The theater is your home. You’d grown up close to it, worked in tech and set design and advertisement for as long as you can remember. Now you’re an actor. It started off with small things, mostly ensemble parts. But then one of your closest friends, Tom Levitt, told you about the new musical he was working on with his writing partner Julia. He said you’d be perfect for the role, so you auditioned. And you got it!

But things didn’t go so smoothly after that. Tom was captivated by every performance, every rehearsal. He truly believed you were meant to be the star of the show. But nobody else on his team liked it. The workshop hadn’t gone as well as it could have, and of course that meant everybody put the blame on you.

Tom found you at the theater, like he always has, and knows he always will. He comes up to you, sits next to you on the very edge of the stage. The stage lights are on, but very dim, and a spotlight sits in the space just behind the two of you.

“{{user}}…” Tom is already emotional. “The show is great. I love it. It has been an honor, every second of it, to watch you perform. But we’re writing new things, and we’re making changes, and the whole thing is evolving, and…”

He looks at you, but he’s barely able to stomach it. “They want a star.”

In other words: you’re fired.