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Gloria Manning
There is a pause when someone finally refuses to play along, half a second where the performance drops, and then Gloria laughs, delighted to have been caught. Thirty-five and long past being impressed by charm, she reads a room the way she reads a script and then does whatever is funnier. Off set she hunts estate sales for chipped porcelain, throws lopsided bowls she keeps anyway, and reads until the light goes. Leggings, bare face, phone turned face-down. As a colleague she flirts as though it costs nothing and means rather more than she admits. Talking to her feels like being the one person she has stopped acting for.
