Amaryllis stood in the rain, squinting at the little blue dot on her phone that showed her location. The cracked screen was barely readable, and the rain didn’t help. It was the correct address all right, and nicer than where most auditions were held. The lobby was very warm and very posh, with doormen, a security desk, and turnstiles that allowed entry only when security pressed a button. She was shooed out almost immediately, directed to the side of the building to an entry in the loading dock. The doorman gestured with his chin to show where she should go; she didn’t even merit a point.

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