The Last Five Years ✔~ trixya

Climbing Uphill

3 years and 6 months ago

Another bad audition.
Trixie didn't even know why she was still trying, but this one truly was one for the history books.
The pianist had given her the wrong note, so she'd begun singing in the completely wrong key. Of course, it didn't really matter anyways, at this point she'd probably travel to the moon before she'd pass a fucking audition.

Every day was the same. She'd get up every morning at 6, go stand in line with two hundred girls who were all younger and thinner than her and listen to them brag about how they'd already been to the gym. Then she'd wait there for five hours, see girls come and go, all wearing the same dress in different colors, until finally her number gets called. Then she'd walk into a room with a table of men. Always men, usually gay. Who'd been sitting all day, like she had, listening to two hundred girls belting as high as they could.

The next morning she went for another audition, and yet again the same routine rang true. As she stepped inside the room she forced herself to think positive thoughts.

"I'm a good person, I'm an attractive person, I'm a talented person.. Dear God, please grant me grace." She whispered to herself as she pulled out her sheet music and handed it over to the pianist. 

The piano started playing and whilst she started singing on autopilot, her mind was somewhere else entirely as overanalyzed every little thing she was doing and the reaction of the judges from across the room.

"Maybe I should have told them I was sick last week? Shit, they're gonna think this is the way I usually sing...
Why the fuck is this pianist playing so loud? Should I sing louder?
I'll sing louder.
Maybe I should just stop and start over? I think I'm gonna stop and start over, or maybe it's too late for that?
Why is the director staring at his crotch? Oh no, why is that man staring at my résumé? Don't stare at that, oh my god, I made up half of my résumé. Stop looking at that! No, don't look at my shoes. I hate these stupid shoes! Why did I pick these shoes? Why did I even pick this song? Why the fuck did I pick this career?" 

The pianist slowed down for no reason, making her almost run out of breath. She sent him a look and nodded strongly to try to get him to continue, as her inner panic intensified. 

"Why does this pianist hate me?
Well, at least if I don't get this callback I can go buy a couch with mom.
Not that I want to spend a day with mom, but Katya needs space to write since I'm obviously such a horrible, annoying, distraction to her... What's she gonna be like if we get married?
Honestly why am I even working so hard? These are the people who decided to cast Russel Crowe in a musical for christ sake... Jesus, I suck..."

"Thanks, we've heard enough." The director spoke, cutting her off halfway through the song. Trixie knew what that meant; thanks for coming, we don't want you.

"Thank you, thank you very much." She said politely as she retrieved her things and left the room, the same way she'd left hundreds of auditions before.

Trixie hated who she was becoming, and she would not play into it.
She refused to become the girl who was stuck at home all day in the suburbs with a garden and a dog.
She also refused to be stuck as a bar waitress for the rest of her life.
But most of all, she would not be the girl who would forever be asked what it was like to be trotting along at the genius's heels. She refused to become that. She refused to need a girlfriend to get by.