Rejected, Take 20
A Juntol Bittre story.
Alone in your hive, again.
You should feel lucky, you think to yourself. You have a hive to come back to, and a respiteblock to ruminate in. A place you can safely call your own. One of the benefits of that rich hue running through your veins. Your highblood status affords you many luxuries, yes, but one it doesn’t provide is job security.
Maybe the day could’ve gone better. You woke up less than an hour before the audition, but you at least made it on time. You even remembered most of your lines. Waiting in line was nervewracking. In front of and behind you were actors you knew already had plenty of work. Whether it be as extras or as various other bit parts, they’ve been on your shit list for a while. At least you can rest easy knowing Jannet’s wardrobe malfunction (which you had absolutely no play in) definitely cost her the role, too.
It was your time, you were up.
You awkwardly shuffled to the spot they pointed out to you. Script in hand, you waited impatiently for the mark to begin. Perhaps this should have been a sign things weren’t going to go well. You wouldn’t have cared, anyway. You just need to keep shooting your shot, even if the ball ends up behind the hoop. Speaking of.
They cleared their throat, and glanced down at the script by their hands.
They sent you home.
Fuck. Fuck. It was the stuttering, wasn’t it? Maybe if they made these things more personalized you’d have a fair chance, it’s not YOUR fault that the line outside was filled with B-listers. Totally uneven competition.
You toss another bottle of Cherry Coke half-heartedly at the overflowing trash bin at the other end of the block. Of course it was your fault. You may have remembered the lines, but you didn’t practice them. You really thought you could nail them on your second try. She’d be laughing at you, if she were here. That damned barnacle would be laughing at you, then the next minute scolding you for failing her dream.
Whatever. Just another movie to reviewbomb when it comes out. Just another set of crew members to attempt blacklisting. Not that you have any reliability, but your blog “I Hate Movies, and So Should You” has almost 50 followers. You’ll get the recognition you deserve soon enough. They’ll all see.
This is your last conscious thought, as streaks of faint violet roll down from your eyes and you once again fall asleep on the couch.