Dar

Here's the thing about working as an actress. When I tell people what I want to be, they usually give me the weirdest looks, like I have just told them I would like to move to Mars and make Martian friends and have Martian babies. They usually have a pitying look accompanied with a tinge of "You want to be an actress? Good luck with that."

And as I stand in the middle of a room with a sleazy commercial director telling me to hold up a phone to my ear while simultaneously trying to squeeze my nonexistent boobs together, I realize that maybe all of the naysayers are actually right. Am I an actress, really? Is this commercial for Chatz4HawtSingles going to win me an Oscar? Is this commercial going to make me the next Audrey Hepburn, the next Lauren Bacall, the next Claudette Colbert?

No. It's not.

The dodgy director whose name I've learned is Gus (Gus? Is there a sleazier name than Gus?) tells me to look sexy and I try to. I really do. But as I say in my most seductive voice, "Call me. I'm waiting for you," I fight the urge to laugh hysterically and sob at the same time. I am definitely at my lowest.

The director yells cut. Now he's yelling at the casting agent who is standing in the corner with his head in his hands. "Why did you cast this ironing board who can't act, Louis? She's shit!" Louis looks at me like I have betrayed him. Because I have. I was totally sexy at my audition.

But I have failed him. I am going through an identity crisis while shooting a commercial for Chatz4HawtSingles. I put the prop phone down to my side and glance at Gus and Louis fighting. They both glare at me with seething looks. I remember that although this commercial is not going to transcend me into stardom, it would pay my piling bills. Then I finally speak up.

"I can do the scene. I'm sorry. I'm just... not feeling well."

Gus returns to his spot behind the camera and tells me that if I don't nail it soon he will fire me. So I smile and put the phone to my ear once again. I imagine I'm talking to Jude Armstrong and I breathe, "Call me. I'm waiting for you."

Gus likes it.



I'm walking home and this is when I meet Artemis. The night is dark and I feel like a person who has nothing to lose. I am Chatz4HawtSingle's whore, but it's not just that. I have also broken up with my boyfriend, moved away from Oklahoma after promising my parents that I will be a respected actress in no time, and on top of that, I am getting evicted.

In fact, I am chanting, "I'm such a loser. I am such a loser," when Artemis appears. And when I say he appears, he really appears... out of thin air. There I am, just minding my own business, loathing myself, and a tall and lanky man pops out from nowhere.

Now, my instinctive reaction is to stop and stare at him with my mouth open in surprise. He does the same thing. There is a split second of silence before screaming bloody murder. Well, he doesn't, I do. I start flapping about bellowing for help because men do not just pop out of nowhere and this is not ordinary and I am probably going to die.

The man lunges forward to cover my mouth. "Stop screaming! Stop bloody screaming! I'm here to help!" He is pleading with me. I try to bite his hand that covers my mouth and he retracts. "What are you? A savage? How dare you try to bite me?!"

I note his proper accent, but it doesn't stop me from pulling out the pepper spray Daddy gave me before I moved to Los Angeles and spraying it all over his face. Surprisingly, it doesn't hurt him. He stands there as I drench his face with pepper spray. I'm starting to cough because it's really strong and the particles in the air are now getting in my throat and he still doesn't flinch.

I cough violently as I finish the last of the spray on him. He has this completely annoyed look on his face because he's all wet now, but still unaffected by the power of the pepper spray. I double over, my throat and eyes are burning.

"You done now, lovely?" he asks in a monotonous voice.

I try to punch him in the face while still heaving, but he dodges it quickly and I realize that he is not normal. "Who are you? What do you want?" I rasp out. He looks down at me with a pleasant smile. "There we are! Now that you've got that all out of your system, let's begin," he murmurs.

"Please, please! Don't do anything to me! I have five children! They will be so worried if I don't come home. I also have herpes! It’s really bad! Oh gosh! OH GOSH!"

He starts to look angry now. "Would you stop crying, Hattie? I know you don't have five children and I don't care to know about your sexually transmitted diseases. I am here to help you!"

I stop crying for mercy. He doesn't sound like a murdering rapist. "H –how do you know my name?" I hiccup. He finally looks like he's a little sorry. "Look, I apologize for frightening you. It was not my intention. I'm here for your benefit, trust me."

I finally get a good look at him. His dark brown hair is cut in a dainty way that reminds me of Clark Gable. His eyes are ocean blue. And he has a structurally unstable quality to his build, like he can't believe how tall he is and he might fall over any second.

"What's your name?" I question.

He smiles and says, "Artemis. My name is Artemis."

"And why are you here? How are you going to help me?" I ask hesitantly.

"I am going to change your life. I can offer you... whatever you want. I am a Giver." I stare at him blankly. He looks like he has just told me he is the pope or something.

"Um. That's nice," I say.

"Hattie. I can grant your wishes. I can give you whatever you want. Except for three things, actually. You can't ask to live forever. You can't ask me for money directly. And you can't ask for true love." My heart swells up with laughter, and before I know it I am guffawing with mirth.

"W –what? You're my fairy godmother?" I stammer out in between giggles.

Artemis rolls his eyes, "Yes, if you want to use that vernacular, I guess you can. You would not be the first Taker to have called me as such. But I prefer Giver."

Suddenly, I realize that he is serious.

"Wait. Are you for real?" I ask soberly. He looks like he wants to kiss me for finally having something register in my mind. "Yes! I am completely and utterly serious," he states.

"So if I was like, 'I want a hamburger,' you will get me a hamburger?"

Artemis looks at me carefully, "Well, you would have to say, 'Giver, I want a hamburger,'" he responds.
I roll my eyes, "Giver, I want a hamburger," I say.

Suddenly, I hear a car squealing around the corner to the lone street. I can tell from afar that it is my favorite fast food restaurant's culinary truck. It screeches to a halt right beside me and the pimply teenaged driver looks at me. "Yo, can you take some of these burgers off my hands? My boss is gonna kill me if I have extras."

I feel my heart drop and I robotically extend my arm out to take the bag with the red and yellow logo printed across it. The driver smiles, "Thanks. You saved me!" he cries and drives off. Artemis looks at me with a gloating expression.

"Yes. I did that. I told you, I'm a Giver," he announces.

"Holy cow," I whisper, "You're not lying."

"No, I'm not lying," Artemis says with a wink.

I take out a burger to munch on. It's delicious and Artemis stares at me with a curious look. "Hattie, other than the three wish rules, there are more stipulations to our relationship."

I nod, chewing quickly. "Wutahrdey?" I mumble with a full mouth. He looks a little disgusted when he says, "One. You cannot tell anyone about me. Two. Nobody else can see me unless I decide it is okay and it must stay this way by sticking to rule one. And three: you cannot call me fairy godmother ever again."
I take the last bite of my burger.

"Um. Okay. That sounds good," I finally say after I've finished chewing.

We both nod in silence. Artemis looks relieved and I feel a jolt of excitement before feeling another wave of embarrassment. So I say, "I don't really have herpes. I just wanted to scare you in case you wanted to-"

"Hattie!" He cut me off.