There were a few words that could be used to describe Aimee Malone's fingers. Long, certainly. Slender. Delicate, yet also tough, if the speed of her long-established punch was anything to go by. Skilled, too, since she was the queen of making a hand-me-down, or a charity buy fit the new wearer perfectly. Unfortunately, one of those learned skills had never been music.

Laura O'Leary, her character in Getting Over Alyson, was described as sweet-looking, which Aimee could certainly manage, and as a composer, which Aimee certainly wasn't. Sadly, in order to sell the idea that Laura was, in fact, as good as every character in the movie said she was, Aimee had to learn how to fake it, and fast. Which was how she had ended up taking impromptu music lessons both at the university and at the film studios themselves, squeezing in time to practise between her filming schedule and her applied dissertation and modular coursework.

And that wasn't even the scary bit. At least she knew that if she wasn't up to par when it came time to film that particular scene with Eregor, who was playing Bran, the shots of their hands could be switched with the hands of people who actually knew what they were doing. But the singing ... now that was something Aimee couldn't hide from. One thing she had agreed with almost on the first day was that she should do all her own singing, that it wouldn't look or sound right if she was just mouthing the words to someone else's track laid down before she ever got on set. Lelah had seemed quite pleased with her for accepting that challenge, but again, Aimee hadn't realised how much work would be involved.

Her vocal coach at the university, thankfully, was a singer as well, and had joined with her other tutors in banding together to make sure that she was fully prepared every day she was on set. It was a major coup for the university to get one of their students into a major production in the city, much less a movie, and they were staking their theatrical reputation on Aimee's performance on screen. Much to her relief, this meant a little leeway on deadlines and a lot of prep work when she wasn't in class.

That still didn't make it any easier right now, though. There was something very intimidating about standing in a small recording sound booth in front of a wide microphone, watching through the glass as the sound engineers dithered back and forth sorting out playback and levels of bass and treble. She bit her lip, glancing down at the lyrics she'd written out a few minutes ago just to make sure she knew them, propping the wrinkled piece of paper on the music stand in front of her as she fiddled with the headphones hanging around her neck.

A sudden blast of music at ear-bleeding volume from the speakers at her throat made her wince, and she looked up at the engineers' booth with a wounded expression, in time to catch Ajay's sympathetic wince and wave as he turned the master volume down.

"Okay, Aimee, sorry about that ... we're pretty much set here. How're you holding up?"

She shrugged, glancing at the little speaker in the corner that allowed her to hear the sound mixer's voice as he spoke into his microphone. "Sick?" was her submission in reply, relieved when it earned a warm laugh rather than a concerned suggestion that they postpone this session again.

"You'll be great," Ajay assured her confidently. "I've heard the rehearsals, all you have to do is sing your little heart out into that microphone. Just be glad Lelah trusts me to get the performance she wants by myself."

"Gee, thanks for that, Ajay," was offered from between gritted teeth as Aimee paled.

The thought of being imprisoned inside this tiny booth with Lelah on the other side of the glass, watching and listening to every last nuance and mistake, was a truly horrifying one. It wasn't that the director was a scary woman ... she was just intense, in a way that Aimee had never previously come across before. It was intimidating, to say the least, and the young actress was constantly terrified that she was letting the woman down.

As she settled the headphones snugly about her ears, Aimee drew in a slow breath, watching as Ajay drew his grin under control and turned his attention to playback and recording. She'd warmed up as thoroughly as she could before even setting foot in here, so hopefully it was just a matter of singing the two songs in front of her over and over until Ajay considered them absolutely right. Hopefully.

As Ajay nodded to her, and she heard the first gentle stroke of fingers over piano keys in her headphones, Aimee took a deep breath and let the melody out. She had a feeling today was going to be a very long day.