SAVE ME FROM YESTERDAY

RASTRO 05

💙🌻

Rhian's knee bounced restlessly beneath her desk. She blinked past the grittiness in her eyes, focusing on the application on the screen in front of her, a single mom selling handcrafted jewelry in an online marketplace.

She seemed nice enough and had real talent with her jewelry, but unfortunately, there wasn't a lot Rhian could do for her, at least not within the context of the show.

A big part of the draw for Revival's audience was the makeover at the end, when she debuted the client's new space and held a splashy reopening event. Having a storefront was essential.

She clicked on the next application, and a familiar face filled her screen. Glaiza had told her she'd applied to the show, but somehow, Rhian hadn't quite believed it until this moment.

Why didn't she remember receiving this application? Probably she'd taken one look at Glaiza's business and moved on. Bars were an automatic "no" every single time.

It's not you, Glaiza. It's me.

Curious, Rhian moved her cursor to the right and clicked on the video Glaiza had recorded to accompany her application. She sat on the couch in her living room, talking earnestly to the camera as she described how she'd inherited the bar from her father, how it had belonged to his parents before him, and how she was currently on the verge of losing it.

Tears glistened in Glaiza's eyes as photos appeared beside her on the screen, a slideshow of family pictures showing a middle-aged man with Glaiza's same infectious smile pouring drinks behind the bar, a little girl with pigtails reading a book on the floor behind it. The next photo showed young Glaiza gazing adoringly up at her father.

"I grew up here," present-day Glaiza told her.

"This is what the bar used to look like on a Saturday night."

Footage showed a packed bar buzzing with the sounds of laughter and conversation. Glaiza and her father were side by side behind the bar, tirelessly mixing drinks.

"And this is what it looks like on a Saturday night now."

She cut to a video showing about a third of the former crowd, empty stools everywhere.

"Please help me save my bar. I run a popular YouTube channel and am very comfortable in front of a camera. I'm also a loyal viewer of your show, and I think Himawari's would be a perfect fit for your audience. Thank you for your consideration."

Rhian closed the video and rested her forehead against her palms. Yes, Himawari's would be a perfect fit for Revival. The camera loved Glaiza, and Rhian's viewers would too.

But the thought of walking back into that bar-of spending every day for the next two weeks there-it was too painful. She'd set certain boundaries for herself years ago, and she had to respect them.

She'd find someone else, someone even better, an overlooked ratings gem lurking somewhere in this pile of discarded season two applications. She'd record a replacement episode so solid, the network would have no choice but to give her a third season.

Revival had never been part of her career plan, but it had become invaluable to her. Even though some of it was staged and all of it was curated to maximize emotional appeal for the audience, she'd gotten the chance to be a part of something bigger than she'd ever expected.

It was exciting. Energizing. It had given her back a part of herself she'd been missing. And she'd tripled her income from Ramos Marketing, which was no small feat.

In short, she wanted a third season. And a fourth. As many as she could get.

She squinted at the next application. Carla from Cupcake Creations was outgoing and funny in the attached video, but her business was already doing reasonably well. There wasn't enough drama here for a Revival segment.