Hired | b.w.s

Four

I get off of the phone with my agent and sigh. Another audition I didn't get. I lie back on my small bed and look around at the small apartment I live in. I've tried my best to decorate it with plants and cute little ornaments, but the place somehow still feels devoid of emotion. I roll over and groan into my pillow. The familiar sting of rejection stabs at my heart uncomfortably. I've been in the acting business for two years now and all I've managed is a few adverts that were rarely aired on television. I accept that you have to start from the bottom and work your way to the top, but god is it exhausting. Rejection after rejection, pep talk after pep talk, I'm not sure how much more of it I can take. Maybe it's just not meant for me?

I hear my phone buzz and immediately look at it, hoping to find my agent telling me about an audition going well. Unfortunately, it's the creep that won't stop texting me. It's been two weeks since he messaged me for the first time and it has been two weeks of me telling him to piss off. This guy just doesn't give up!

*Hey, babe;)*

He dropped the 'Mule' nickname after the first week but 'Dick Boy' stuck around, it's now his contact name so I'm warned if he ever messages me.

*What do you want?*

I stand up and decide to stop feeling sorry for myself, I walk the few steps to the tiny corner which is supposed to be my kitchen. Searching through the cupboards, I try my best to find something appetising to eat. Once again, my cupboards are practically empty due to my lack of income from the coffee shop I work part time at to pay rent. When I realise there's nothing but crackers and a tin of baked beans, I sigh and walk to the large window, sliding the doors open and stepping outside to the tiny balcony that is about two feet wide.

The view is exceptional, it's one of the main reasons why I rent this place. I look out onto the busy city of London, hustling and bustling below me. Little men and women dressed in grey and blue suits routinely walk along the streets, blinded by their busy schedules. I never want to become a cog in that machine. The same thing every single day; wake up, eat, go to work, come home, eat, sleep. It's depressing.

My phone interrupts my thoughts and I automatically groan. I know exactly who it is.

*You;)*

I roll my eyes at his answer to my previous question.

*You don't know who I am or what I look like, in fact all you know is that I'm a girl, which I could be lying about. I could be a forty year old man right now.*

I laugh at myself and lean against the balcony, the cold breeze blows my hair and makes me smile. My phone buzzes, making my smile drop.

*Send me a pic then;)*

*Oh my god! You're such a pervert! How did you even get a girls number in the first place? Oh wait, that's why she gave you a fake number haha*

I chuckle to myself and return to looking at the view below me. I watch Big Ben way off in the distance, surrounded by a floating fog. The sound of honking cars and roaring engines echo through the cold air as rush hour approaches. My phone buzzes once again.

*Chill man, just trying to be friendly. What are you up to?:)*

I frown at his response, no flirting and no wink. His mood has suddenly changed. I type a response with a frown on my face.

*Busy being important, you?*

I lie, I decide not to let him know how sad my life is with its rejections, crappy coffee and empty cupboards.

*Busy being unimportant:)*

I move away from the balcony and plop onto my bed as I type my reply.