Remorseful and Sorrowful

"Embody the role. Embody the role. Embody the role."

Dakota stood in front of the mirror in the women's bathroom touching up her makeup, such as it was. Then she stopped to wonder why she was wearing makeup at all. Because you want to look professional at work, she told herself. And for absolutely no other reason whatsoever.

"Embody the role," she continued out loud. "I'll embody the role all right." Then, pulling her hair back in one fist to form a makeshift ponytail, she raised her voice an octave and said, mockingly, "My name is Callie and I memorize all my lines. And I'm so pretty with my high heels and impeccable outfits and my perfectly coiffed hair with my eighty dollar blow out and my perfectly manicured nails and a stick up my perfect ass!"

Just then a toilet flushed and Dakota prayed to any deity who might be listening to let her die right there in that moment. "Fuck!" she muttered. Then the door to the stall opened and Callie stepped out. Because of course she did. Callie completely ignored Dakota as she walked to the sink and started washing her hands. Dakota quickly mustered what was left of her dignity and a dash of swagger before she asked, "What are you doing here?"

Idiot!

Drying her hands, Callie glanced over her shoulder at the stall she just exited. "Pulling the stick out of my perfect ass," she said cooly as she brushed past Dakota and out the door.

After the door closed behind Callie, Dakota quickly checked under the doors of the other stalls before groaning a long, drawn out "Fffffffuck!"

In a high-pitched, mocking voice she added, "I'm Callie and I don't make any noise when I pee because I'm a fucking ninja!"

She strongly considered just going home and never coming back for a minute. Finally, she pulled up her big girl panties and headed back to the booth.

Mike looked up when Dakota came back into the booth.

"Welcome back, ladies. We're going to take this from the top. Dakota, your readings were coming off either a little flat or, in some cases, a little angry. The book clearly describes Mary as being regretful — remorseful, even — and sorrowful in this scene. So I need you to adopt more of that tone."

Dakota nodded. "Yep. No problem."

She put her headphones back on and settled into her chair. Callie was already looking down at her script, shoulders straight, one leg crossed over the other. She wasn't looking at Dakota this time.

Dakota watched her for a second. Remorseful and sorrowful, she told herself. Remorseful and sorrowful.

She reached back into her memories for a time when she had felt truly remorseful and sorrowful. Sixteen years old. Her first real girlfriend. Sadie. Dakota had outed her to her very conservative parents, thinking she was being heroic. She thought that it would turn out like one of her books, or an after-school special. Once confronted by Dakota's righteous fury, Sadie's parents would see the error of their ways and accept their daughter for who she was. Surely they would all thank Dakota for it.

There it was. Remorseful. Sorrowful.

They started again from the beginning.

They had gone over the lines so many times that night that neither of them needed to look at their scripts anymore. Dakota noticed that Callie wasn't even glancing down at hers this time.

"You ruined it!" Callie read, her voice dripping with even more venom. "My big night and you ruined it!"

Dakota didn't look at her pages either. She just watched Callie — the way her shoulders stayed rigid, the way her free hand stayed curled against her thigh. She wasn't performing for Dakota anymore. She was just reading. And somehow that made the lines hit harder.

Dakota answered, softer this time. "I'm so sorry! I was trying–"

"Trying to what?" Callie snapped, the acid in her voice cutting deeper this time. "Embarrass me? Well you did a great job of it!"

Instead of thanking her, Sadie's parents had immediately packed Sadie up and sent her off to conversion therapy. When Sadie came home, she wasn't there very long before she ran away. That was the last Dakota ever saw of her. Sadie hadn't spoken to her when she got back. Dakota had lived in a very small town. It had been a very small, ugly place to be trapped with the parents of your ex-girlfriend, who blamed you for their daughter's disappearance — especially when you blamed yourself for the very same thing.

"You look like a whore!" Callie read in a near growl. "Your tits are practically falling out of that dress and I've seen drag queens in less makeup!"

Dakota was at the edge of tears. "I'm sorry! I was trying to look nice for you. For your special night."

"You're dressed for the male gaze, not mine. I think I need to sleep alone tonight."

When they finished, Mike came back over the intercom.

"That was a lot better, Dakota. I dare say perfect even. That's our time for tonight, ladies. Thank you very much. I'll see you tomorrow."

Dakota took her headphones off slowly and set them on the stand. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her sleeve, then glanced at Callie, who was already gathering her things without looking at her. For a second, Dakota just sat there, letting Mike's words settle. She felt strangely steady. Like something had clicked into place.

Outside, a guy stood at the corner likely waiting for his own Uber. Dakota's arrived first and she nodded politely as she climbed in.

The second she was in the Uber, she pulled out her phone.

She was still annoyed. Callie had clearly memorized every line. She hadn't even glanced at her script half the time. Dakota hated feeling like the amateur in the room.

Maybe the guy was waiting for Callie. Possibly her ride. Probably her boyfriend.

Because she was definitely straight, Dakota thought. Definitely.

Dakota kicked off her boots at the door and dropped onto the couch like her body had finally remembered it was allowed to be tired. The apartment wasn't quiet for once. Jess and her girlfriend Taylor were already sprawled on the couch with takeout containers spread across the coffee table. The third roommate, a quiet, bookish woman named Priya, was curled up in the armchair with a mug of tea and a novel.

"Hey, you're home!" Jess said, sitting up with a bright smile. "How'd the recording thing go?"

Dakota managed a small smile. "It went… fine. I got the gig."

Taylor gave her a thumbs-up. "Nice! We got Thai — you want some? We over-ordered like always."

Priya looked up from her book and offered a quiet, friendly nod. "There's plenty. And congratulations. That's exciting."

Dakota shook her head. "I'm good, thanks. I'm just gonna head to my room. Long day."

Jess looked like she wanted to push, but Taylor gently elbowed her and gave Dakota an understanding look. "Fair enough. We'll save you some leftovers."

Dakota gave them a small wave and headed down the hallway to her tiny room. She closed the door behind her, let out a long breath, and stripped out of her clothes. She pulled on her favorite raggedy t-shirt — the one with the faded band logo that was soft from years of wear — and slipped under the covers.

She grabbed her tablet from the nightstand, pulled up the streaming service, and started flipping through the tiles. A gritty cop drama caught her eye for a second. She hovered over it, considering. She could use something sharp right now. Something that would let her turn her brain off and just watch people solve problems that weren't hers.

But the thought of watching another broody detective chase another broody killer made her feel exhausted. She wasn't in the mood for tension tonight. She wanted something soft. Something warm. Something that felt like a blanket and bad decisions from a simpler time.

She kept scrolling.

A row labeled "Newly Added" caught her attention. She slowed down, thumb lazy on the remote.

And then she stopped.

The thumbnail showed a bright, slightly dated living room with a big couch and a family that looked like they'd stepped straight out of the late 2000s. The title sat across the top in cheerful block letters: Family of Five.

Dakota let out a quiet, surprised laugh.

She hadn't thought about this show in years.

She hovered over it anyway, and the preview started playing — quick cuts of the cast, the familiar theme song kicking in low. And there she was. The older sister. The one with the sharp comebacks and the perfect hair and that confident, slightly cocky smile that used to make teenage Dakota's stomach do backflips every time she came on screen.

Dakota stared at the screen for a long second, the remote still in her hand.

She remembered being thirteen, maybe fourteen, sitting cross-legged on the floor in her childhood bedroom with the volume turned down low so her parents wouldn't hear. She remembered the way her chest would get tight when that character walked into a scene. The way she'd rewind certain moments just to watch her again. The way she'd felt something she didn't have words for yet — something warm and fluttery and a little bit terrifying.

She hadn't known what it was back then. She'd just known that she liked the way that girl talked, the way she moved, the way she looked at the camera like she already knew the punchline.

Dakota let out a slow breath through her nose.

"Jesus," she muttered, half a laugh.

She clicked on it anyway.

The episode started. The familiar opening credits rolled, and Dakota sank deeper into the covers, letting the familiar theme song wash over her.

For the first time in a long time, she let herself feel a little bit hopeful.

Later, as the closing credits rolled, she let out a quiet breath.

Maybe this hadn't been the best idea on her period. The show was already stirring up old feelings, and her hormones were making her more than a little horny on top of everything else. But she was far too tired to do anything about it.