Post Austin

1

"Dick!" I shout at the rude guy that just shoved past me and my best friend, Brenda.

"Look, you know I'm down for anything and boo I'll support you through anything but this?!" she motions to the raging club behind me, "I told you we'd figure something out, you don't have to do this." she offers, crossing her arms.

The cue moves and I step forward, "Tonight's the last chance to audition," I say flipping my shoulderlength hair over my shoulder, "I should at least try, I'm probably not even going to get it."

"So why are we here then if you know you're not gonna get it?" she whines and I roll my eyes.

"I told you to go home, I'll call you after." I once again offer.

She tugs at her thin material jacket, the afternoon air had started to smell of winter.

"I won't be long, you're torturing yourself." I coerce her further.

"Fine, but I'm going to be up all night until you call me."

We exchange hugs and farewells and her slender figure retreats and hauls a cab. The line moves slowly and before long the sun fades into the silhouettes of tall buildings.

The bright lights of the city illuminates the bustle of the nightlife folk.

At last I gain access to the club and order the cheapest drink on the menu, which is water but I order it in a glass with an olive so I could at least pretend I'm not too broke to be an alcoholic.

I wander the floor and inbetween the overdressed crowd and blazing lights. I follow the signs to where the auditions are supposed to be held and complete all the paperwork.

I am told to wait in a line for the second time tonight and I huff in agitation.

The club I am currently in is named The Basement which I know sounds underground and grungy when ironically it is pretty modern and... Sleek. It's my first time here and I feel out of place because of my attire.

My worn ankle high Allstars doesn't come close to any of the high priced gear these club-goers are sporting. For pants I had on plain and simple unknown brand skinny's with a white tanktop and a plaid, red long-sleeved shirt.

I am sticking out like a sore thumb.
Well if you're looking at overworked, underpaid, college dropouts and waitresses then you're probably looking at me and Brenda. Safe to say I don't blend in with the crowd.

We thought we could make it, rise above inflation and the economy and life. We thought we were going to be the ones who make it out. Instead we are the ones who would rather buy weed than bread.

It didn't start out this way though, we were in college and young and fiery and oh-so-clueless.

I mean how hard can it be to become rich?

If you just work hard you'll be rewarded, or you could save up, or become and actor, or a singer and then life would be easy, right?

So me and Brenda kind of, sort of actually got emancipated.

No more Thanksgiving dinners and definitely no more money for college, since we were so independent. Sure my parents withdrew their banishment only days after me and Brenda left, I stayed. Because we got each other, and I couldn't leave her when her parents basically disowned her, we did this together, we'll keep on doing it together.

And we slowly built a life for ourselves, we have a less-than-decent apartment and... not much else to be honest. We have...

Well Brenda has a job at a local steakhouse as a waitress, I worked there too until I got fired this afternoon for not wanting to lick my manager's balls.