NOVEL NEXT Chapter 3: I am not a junkie
Upon leaving the studio, Liam let out a shrill of emotions.
"hahahaha, finally. I passed the first audition!" He shouted, as he couldn't control his emotions.
He had been in Los Angeles for around one year now, he had been working daily in that coffee shop that became his second home, life in Los Angeles wasn't for the weak.
He persevered until the end, just as he was about to finally quit and go back to his little town with his head lowered, he awakened a magical system.
"I will really become a super star," He muttered.
..
"What is wrong with this guy? Is he okay?" A girl said to her boyfriend as they walked past.
"Shh, I know these types of people. They call them crackheads or junkies. I heard that you can experience any kind of life you want if you take one single pill, I think he did that." He said, with a low tone as if Liam didn't already hear it.
"Oh, I see." His girlfriend nodded in understanding, as she looked at Liam with disgust.
".."
"Hey! I am not a junkie, what the hell man. Don't accuse me, or I will sue you for defamation." Liam said as he glared at the man.
"See? He thinks he is something big that he can even sue me for defamation, hahaha." The guy laughed, as he walked off with his girl.
"Damn, this blue-haired little rodent, who does he think he is?" Liam spat.
"Just because I let out my emotions, doesn't mean I'm a junkie." He kissed his teeth, as he started heading home.
They told him that they would contact him when the second round began and he couldn't wait.
...
Liam stepped into his modest apartment, the air was still and quiet, the usual.
He placed his keys on the table and walked to his closet, humming a tune softly.
"Baby, baby, baby... ohhh. I can't wait for my role."
For the first time in months, he felt happy, his smile didn't feel forced.
Sliding open the closet, he grabbed a pair of comfortable grey sweatpants and a clean white t-shirt.
As he headed to the bathroom, the tiles were cold under his bare feet, he chuckled softly.
"A system," he muttered, shaking his head. "I've actually got a system."
The bathroom slowly got filled with steam as hot water ran down from the showerhead.
Liam stood under the stream, letting the warmth wash away the exhaustion that had been clinging to him for the past year.
He closed his eyes, his mind drifting back to the last year.
"The daily grind at the coffee shop."
"The countless rejections."
The doubt crept in like an unwelcome guest, whispering that his dad might have been right.
He hadn't had the skills for this—below even an amateur, as his auditions painfully revealed. But he had held on, clutching his dreams tightly even as they slowly destroyed him. And now, here he was.
"God rewarded me for my patience," he said softly, a small laugh escaping.
The idea of the system still felt unreal to him.
To gain skills from the roles he played? It was an actor's dream—a cheat code to success.
He imagined himself mastering roles effortlessly, becoming a master driver from one role, or a medical doctor or maybe...
"I can become the king of Hollywood," he whispered, his voice tinged with excitement.
"A superhero!" He shouted in excitement, "I wouldn't be surprised if that's possible, after all, it's a system."
The water-cooled, snapping him out of his reverie.
"I forgot that my hot water is limited, I'm not rich enough to do that... at least not yet." He smirked.
He turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a towel to dry himself.
The smile never left his face as he changed into his fresh clothes.
As he walked into the living room, his phone buzzed on the couch.
The ringtone echoed through the room, a jaunty tune he had set months ago but had only heard when his dad called.
He picked it up and glanced at the screen. The number wasn't saved and looked unfamiliar.
"Hello?" he answered, his tone curious but light.
"Liam West?" a man's voice responded, professional and calm.
"Yes, that's me."
"This is Paul from Stardream Casting Agency. I'm calling to let you know that the next round of auditions is scheduled for next Friday at 11:00 a.m. sharp. You'll be performing in front of a larger panel this time."
Liam straightened up, excitement ripping through his chest. "Thank you so much for letting me know! I'll be there."
"Good. Make sure to prepare thoroughly. We'll send you the script by email tomorrow morning. Best of luck." The line clicked before Liam could respond further.
He lowered the phone slowly, his pulse racing. "Next Friday," he murmured, his grin widening.
Liam paced around the living room, the thought of performing again, this time in front of judges and people, made him nervous.
He stopped by the window, staring out at the city lights from his spot.
"Dad, I know you doubted me," he said aloud to himself, "but I'll show you. I'll show everyone." His reflection in the glass smiled back at him, a man who, for the first time in a long while, believed in himself.
Plopping onto the couch, Liam picked up his laptop and opened his email, eager to see if the script had arrived early.
It hadn't, but the anticipation only made him more excited.
thirty minutes later...
"Still not here, huh." He muttered.
An hour later...
"Seems like they really aren't sending it now," He thought, as his eyelids slowly became heavy and he drifted to sleep.