Alagoran Melodies

Chapter 1: Just My Luck

I blinked back tears as I stumbled my way to my apartment. Today had been awful. First, I had overslept and been late to my job, causing me to be fired. Then when I had tried out for the local play, the director told me that there was no chance for a callback. There wasn't even a chance for an understudy or to do lights or paint sets. Just go home and never come back because I was never getting a part. That stung. Then to top it all off, my boyfriend of 2 years was cheating on me behind my back with my best friend. She could keep him with no strings attached.

I carefully put my keys into my door and opened it. A stench greeted me. Oh, yeah. I forgot to do the dishes. For two weeks. And the laundry needed to get done; it was a miracle I even had anything to wear. Mail on the table to sort through, job applications to send out, bills to find some way to pay. I slumped against my door and buried my face in my knees. I just couldn't catch a break. My parents kept offering to help me pay my bills. In their eyes, I was still seven instead of seventeen. I blamed it on my summer birthday. Problem was, this was an assignment for school. They claimed it taught us to be self-sufficient. Every time we had to call in a favor we lost points on this year-long assignment. Stupid senior project. Stupid adulting. Stupid job. Stupid director. Stupid boyfriend. Stupid summer birthday. Stupid life. Stupid everything.

Suddenly, something fell on my head and into my lap. It seemed to be an envelope. I groaned and opened it, thinking it was yet another bill. To my surprise, it was a letter written in swirling cursive.

Dear Miss Hampton, it read, I understand that you are quite talented in theater and music. I am looking for a star, and I believe I have found her. However, I would need to interview you in person to solidify your role. Of course, there would be monetary compensation for you if you decide to take the job.

I will be at The Fig Tree and Stream at 6:00 PM on Thursday the 29th of this month if you would like to discuss my business proposal. If you don't show, I will assume that you aren't interested.

I hope to see you soon.

Best Regards,

G. T.

I dropped the letter and danced around my apartment before tripping on a pile of laundry. I wasn't a failure. This G. T. guy wanted me to star in their production of... something I assumed that would be good.

I pulled out my phone and marked my calendar for Thursday the 29th before squeaking in fear. That was tomorrow. I looked at my apartment. The place needed a deep cleaning before I left tomorrow. Because it would be embarrassing if G. T. came by my apartment and found it to be a pigsty. I quickly started working.

I might have annoyed some of my neighbors with my midnight vacuuming and washing, but they'll live. I arrived at class on Thursday with an espresso and jittery butterflies in my stomach. My friends noticed my nervousness and insisted on knowing what was up. I just shook my head and focused on making my portfolio perfect for G. T.

After school, I spent two hours making sure I looked perfect. I ended up wearing a grey heather sweater dress with white leggings and flats. I debated wearing heels to make me taller than my 5' 3" frame would suggest, but the last time I wore heels, I had tripped and spilled cherry punch on the principle at Homecoming.

Finally, I called a taxi and started toward The Fig Tree and Stream. I would have taken the public transportation system to save money, but I figured that if I was a minute late, G. T. would assume I didn't want the job and give it someone else. And I needed the money, and if I made it doing the thing I loved, well, that was a big bonus!

I arrived at the restaurant with five minutes to spare. I spent them reading and rereading my portfolio and the menu. Suddenly, a man stood in front of me in a black suit. "Miss Hampton?" he asked me. I stood up and immediately regretted my decision to just wear flats. He towered a good 6-8 inches over me.