Insane Playhouse (a Cameron Dallas fanfict)

3

I wake up to the sound of a pounding on my door.

Go awayyy.

I pull on a sweatshirt and gather my hair into a messy ponytail. I probably look like I've got a hangover or something. But then again, most mornings I have a hangover.

Opening the front door, I try to adjust my eyes to the sudden light. Once I am able to focus, I see a very angry landlord standing before me, holding a manilla envelope. Oh no.

Based on his expression, it doesn't seem as though he will be affable in the conversation that is about to take place.

"Hi Mr. Ken," I say with a raised eyebrow and slight smile. He doesn't break his rough facade.

Then he pulls out a white paper from the envelope and shoves it in front of my face.

"3 MONTHS!" He vehemently spits. A shudder runs through me.

"I'll have the money soon-"

"One week Anderson! You have one week!" Then he shuts my own door in my face. The bill flutters onto the ground and I reach for it, holding it up to my face, and sighing.

Total: $858

Well, shit. Where am I supposed to get 858 dollars from within a week?

Maybe the asylum can loan...

I wouldn't want to put on a bad reputation, especially if I just started the job. Maybe I should go down to the club, they always have some big betters there.

~~~Later That Day~~~

I walk into the steamy atmosphere of the club and make my way to the pool table. I wait impatiently as the people before me finish their game with a grand prize of 1,000 bucks.

Is this really your game? My subconcious asks me. I've only gambled once in my life, at those gamble centers in Vegas, and I gained $100 that night.

Maybe I should just ask the asylum... after one game.

"Hey, you playin'?" A guy with a gray ponytail at the base of his neck asks me. He has a thick souther accent.

"Yea," I respond, taking a seat. See, one game won't hurt.

"I'm puttin' in 100," A girl, wearing a red v-neck shirt with so much glitter on it I am almost blinded by the shine.

Looking at the amount, something in my gut feels wrong. This is wrong. I need to stop.

"I-I'm not playin," I say out loud and shuffle my way out of the club. You did the right thing, my subconcious beam.

Yea, okay.

~~~Next Day~~~

I push my hair back into a neat bun with a subtle braided detail. I guess I am going to get my uniform there, so I just decide on a pair of skinny jeans and a long sleeved shirt, with a double button coat. It's supposed to rain today.

I grab my keys and purse, stuffing my flipphone inside of it, and head on down to the asylum.

Deciding the atmosphere is a little too dark, I turn on the radio in the car, and the news plays. Can anything go in my favor?

I turn off the radio and just hum softly to myself. It's not an actual song, it's just random notes.

Rubbing a hand down my face, I park the car and check the mirror, out of habit. The mundane building outside my car sits there, awaiting for me.

I step out of my car, and hit the grey gravel. Then I pull out my umbrella, open it, and then lift it over me. I clsoe the door, and then trudge down to crazy house.