“Stop whining and wipe that mess off your face!” Orynn barked as she stormed into my dorm room. She sounded like a general, not the petite girl barely five feet tall that she was. “What’s all this drama about, huh? So what if you didn’t get the role!”
“But they picked you,” I mumbled into my pillow, refusing to lift my face.
“And now the whole academy is gossiping that I got the part not because I’m a budding actress, but because I’m Myroslav Dovzhenko’s daughter.” Orynn’s voice dripped with bitter sarcasm and barely concealed hurt.
It was that tone alone that made me finally raise my head from the pillow and look at my friend closely. Orynn looked… different, not her usual self. Normally, she radiated a confidence that bordered on arrogance, along with an infectious optimism and zest for life. But now, her beautiful brown eyes—so dark they seemed almost black—were filled with sadness, resentment, and something deeper, something you wouldn’t expect to see in the eyes of a twenty-year-old often labeled a “spoiled rich girl.” Yet Orynn looked so miserable that I forced myself to push past my own depression and crawl out of the hideout I’d been wallowing in for the past week since the casting rejection. I wouldn’t have budged for myself, but for my friend, I managed to get out of bed and at least try to comfort her.
“Can I help somehow?” I asked, sitting her down beside me. “Anything at all?”
“Can you knock some sense into my dear old dad?” she snapped irritably, staring at the wall past me.
“Uh… well, I could whack him over the head with a frying pan, but I doubt that’d fix anything,” I said, my voice so flat I could play Ophelia without a single rehearsal.
“Yeah, I don’t think it would either,” Orynn agreed. She could’ve played Ophelia too.
“What’s the problem this time?” I asked, bracing myself for another cringe-worthy tale from the lives of the rich, famous, and their offspring.
I knew Orynn’s circumstances well—her life seemed like a dream to those unaware of the messy details of her family dynamics. Her father, the renowned and wildly popular director, was undeniably talented. His films were massively successful and sparked intense public interest. But the reality wasn’t as rosy as outsiders imagined. His talent was the only redeeming quality in his character. In fact, that talent was pretty much the extent of his virtues. Orynn had told me that Myroslav Dovzhenko was a complete failure as a father and an even worse husband to both of his wives. Seven years ago, Orynn’s parents divorced after he cheated on her quiet, gentle mother, Lidia Ivanivna, with a young, flashy drama student named Milana Zaychenko. Milana had shown up for an audition, only to become his mistress.
For four years, the newly formed family enjoyed their so-called bliss. Milana starred in her husband’s films, managed to give him an heir in between, and then bolted to Europe, trading the local director for a French counterpart. Naturally, she didn’t take her son with her.
All these dramatic events unfolded right before Orynn’s eyes, shattering her world into ashes. The Dovzhenkos, of course, tried their best to maintain communication and present the image of a civilized family. But Orynn confided in me details that made me seriously consider acting on my frying-pan threat against Mr. Myroslav.
I understood perfectly what it was like to be the child of divorced parents forced to keep up appearances. My mother, who ran an agency for hiring domestic staff—nannies, governesses, tutors, and housekeepers—had to maintain her reputation and feign calm even when my father, in the most cliché fashion, cheated on her with my math tutor. And during the divorce, when he tried to claim half of Mom’s business. And even when he robbed the apartment the court awarded to Mom and me.
So, I got Orynn like no one else could. We bonded from the very first day of classes, as if sensing a shared kinship through our painful experiences. Like sisters in misfortune, we found each other to keep from losing our minds. That’s why I brushed aside my own woes, sensing that my friend needed my support.
“Dad’s at it again,” Orynn sighed despairingly. “That Milana—curse her every which way—has come wagging her tail again, and it’s got my old man running around like a herd of deer in spring.”
“She’s trying to come back, or what?” I asked, surprised.
“She’s decided she wants her son. ‘I want to see my child grow up,’” Orynn mimicked Milana’s whiny tone before angrily kicking the nightstand. “What a plucked chicken!”
“Yeah, total chicken… But why does she even want him now?”
“She’s still bitter at Dad for winning custody of Bohdan. She wants to hurt him as much as possible, so she’s using Bohdan as a weapon. Sure, Dad’s no saint, but this isn’t right. She doesn’t even care about the kid…”
“Definitely a plucked chicken… Some kind of cuckoo mother…”
“And to top it all off, the latest nanny fled Dad’s mansion like her life depended on it. So the poor kid’s just left hanging. And my… saintly father… decided I’d make a perfect babysitter. Because, you know, I’m his half-sister or whatever… How does that even make sense?”
“Well, on a human level, I kind of get it…” I tried to soften the edges. “After all, it’s an emergency he can’t control…”
“This isn’t an emergency!” Orynn wailed. “It’s some kind of hellspawn, not a child! Look, that so-called mother, Milana, spoiled the boy so much that nannies keep running for the hills. There’s not a single agency in town willing to work with him—heck, there aren’t even any nannies left!”
“You’re exaggerating,” I laughed. “A six-year-old can’t be that much of a monster!”
“You haven’t seen him,” Orynn muttered darkly, and something in her tone was far too convincing.
***
“I’m sorry,” I said. “So, Milana’s back in Ukraine now?”
“Yeah, she wrote to Dad that she’ll be here in a few days… She never made it as a star in France. She’s got no knack for languages—speaks French with a horrible accent. So, she mostly lives as a housewife, flitting around fancy social events. Now she’s decided a kid would be good for her image. That French guy probably expects her to give him an heir, but Milana’s not about to ruin her figure. Especially since she’s already got a ready-made six-year-old son. And she couldn’t care less that Bohdan is the center of my father’s world. So, Dad’s having a rough time right now. Plus, his feelings for Milana haven’t gone anywhere. He’s got, what do you call it… a midlife crisis…”
“Maybe he’s saving that role for her?” A sudden realization hit me. “Hoping that if she’s around on set, he’ll have a shot at winning her back… Ugh… Then there’s no point in me even trying!”
“No, you’ve got to try!” Orynn insisted. “That role can’t go to a traitor who abandoned her own child! No way! And besides, I don’t want to act alongside her. I’ve already been cast as the heroine’s friend…”
“But I didn’t make it to the second round,” I sighed heavily. “Whether he’s planning to give the role to his ex or not, I’ve got no chance!”
“Don’t worry about that!” Her brown eyes, so much like her father’s, flashed with determination. “Promise to do everything I say, and that role will be yours!”
I was completely lost.
“I’m not sleeping with your dad!” I declared upfront. “Sorry, but older guys aren’t my thing!”
“He’s just over forty,” Orynn said, a bit offended. “He’s hardly old. But don’t worry, no one’s pushing you into his bed. Milana’s got a hundred-point lead on you there. You couldn’t even kiss him properly! Let alone anything spicier…”
“I’d like to see you in my shoes,” I said, a little hurt. “Having to kiss a total stranger in front of a packed auditorium!”
“Well, darling, we’re actresses. Better get used to it,” she smirked playfully. “But like I said, no one’s after your virtue!”
“Then what’s your plan? Are you going to convince your dad to give me the role? Pull some strings?”
“No, I’d never do that,” Orynn said firmly. “Even if it were a matter of life and death, I wouldn’t ask him to slot someone into his film. That’s out of the question. But I will ask him for something else for you.”
“Can you stop speaking in riddles?” I frowned.
“Fine, I’ll be straight—I’m going to recommend you as a nanny for my little brother!”
“What?” My eyes nearly popped out of my head. “Orynn, you’ve got to be kidding!”
“Not at all,” she shook her head. “I can’t handle him anymore. I gave Dad an ultimatum—I’ll babysit Bohdan only until the end of the week, then I’m done! So, he asked me to contact a staffing agency and arrange for a few top nannies to come for interviews.”
“But you need documents, references—I know how this works, my mom’s in the business… And what kind of nanny am I? I don’t have siblings or nieces or nephews. I don’t even know how to change a diaper!”
“Bohdan doesn’t need diapers changed. He’s pretty independent and starting school next year,” Orynn said. “You just need to keep him entertained until Dad gets home from work. Read him a book, heat up lunch, make sure he’s not glued to his phone all day, take him for a walk… Nothing complicated. And you’ll be paid well for it.”
“I still don’t see how this gets me the role,” I said skeptically. “And your dad will recognize me right away. You remember how he stared at me back then?”
“I remember,” she nodded seriously. “That’s why we’ll make you look like a different person. Makeup, a wig, the works. Then, when the truth comes out, he’ll be blown away by how well you played the part of a nanny.”
“I don’t know…” The idea still didn’t sit right with me. “What about school? And the documents?”
“Take a leave of absence,” my friend said decisively. “Isn’t this worth the lead role in my dad’s film?”
“It is,” I sighed. “I’d do anything to act in his movie. Even if I get kicked out of the academy, I won’t regret it…”
“No one’s kicking you out! You’ll file for a leave due to family circumstances and come back later! We’ll handle the documents ourselves.”
“How?” I asked, stunned.
“You’ll borrow some forms and stamps from your mom’s office. Just swipe her key from her purse, grab a couple of papers, and put it back—she won’t notice. Dad won’t check them; he’s too busy. I’ll write you a recommendation from some rich, famous family with kids. Trust me, he won’t scrutinize the paperwork. The key is to make a good impression during the interview. And to get along with the kid.”
“What if I don’t? What if I can’t connect with him?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out!” Orynn declared. “I’m going to tell you everything about my dad and brother—what they like, what they don’t, all of it. We’ll turn you into a regular Mary Poppins, a perfect lady who knows and can do everything!”
“I can’t pull this off…” I squeaked.
“Do you want this role? Then you have to make it work!” Orynn gave me a stern look. “That’s it, no more objections. We’re short on time! By the end of next week, you’re going to be Bohdan’s nanny!”