Marley The Puppy & "Star" Chapter One

The Smoothie Queens

Bahahaha, Marley & Me comes out on DVD today, and our Daily Puppy today is named Marley. I think that's planned, though...

Anyway, here's the first chapter of Star, and our Quote Of The Day is at the beginning of it, and it also works as the chapter title!! lol =)

1
“Expect the unexpected.” -Anonymous

The thing I really hate about mascara is that my eyes are pretty full without it, and it can often be…not that pleasant…with my contacts. Yeah, contacts and mascara do not go hand in hand, especially when one must apply pounds and pounds of mascara. My eyes are brown, so it’s not like I need to bring anything out; if they were hazel, I’d need to bring out the green with my makeup, but since they’re brown and large (I mean, like, full), I don’t really need all that mascara. Just a little, really; the same amount I’d use in everyday life if I wore makeup in everyday life (If I’m being honest, makeup in everyday life bugs the heck out of me, since I wear so much stage makeup day-to-day.).
Anyway, my mascara is taking that tired feeling that is putting pressure on my eyelids, and totally maximizing it. I never wanted this job, if I’m being totally honest with myself, because it’s just so demanding. There are better roles out there; I would know because I’ve had them (This is an eight-week stint as Blousey Brown in Bugsy Malone at the American Music Theatre in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and I am required to sing in my head voice--not my forte, but I pull it off.)! I mean, really; I’m fourteen, I’m short, I’m brunette-I’ve got potential (Minus the “short” thing. I’m really pretty; I’ve unfortunately peaked a little too young with that pretty thing, but then again, I don’t think I’ve ever gone for more than four hours without stage makeup on, so I’ve never really seen myself. And if I am ugly when I’m older, which I pray I won’t be, then I’ll just wear some more makeup. Problem solved.). So now, I’m always tired, all the time. I’ve learned, in my fourteen years, that sometimes, not even a star on a door can help you when you’re tired all the time. Not even thousands upon thousands of standing ovations per night; not when you really hate the show you’re in, and/or what part you got (This is the lead role, and I don’t hate it, but I’m talking about, like, other roles that I’ve gotten that were crappy.).
The star on my door says Natalie Wells, but my real name is Hadley Wellington. It sorta stays the same, but…not really. I get why my parents think Wellington needs to be changed for a stage name, and my Dad used it when he was an actor, but come on, Hadley? I think it’s pretty unique! I just don’t get why my parents named me Hadley if they’re so pushy with the stage thing (My professional debut was playing Balloon Girl, u/s Baby Louise/Baby June in a Gypsy national tour when I saw six!); it’s like maybe, at the last minute, they decided “Hadley” wasn’t gonna work with my career, but by then my birth certificate was already finished, with the name “Hadley Wellington” printed on it.
I tiredly pushed my door open, my hand on the star, and was greeted to a chorus of “Natalie!”
I recognized the three voices before I looked up-my mother, Janette Karen Franco-Wellington (Known as Karen Franks-Wells to my casting directors, coaches, and back when she did regional productions.), my father, Marcel Gavin Wellington (Known as Mark Gavin Wells to the ensemble of theatre people in my life, and yeah, he got a national tour once, but that’s about it.), and director, Bob (Ugh-how many times do people run off intricate names and then end with saying “so-and-so, Bob.”?). Oh, and yeah, my family is so totally French, and I know that “Hadley” isn’t; don’t judge. I expected my Mom to be there, since she always guides me to the stage door and makes sure I don’t get bombarded by audience members (Which would never happen, because I’m so not famous.). I also expected the people from hair and makeup, since I wear a wig of powdery white, curly hair, but they were nowhere to be seen. And my Dad and Bob? Er, not really!