I just wanted to play make-believe. And get paid for it.
I began competing in dance at age four. At sixteen I held the most first-place national titles in North America. I booked my first tour with a pop music artist at age seventeen. After the tour, I took the money I saved up and said goodbye to dance.
The dance studio owner threw a child's tap shoe at my face when I told her I was leaving New York, and quitting dance. "Bye, mom," I said, blood dripping from my eyebrow. I had a flight to catch.
I secured a one bedroom apartment in North Hollywood for $850 a month. Studio City, a ten-minute drive away. Hollywood, twenty.
The Circus Liquor clown overlooked my new home. I remembered Cher being robbed at Circus Liquor in the movie Clueless, and I took the iconic clown for an auspicious sign.
I did not have a clue as to how I would break into the industry, but transplanting myself in Los Angeles seemed like an obvious start.
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General FictionAn aspiring actor detailing his first year in Los Angeles as he attempts to break into the Entertainment Industry. Eighteen-year-old Ryan Ash molds himself into an eclectic assortment of odd characters to survive while using these personalities to...
