Hunger

1

The sound of the microwave beeping takes me out of my thoughts. Today's an important day, a day I'll probably try and fail to write about in my journal tonight. A day that I'll, hopefully, look back on fondly in the future—but i shouldn't get my hopes up. The chances of me getting hired are slim, I know it, but that doesn't mean that I don't really want this job. It's good to be realistic I know that, so I'll go in with low expectations. I don't even entirely know what I'm getting myself into.

When Luca sent me the casting call list for a guitarist local to LA for a big "up and coming" artist I was thrilled. I've been working at a local salon for the past 6 months and as much as I love my clients and coworkers I know that being a musician has always been my biggest dream.

I found it a bit odd that the audition notice had absolutely no information besides a location and time but I guess the artist just wants to keep it more private.

I grab the two steaming hot waffles from the microwave and throw them on the counter quickly grabbing a butter knife and jar of peanut butter.

The audition starts at 10 and it's currently 9:23 according to my microwave.

"Shit," I curse under my breath.

Last night I didn't sleep more than an hour rethinking how today would go. Planning out every second of this morning and chewing at the inside of my cheek for what felt like hours. When I finally was able to close my eyes and drift off I swear my alarm was going off minutes after my eyes finally closed.

I struggled to get ready this morning, it felt like nothing could go right. I called Luca maybe 8 times with a completely new outfit on every time. What do you even wear to your dream job interview? I've been dreaming of this since I was a little girl and my dad first put me in guitar lessons. My teachers all called me a natural, but growing up with a single dad and little brother who needed taking care of made becoming an artist difficult coming immediately out of high school. So I went to beauty school that way I could save up working at a salon and hopefully take a shot at my dream when I was a bit more financially stable.

"...and now it's here and I have no idea what to wear," I cried to Luca earlier on the phone, now wearing outfit number 7 of the day.

"I think you look amazing in everything you put on," Luca says for 12th time today.

"You have to say that you're my best friend," I say, now walking back to my closet to try something more casual.

"I really do though and I also don't think your outfit will determine if you get the job or not," he responds.

"I know, I know but I wanna look my best," I groan from the closet as I pull on a pair of blue jeans.

"I get it you're nervous, but I think you're gonna do great and you always look hot," he tells me. He's always been my biggest supporter in my music career. After all he's the reason I even know about this job at all.

"Ok ok what about this?" I ask as I step back into frame, now wearing my blue levi's with a simple white tank top and my favorite staple in my closet; a thrifted leather jacket.

"That's the one," Luca says in awe almost.

"Are you sure it's not too casual, I wanna make-"

"A good impression! I know and you will, you look fabulous now go and finish getting ready before you're late for the future pop star," he interrupts, but I know he's right.

"Ok, i'm going I love you please send prayers," I answer going to hang up.

"I'm not religious but I'll light a candle," he laughs.