It's a selfie of her. And Mark. Kissing.
Are you kidding me?
This isn't an inadvertent post. Her social media is carefully crafted and cultivated to show what a perfect and glamorous life she leads as a lounge singer. This isn't even on her private Insta account. Oh no, this is on @meilinmusician.
Shit.
I'm not even that upset. More annoyed than anything else. I guess she doesn't need me to call it off.
And Mark? He's a total douche. What does she see in him?
Instantly, my mind flashes back to that night. Mei in the Uber. It wasn't a shared ride. It was Mark. She was going home with him instead of me.
Ten bucks says they were together before that show too.
Assholes.
You know, sometimes I wish I could date the old-fashioned way, without social media, like my parents did. I bet it was so much easier. You wouldn't have to worry about being catfished or ghosted. You wouldn't find out you're being cheated on when the rest of the world sees it.
Seriously, she's got over five thousand followers on this account.
I should be a bigger person and let it go. Except right now, I'm not. I “like” her post.
And now I wait for her to call to explain.
And I wait.
And wait some more.
This is bullshit.
I sit up and flick the light on. I need to focus on something else. I open my notebook to the empty page that's been taunting me, almost as much as Mei's Instagram post.
This ballad comes as the main character realizes that the charade she's been living is closer to reality than she realized. The protagonist, a trivial woman who goes by both the names Dawn and Honor, realizes that she's much more like her alter ego and that only in being true to this self can she be happy.
What's been the most difficult about penning this number is that this is a comedy, so this song still has to have some humor in it.
Humor, when you're down in the dumps, is a commodity in short supply.
There's a soft knock on my door, saving me from scribbling out more things that don't work.
I really should use a pencil.
"Did I wake you?" Leslie's face is freshly scrubbed and her curly hair is piled high on top of her head. She's in short shorts and a cropped T-shirt that shows a swath of bronze skin. I look at her shirt.Do your best. Be the best. Whatever it takes.
"Nice shirt."
She glances down. "Yeah, well, my dad thought if we were wearing it, we'd have to live it. Guess I showed him." She looks up and down the hall. "Can I come in?"
I push open the door farther, but still not moving out of the way. She slides in under my arm and then sits down cross-legged on the foot of my bed.
"Make yourself at home."
And then I wait. She doesn't say anything. I sit down in my lounge chair. Because I'm the musical director, I get my own room, which is the same size as the rooms that hold multiple cast members. As a result, I have room to trick it out with comfy furniture. Also, Grayson was getting rid of this chair and it was still perfectly good, so I totally snatched it up.
I fold my hands behind my head. Two can play this game.
"You never smile when I'm around."
