The Costume's Turn

— I’ve seen a lot of reactions to my appearance, but never quite one like that. I appreciate that you don’t seem bound by prejudice — I’ve grown used to intense reactions to my presence, though I wouldn’t say I enjoy them. My name is Manu, and as you may have noticed, I’m an albino.

Although, I don’t have snow- white hair — it’s dark, due to my type of albinism. But my skin is, as you can see, marble- white. I also have red eyes, just like that vampire guy. Or like someone constantly getting high. By the way, the last young lady who bolted out of your garage after shoving me aside — she had eyes just like that.

Evelyn coughed awkwardly.

— I was starting to think he was talking about me...

Her niece calmly began her speech, having patiently listened to their guest:

— You don’t have to explain anything to us. Just be yourself — who you always are. And also, I really need to apologize to that vampire guy on behalf of my unbearable aunt. She didn’t mean to offend him. Sometimes she just talks before thinking. Right, Evelyn?

The woman was at that moment making the sign of the cross at the garage doors and froze when she saw Flora glaring.

— Um, yeah, of course. I’ll apologize to him. — Then she quietly whispered to the director, — So… should we sprinkle some salt by the entrance or what?

The actor, evidently possessing sharp hearing, shook his head:

— I assure you, ghouls don’t have such specific dietary habits — mostly because they probably don’t exist. May I sit down?

— Yes, of course! — The casting manager hurried to say, trying to ignore her aunt’s muttering: - Sure would be nice to have Peyota’s knife right about now, see if that ghoul's blood is even human.-

As soon as the man settled into the chair, the Copy returned to her perch on the tabletop and asked him:

— So?

Manu of the Māori replied with a question of his own:

— Tell me, madam…

— Flora. Just Flora. I’m the director of this film. And this is the cinematographer, Evelyn.

— A pleasure! — The man bowed politely. — May I ask, what’s the format of the audition? I prepared a monologue from a character played by my fellow countryman, Taika Waititi, in the film What We Do in the Shadows. Hmm. Quite ironic, given the situation, wouldn’t you say?

Everyone chuckled. Manu definitely had a likable vibe, and even Copy seemed pleased with his gentlemanly manners. Evelyn said it out loud:

— You're the most reasonable person we've seen today, I swear!

— The others were just as decent, auntie! Stop badmouthing people already. — Flora protested, and seeing her aunt nod in agreement, she immediately turned to the actor:

— I don’t doubt you’ll perform your memorized monologue perfectly, but unfortunately, we’re making an improv film, and I’d really love to hear about you, about your life.

The smile slipped from the dandy’s face, and he grew somber:

— Let’s not touch on personal matters and focus on the professional side, please. I can tell you this, as I mentioned earlier — I try to help myself become a bit more informed and well- rounded. I’ve long accepted the fact that I truly - know that I know nothing,- and I’m doing my best to study what little I can in this short human life.

— What kind of research are you doing? — Flora asked with curiosity, only to hear Copy’s voice cut in:

— Oh, who cares! Are we writing an autobiography or casting a movie here? The actor seemed to agree, now speaking without his usual smirk:

— My research is done. Now I’m stepping into a new era of my life, so if you don’t mind, ladies — may I read the script?

The file was promptly placed in the – Accepted - folder. There was no room for confusion here — Flora and Evelyn approved him on the spot, without even needing to talk it over. Although Evelyn mumbled: - I like his old- school charm.-

And the director just exclaimed:

— Why do they all insist on reading the script? Can’t we do without it?

- Even though I’m no expert in film production, I still think it makes sense when someone wants to understand what they’re getting into and how to act accordingly. Especially since we’re casting

people from other professions who don’t even know what they’re doing and are just as scared as you. Well, maybe not all of them, but most for sure.- — All this flashed through her mind, but her train of thought got derailed by her companions’ remarks:

— They just want to read the script to remember the alphabet — most of them are clearly illiterate.

— Copy sneered.

— Even though I’m no expert in film production, I still think it makes sense when someone wants to understand what they’re getting into and how to act accordingly. — Evelyn explained. Flora flinched — that wasn’t at all what her aunt had said earlier.

— Films vary, just like the way they’re shot. If the director insists on doing it this way — then so be it. If you don’t want to give out the script, that’s your right.

— But that could lead to a dictatorship, right, Auntie? — Flora asked hesitantly.

— You’re not likely to manage that. You’re too young, and you don’t have that backbone that real tyrants have. I’d actually like for you to grow a pair... well, not literally, but if you did, I sure

wouldn’t judge. Anyway! Point is — you should be a bit more decisive, and this kind of thing makes you stronger.

The director gave a sheepish smile:

— Thanks, Auntie. That’s really nice to hear. The moved woman waved it off:

— Oh, cut it out! All this warmth is about to get washed away by a tidal wave of nightmare — you see what file’s up next?

Flora shivered, as if it were winter outside instead of summer, and muttered:

— I see... now it’s - The Costume’s turn.