Word Count: 78,238
Summary of Events:
Mitchell went to the bar after work and chatted with Walton a bit about Dolly, but other patrons served to hamper the conversation by calling Walton away. Mitchell gave Dolly the second instalment of money to repay her for giving him everything she had so far thanks to his having received a second paycheque. Mitchell and Dolly had Saturday brunch together during which Mitchell was frustrated by Dolly's insistence that she wasn't beautiful and would be a burden if he were to marry her; he then accompanied her to an audition where he ended up playing the role of a boy proposing to her as the girl where the director actually complimented their performances . . .
Excerpt of the Day:
“So where to next?” Mitchell asked Dolly once he caught up to her.
“I don’t know,” Dolly replied morosely.
“He complimented you,” Mitchell said.
“That’s only because you were there,” Dolly said. “You were the one he liked.”
Mitchell sighed. What was he supposed to do with this girl?
He was startled by a shrill scream and looked up to see a blonde young woman with brown eyes and a disconcertingly familiar face looking at him with horror.
“Last I checked that wasn’t how you say hello Mavis,” Dolly said tersely.
“Who is that?” Mavis asked.
“Parker Newton,” Mitchell replied, offering his hand and thickening his accent.
Mavis looked at him warily for a few moments before taking on a snobbish carriage.
“Oh, I mistook you for someone else,” she said snippily, not touching his proffered hand.
“Oh,” Mitchell said. “And you are?”
“Mavis Rollins,” Mavis replied haughtily. “You aren’t trying to take my part as Susan Bennett are you Dolly?”
“If it’s your part then why’s there still a lineup?” Mitchell demanded.
“Because he hasn’t realised it’s my part yet,” Mavis replied.
“Maybe it’s Dolly’s part,” Mitchell said.
“She has no experience being in love or in movies,” Mavis replied. “I have both.”
“If my Mama wouldn’t have raised me better I’d slap you right now,” Mitchell spat.
Mavis recoiled in arrogant horror.
“Dolly doesn’t need to be a buxom blonde in order to get her name in lights,” Mitchell said. “Being blonde ain’t the only way to be beautiful. In fact, she may be even more beautiful because she ain’t blonde.”
“Ugly women end up in the movies too,” Mavis sneered.
“Why you–” Mitchell cut himself off and moved in to slap her.
Mavis screamed.
Mitchell stopped himself, but stood toe to toe with her.
Staring hard into her dark brown eyes, Mitchell swore. “Dolly’s had enough . . . refuse fed to her all her life she don’t need you adding to the pile!”
Mavis looked at Mitchell with shock and horror before turning and stalking off.
Mitchell looked at Dolly, who looked unimpressed.
“She ain’t the only one who talks to you like that, is she?” Mitchell asked.
“No,” Dolly replied. “But I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t care,” Mitchell said. “I can’t stand by and let you be talked to like that.”
Dolly looked mostly unimpressed, but Mitchell was pleased to see that there was a small glimmer of appreciation in her eyes.
Glancing toward where Mavis had gone, though, Mitchell felt a little bit of disturbance. Why did he recognise Mavis’ face? Why did she strike him as so familiar?
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