A Famous Face

A first draft of a short story that I was potentially going to use for my last assignment, shame for it to go to waste I say.

“Next”
I don’t know which is worse – lining up with a hundred girls all doused in Chanel no.5 or having to sit in a room fragranced by several hours of smoking Montecristo’s.
“Name?”
“Dougherty”
“ And what do you do?”
“Sorry?”
“Talents – y’know, music, singing – What do you do?”
“Yes – I mean, I sing, a bit an-”
“-Great, sing me a song”
“What shou-“
“Anything, sing me the song on the radio”
A faint tune from the reception radio crept under the door. The voice was unmistakeable yet my mind blanked all necessary information from me. The man sighed checking his watch.
“Stand”
“What?”
“Stand up - take off your coat”
I watched as he re-arranged himself on the hard wooden seat. As he looked me up and down I smoothed the collar of my dress.
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen”
“Hm”
As he paused I heard the radio again. Nat King Cole.
“No”
“I’m sorry?”
“No. Look-“
“Norma”
“Look Norma, pretty face, nice figure…”
‘…Straighten up and fly right, cool down, papa, don't you blow your top…’
“…More makeup and change the name”
“Name? Yes-no I have one”
“Yeah?”
“Marilyn”
“Marilyn what?”
“Monroe”
“Better. Next”