Chapter Eight: Rising Star

 Narrated by Caroline Masterson

I arrived on set for ZBB: Apocalypse Rising and was impressed by the way it had been dressed. It definitely looked apocalyptic, and I mentally praised the set dressers. I was given an interestingly curly Mohican and funky red costume before going to practise my lines.

The first scene was a fight with one of my co-stars. Unfortunately, it went very wrong... as soon as I went in for a kick, I slipped and fell on my arse! I started laughing immediately as did the crew and my co-star. I did feel rather embarrassed as I stood up, however - how would it be dealt with in editing? Would I be called for a reshoot, or would they keep it in for a comic moment?

I then had to pretend to "die" in what appeared to be a disused library that was now being used as a campsite. I hoped it was convincing; it was all too easy to be overly dramatic when it came to a death scene.

That day also happened to be New Year's Eve. When I got home - the shoot having been at lunchtime - Peter and I sat down to watch the New Year's Eve TV show. The kids were behaving well; Erytheia was sat between Peter and me, Xanthe and Apollo were having a chat, and Artemis was taking herself off to bed, as she'd announced she was "seepy". 

After a while, the clock struck midnight, and Peter and I celebrated in the traditional way by having a kiss. It had been a lovely, cosy evening. 

The next day, Peter paid a visit to the market square in Finchwick to sell his usual quota of produce.

"I was chatting to Agatha Crumplebottom," he said when he got back, "and she told me that there is a way of growing money trees."

"Wow!" I exclaimed. "So money really does grow on trees..."

"It seems so," he smiled. "It takes a while for them to grow, but hopefully it'll start paying dividends."

We pooled our money together and purchased two money tree seeds. Peter also bought two more planters, and planted the seeds in the plant room. We'd been saving up to purchase the Torendi Tower penthouse and had nearly reached the price the current owner was asking for. Although we'd have probably moved in by the time the money trees started producing anything, extra money would always be useful.

I decided to visit the Fashion District, which was where the penthouse building was located. I was feeling pretty hungry, and was happy to see a Chinese food stall nearby; Chinese was one of my favourites. I bought a plate of sweet and sour pork and sat at one of the benches to eat it, looking towards the penthouse building. My parents had always emphasised how hard work reaped rewards, and I was excited that we'd soon be moving. I would miss Medina Studios, though, and knew that I'd always have a soft spot for the first place Peter and I had set up home together, and the place where our children had been born.

The next day, Salim paid one of his frequent visits. 

"So, I hear you're planning on moving," he said.

"Yes. With four children, we really need a little more space."
"Of course, I understand. It's been great having you as a neighbour," he replied. 

"Thank you, Salim," I smiled. "You've been a great neighbour, too. I'll miss seeing you in the hallway. Feel free to come and visit us once we've moved!"
"Oh, I'll come over all the time," he laughed. "I'll always message you beforehand, though. My mum always hated it when people would drop in unannounced."

Some time later, I heard a worrying thud from the bedroom. Knowing that Peter was in there experimenting with the cauldron, I rushed in, and was horrified to see him lying on the ground.

"Peter!" I yelled. Then I looked closer, and noticed that he was still breathing. Phew! I looked at the cauldron, which was full of a thick, black, viscous substance that was bubbling slowly and smelt disgusting. 

Oh no, he was probably hit by some kind of curse, I realised. I'd read about curses in various magical tomes, and knew different curses were caused by different events. Since he'd failed in his potion-making, he was likely to have been hit by Unwarranted Hostility, Repulsiveness or Uncleansable Stench.

I went to the kitchen to cook dinner, when Peter came to see me. His face was as handsome as usual, and I didn't feel an overwhelming urge to deck him, so I assumed he'd been hit with Uncleansable Stench. He confirmed this when I asked, and he apologised for the smell.

"Don't worry," I said, "it's not your fault. Hopefully you can find a cure soon, as it won't be pleasant going out in public."

My next role was in an episode of Dignity and Decorum, which had been one of my favourite shows as a teenager. It was a shame that it was in its final series, but at the same time I was excited to have a role. 

The agency told me that I had to invite the director and my co-stars over, which I was a little nervous about. So, on the morning of the shoot (which began in the evening), I invited them for a visit.

"Lovely to see you, Caroline," the director, Kalama Turei, smiled. "How many children is it that you have?"
"Four," I replied. "Two sets of twins."

"How lovely," she said. "I imagine it's a lot of work, but a lot of fun too."
"Very true," I replied. 

That evening, I headed over to the studios. My hair was styled in a fancy updo and I was wearing a fancy off-white dress with grey and black detailing. I got chatting to one of my co-stars, who was called Takumi Okada. 

"It was lovely visiting you earlier," he said. "Your home's very tidy considering all your children!"
"Oh, well, there was a lot of tidying up before you all arrived," I laughed. "Plus they were all at preschool, which helped."

We then took to the stage for our first scene, which involved us sharing drinks. It was a beautiful set, reminding me of a stately home. 

My other scenes involved some flirting and an argument, which was standard for the show. It all went well - no falling over this time, which was just as well given my long dress - and when I got home I got a notification that I could officially be described as a "real rising star in the industry". It was exciting but also a little nerve-wracking; people would now be taking proper notice of me and judging my performances. The public could be very harsh, and so I knew that I'd have to work hard to maintain my reputation.