, and my thirteen-year-old sister Lana was the favorite.
My dad had left us years before, so I didn’t even know where he was.
I didn’t have any contact with him after he left, so I wasn’t sure why I thought he would care that I was running away.
Maybe it was just wishful thinking, that someone would care about what happened to me.
That someone would miss me.
It seemed like a good idea at the time, running away to Los Angeles to become an actress.
It wasn’t like I had anything holding me back in Ohio, and I had always dreamed of becoming an actress.
I didn’t want to be stuck in the small town I was born in forever, so I figured I would take matters into my own hands.
I had always been a bit of a rebel, so this wasn’t anything new for me.
I hitched my first ride with a truck driver headed to Chicago, and from there I went to Vegas.
From Vegas, I went to San Francisco, and then finally to LA.
I huddle in the corner of the Downtown Women’s Center, my backpack clutched tightly against my chest.
The fluorescent lights overhead flicker, casting an eerie glow over the room.
The other women shuffle past my thin mattress on the floor, some of them glancing at me with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.
I keep my eyes down, not wanting to draw any attention to myself.
During the day, I stand outside the Hollywood Walk of Fame, clutching a cardboard sign that reads "Aspiring Actress, Need Help."
Tourists walk past me, their eyes fixed on the ground or their phones, trying to avoid eye contact.
Some toss coins or crumpled dollar bills into my cup without even looking at me.
It’s been fourteen days since I arrived in LA, and I’m starting to lose hope.
I’ve barely made enough money to buy a few meals and a bottle of water each day. As the sun begins to set on another long day, I pack up my sign and head back to the shelter.
I’ve learned to keep my expectations low, but I can’t help feeling a twinge of disappointment as I make my way through the crowded streets.
Maybe tomorrow will be different, I tell myself as I push open the door to the shelter.
Maybe someone will see my sign and offer me a chance.
But as I settle onto my mattress and pull out my journal, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m just another forgotten soul in this city of dreams. The next morning, I stand outside the Walk of Fame again, holding my sign and scanning the crowds for anyone who might be willing to help.
Most people ignore me, but one woman catches my eye.
She’s dressed in a cream-colored blazer and matching skirt, her hair pulled back into a sleek bun.
She looks like she just stepped off a movie set, and for a moment, I wonder if maybe this is it – maybe this is the person who will finally give me a chance.
She walks toward me slowly, her eyes fixed on mine.
"Hello," she says softly as she reaches me.
"Can you tell me your story?"
I hesitate for a moment before launching into the speech I’ve practiced so many times in front of the mirror at the shelter.
"My name is Emily," I say quickly.
"I’m from Ohio. I came here to be an actress, but I don’t have any money. I was hoping someone could help me out."
The woman nods thoughtfully, her eyes never leaving mine.
"Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me?"
I nod eagerly, following her to a small café nearby.
She orders me a hot chocolate and listens intently as I tell her more about my journey from Ohio.
As we talk, I notice the way her emerald blazer catches the light, and the way her pearl necklace glimmers against her skin.
She looks like she just stepped out of a fashion magazine, and I can’t help feeling a little intimidated by her poise and confidence.
"So you’ve been sleeping at the women’s shelter?" she asks gently.
I nod, feeling a twinge of embarrassment.
"Yes. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than sleeping on the streets."
The woman nods sympathetically.
"I see," she says softly.
"And what kind of acting experience do you have?"
I shrug.
"Not much," I admit.
"I was in a few school plays back in Ohio, but that’s about it."
The woman nods thoughtfully again, taking a sip of her coffee before speaking.
"Okay," she says finally. "I think I might be able to help you out. My name is Valarie, and I work at Apple Valley Winery. We’re always looking for new talent to feature in our commercials and events. Would you be interested in coming in for an audition?"
My heart leaps at the prospect of finally getting a chance to pursue my dreams.
"Yes," I say eagerly.
"Absolutely."
Valarie smiles kindly at me.
"Great," she says.
"I’ll give you my card, and you can come by tomorrow morning to set up an appointment. And in the meantime, why don’t you stay with me? You can sleep in my guest room until you get settled."
I stare at her in disbelief, hardly able to process what she’s offering me.
"You’d do that for me?"
I ask incredulously.
Valarie nods kindly at me.
"Of course," she says softly.
"We all need a little help sometimes."
"Thank you," I whisper, clutching the card like a lifeline.
I walk beside Valarie through the crowded parking lot of the café, my backpack clutched tightly against my chest.
Her heels click steadily on the asphalt as she leads me to a shiny silver Lexus, its polished surface reflecting the afternoon sun.
She unlocks the car with a beep of her key fob and opens the passenger door for me, gesturing for me to climb inside.
I hesitate for a moment, remembering all the warnings my mother had given me about getting into cars with strangers.
But Valarie’s warm smile and kind eyes put me at ease, and I remind myself that I’ll be sleeping in a real bed tonight instead of a thin mattress on the floor of a shelter.
I slide into the passenger seat and buckle my seatbelt, breathing in the new car smell mixed with Valarie’s subtle perfume.
She sinks into the leather seat beside me and starts the engine, pulling smoothly out of the parking lot and into the evening traffic.
"So, I wanted to tell you about the job I have in mind," she says as we merge onto the highway.
"It’s at a winery just outside of LA. They do dinner theater shows every weekend, and they’re looking for some young talent to round out their cast."
My heart leaps at the prospect of landing a role so soon after arriving in LA.
"That sounds amazing," I say eagerly.
"What kind of show are they doing?"
"A Midsummer Night’s Dream," Valarie replies.
"They need someone to play one of the fairies. It’s a small part, but it pays $200 per show."
My eyes widen at the mention of money.
"Wow, that’s amazing," I breathe.
"When do auditions start?"
"Tomorrow afternoon," Valarie says.
"You’ll need to prepare a one-minute monologue and be ready to read some scenes from the play. I’ll give you all the details when we get home."
I nod along, watching as the city lights blur past the windows of the car.
We exit the highway and wind our way through quiet neighborhoods, passing rows of tidy houses with manicured lawns.
As we turn into a cul-de-sac lined with tall trees, I catch sight of a Spanish-style house with terracotta roof tiles and a sprawling front porch. Valarie pulls into the driveway and kills the engine, turning to smile at me.
"Welcome home," she says softly.
I climb out of the car and follow her up the walkway to the front door, where she produces a key from her purse and unlocks it with a soft click.
"Here’s your key," she says, pressing it into my hand.
"You can let yourself in whenever you need to."
I take the key gratefully, feeling a sense of relief wash over me as I step inside the cool foyer of her house.
The air is thick with the scent of fresh flowers, and soft jazz music drifts from somewhere deeper in the house.
"Make yourself at home," Valarie says, gesturing toward a cozy living room filled with plush furniture and artfully arranged bookshelves.
"Thank you," I reply, still in awe of my surroundings.
"By the way," she adds, her voice dropping slightly, "there's something important I need to tell you about the winery."
I follow her through the living room and into a sunlit dining area, where she takes a seat at the head of a polished wooden table.
I sink into one of the chairs beside her, watching as she folds her hands together in front of her.
"The winery has housing on site," she explains, her voice low and serious.
"It’s not much, but it’s a place to stay while you’re working there."
I nod along, my fingers tracing the intricate patterns on the tablecloth.
"Is it expensive?"
I ask, feeling a twinge of worry in my chest.
Valarie shakes her head.
"No, it’s actually rent-free for cast members," she says.
"But you should know that it’s not exactly luxurious. It’s basically just a small room above the performance space. There’s a twin bed, a desk, and a shared bathroom down the hall."
I swallow hard, trying to hide my relief that I won’t have to impose on Valarie’s hospitality for too long.
"That sounds fine," I say finally, forcing a smile onto my face.
Valarie nods, seeming to sense my unease.
"Well, let me show you to your room," she says, standing up from the table and gesturing for me to follow her.
I trail behind her as she leads me upstairs and down a long hallway lined with framed photographs and artwork. We stop at a door at the end of the hall, and Valarie pushes it open to reveal a cozy guest room with a plush white bedspread and matching curtains.
"There’s fresh towels in the bathroom," she says, pointing down the hall.
"And feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen."
"Thank you again," I say sincerely, dropping my backpack onto the floor beside the bed.
Valarie smiles kindly at me before turning to leave.
"Why don’t we practice your audition piece after dinner?" she suggests as she heads for the door.
"I’d love that," I reply gratefully.
"I’ll meet you downstairs at 7."
As soon as Valarie leaves, I unzip my backpack and pull out my worn copy of Romeo and Juliet from drama class back home.