𝘛𝘖𝘓𝘌𝘙𝘈𝘛𝘌 𝘐𝘛 ⇢ r.bowen

16

ELIZABETHS POV- March 13th

You know that dumb old saying? The one that your mom says when you complain about getting you phone taken away until you get your grades up. "That's not fair!" Not that one. The response.

"Life isn't fair."

Life isn't fair. Yeah. That's true.

Nini just got back from YAC. And Miss Jen had the nerve to give her a part in the musical.

She made up a whole role for her. 'The rose'. You know, the one in the glass case that's slowly dying along with the beast's hopes for true love.

Not only did she add a whole entire new role for her, she also allowed her to have a solo. That she gets to write. And perform it in the play.

It was originally supposed to be a duet, with Ricky. But Nini cut him out if it. They've been fighting about it for a bit, actually. I only know all the gory details because Ricky's been whining to me about it all week. I can't stand it.

Thats really not fair. That Nini gets a better part than me, when I actually auditioned? And have been at rehearsals all this time?

But I guess Miss Jen needs all the talent she can get if she wants to win this stupid musical contest she's got us entered in. The Menkies. Whatever.

That's why I decided to quit. I hate being treated this way. Like I suck at acting. Like I can't sing. Clearly I can, because my Instagram page has nearly a million followers now.

After school, we have about 15 minutes until rehearsals actually start. So I go into Miss Jen's office, looking for her, planning to let her know that I'm no longer going to be a part of this dumb play. But she wasn't in there. Fine, I'll have to wait.

I stand there for a second, but then I decide to sit at one of the chairs opposite hers at her desk. I glance at the clock and decide maybe I should check the bomb shelter instead, but as I'm getting up I see something catch my eye. A rule book for the Menkies.

I'm not sure what made me want to flip through it, but I did. And I just so happened to stumble across a page that said the original score of the script could not be altered. Translation: you can't write an original song, or add a part to the play.

And then I just so happened to see a phone number to the people who run the whole contest.

And then I just so happened to pick up my phone and call it.

*****
It was later that night and I was just kind of sprawled out on my living room floor feeling sorry for myself.

I do this a lot. Blankets all over me, so many that my body felt uncomfortably hot. Lights off. Movie on. A pint of ice cream I'd just finished on the coffee table.

Outside it was raining, hard. So much so that you could hear it pounding on the roof, against the windows. It was already super late. Almost midnight. Good thing it's Friday.

I didn't find Miss Jen. And I didn't exactly finish looking for her. I just skipped out on rehearsals completely, without saying anything to anybody.and when my phone started ringing with texts from everyone asking where I was at, I shut it off. I felt too bad after snitching on Nini to the contest directors. At the same time, I shouldn't really feel bad. I knew what I was doing. I knew what I wanted to happen. A bad outcome. Does that make me a bad person?

My thoughts are interrupted by the doorbell ringing. God, who would even come over at this hour? I'm not answering the door. I can't do it. I don't feel good. Eating an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's does that to a person. I felt too fat to be wearing my silk Victoria's Secret shorts and tank top pajama set after that.

The doorbell rings again, although this time more aggressively. Like, whoever was standing outside was just pressing the button over and over.

It was probably my mom. Maybe she forgot her key again. Usually I don't keep the door locked, but mom said that was a bad habit. But now she's the one stuck in the rain. So who really won?

But when I open the door, it wasn't my mom standing on the porch. It was Ricky.

The dim porch light shined on him as the only source of light. Otherwise it was pitch black outside.

He looked as bad as I felt. Worse, even. First off, he was soaked in rain and then I felt bad for locking the door and taking all day to open it because otherwise he knows he's always welcome to walk right in. His hair, his clothes, everything were drenched.

Not only that, but he was crying. I was so shocked. Usually I'm the crier.

He doesn't say anything when I answer the door, just walks in silently.

I hold out my arms and he falls into them immediately, wrapping his around me tightly and crying into my shoulder. He didn't make any noise when he cried. No loud, choked out sobs. Just silent tears falling down his cheeks, which somehow made it that much worse.

I know better than to ask what's wrong right away. When I'm upset, and someone does that to me, I feel worse because it's too hard to explain myself. It makes me cry harder and struggle to get any words out. So I just let him cry.

After a while, he calms down. We're sitting on my couch, and he grabs a throw pillow and holds it tightly to his chest.

"I'm sorry for just showing up like this. I know it's late and everything but—"

"No, no," I interrupt quickly. "Don't apologize. You're always welcome here."

He smiles a bit but it looks like a struggle. "It's Nini," he says, grimacing. "She... we broke up."