Letter Stamps (Going Through Work)

A Queen's Stamp

  Young Na'jjan Antar held an envelop in her small hands, clutching the paper to her heart as she looked around the corner and saw her newly acquired crush, James Kindred. Na'jjan slowed her rapid heartbeat and turned the corner of the brick elementary school, and she started to walk toward the young boy.

  The unsuspecting boy felt a light tap on his shoulder and turned around to meet the caramel eyes of young Na'jjan, who held out her polka-dotted envelope with a pink heart sticker sealing it shut. The warm blush that spread on her tan skin was enough to give little James the hint that she was confessing to him, and he stared at the paper as if he was disgusted.

  "Look! Na'jjan is giving James a letter!" Shouted one kid.

  "Gross! James is gonna get cooties!"

  James's ears burned with embarrassment, but Na'jjan remained unaffected and still a ray of sunshine.

  "What is that?" He ripped the envelope from her small hands and tore through the sticker with a red face.

  Wincing at the recklessness of the boy, she tried to smile sweetly at him, "Well....it's a letter for you. I didn't know how to say I like you in words, so I wrote you a letter!"

  As he read the first page, James fiddled with his Batman watch. After looking to see there was a second page, he sneered at her and ripped the pages in-half. Shocked and upset, Na'jjan didn't move a millimeter. All of her thoughts and feelings written for this sweet boy were now being shred up like her heart.

  "That's gross Na'jjan," James dropped the pieces on the muddy ground and stepped on them, "now I have girl cooties!"

  As she stared at the torn pieces of her hard work, the kids around her giggled and yelled about James having cooties, returning to their daily playtime and ignoring the tears forming in Na'jjan's eyes. She wiped away her tears and bent down to pick up the shreds of paper, then she threw them in the trash next to the basketball hoop.

  That was the first time Na'jjan had been rejected, and she vowed it would be her last.

  *

It was a sweet, June morning in Champaign-Urbana, Illinois. The University of Illinois campus was covered in dew that glistened in the sun-rise.

Na'jjan Antar walked up the steps to Lincoln Hall Theater, shifting through the musical suggestions for the next musical they were going to put on in early December. Bullets Over Broadway was the center piece Na'jjan was pushing to get them to accept, yet the musical was yet to be decided.

  Na'jjan was one of the students that interpreted acting as if it was their own life force, their oxygen, their ATP. Without the theater, she felt like her life would be nothing but poorly kept mink skins and faux, worthless pearls. No matter the college, Harvard, Duke, or Brown, she would never leave theater behind for anything or anyone. She spent all of her time watching musicals like; Waitress, Heathers, Aladdin: The Broadway Show, Dear Evan Hansen, and her all-time favorite, Bullets Over Broadway.

  Every Spotify playlist she listened to contained the minimum of 10 musical soundtracks, and every letter she wrote contained 3 or 4 lines from a musical. There was something magical about the musicals she participated in, each show has their own special piece to leave behind in the theater industry, and every actor leaves a part of them within the character they play. Each stage piece as important as the songs themselves, each background character as essential as the script they read off of. Every person has an important role, every role has their place, and every place has their stardom.

  Lost in her mind, she didn't notice the hoard of girls piled on the steps of the theater and she bumped into one of them. Muttering a quick sorry to the woman, she peeked through the crowd to see what the commotion was and spotted a most infamous hairstyle. She huffed in annoyance and plowed her way though the group of girls muttering a few sorry's here and there. When she reached the front the college boy looked up and raised an eyebrow at her in amusement.

  "Ike, I'd appreciate it if you'd take your guitar show to the studio instead of blocking the way to the theater. It's bothersome."

  His brown eyes sparkled with joy and his boyish grin earned a swoon for the girl behind him, "Na'jjan the music police...you know if you don't like music then theater isn't for you."

  She sarcastically grinned before crossing her arms over her files and leaned towards his face.

  "Ike Bakker, I will not repeat myself so listen very closely. Remove yourself from these steps, or I will physically do it myself. If you have no intention of signing up for theater or watching practice, then take your fan base somewhere else."

  The grin from his face fell and he shrugged in response, "Like I said, if you hate music you shouldn't be in theater."

  "I don't hate music, I hate people. Or more specifically, I hate you and your fans."

  He feigned hurt and clutched his chest, "Ouch Antar, right in my feels."

  She rolled her eyes and stepped around him. Not realizing her previous words would soon spark a devious thought in his mind, Ike looked up at the building entrance. The girls behind him laughed and whispered as the girl retreated into the building, but Ike's brain was processing her words before.

  '...If you have no intention of signing up for theater or watching practice, then take your fan base somewhere else...'

  "Either join theater or get lost, huh?"

*

Hi there, it's your author Eli. I just wanted to say thanks for clicking on my book, even if you aren't here for the long run and we're hoping to snag a good book, thanks for viewing anyway!
-lots of love,
Eli.