"This could be your year!"

"This could be my year..." Those words traveled endlessly across the land of my mind.

My school's director, Miss Gina, told me "this could be your year. I sincerely believe that you have the talent to become great this year."

It was very exciting to finally qualify for my school's theater. Most of the theater cast was made up of those I call "the favorites." The Favorites are a group of semi-talented to honestly talented kids whose parents went to large extents to "be helpful with the theater." In short, working for the director and bribing them with free labor granted their kids are given primary parts in the school shows. After having battled with these restrictions, it was an extraordinary feeling to know that I had managed to gain a high status in the theater without having to rely on my parents to become slaves to Miss Gina. In a way, I had achieved the theater's American Dream, if you will.

Once I had landed my first named roll in my years of struggling to even get a part whatsoever, I had expected I would get some other role within the theater's next two productions. I mean, I wasn't expecting a part, but I did feel like Miss Gina actually believed I stood a chance. After all, this was supposed to be my year.

"This could be your year*."
*Note: By year, I mean fall show. I mean the next three months, not twelve months.

That's what she meant to say.

I discussed this with her after the parts and leadership for the last show of the year were posted. This was the show we were going to compete with. As I am graduating soon and how we rarely ever compete, I was more than disappointed to know that I had earned nothing in the theater.

It felt as if I had been betrayed. Not merely by Miss Gina, or the favorites, or anyone in particular. It felt as if theater betrayed me. It felt as if the thing I had strived so hard to get finally came into my clutches, but quickly poisoned me and ran away.

I have no spot in the theater now. The parts have been filled; the roles have been cast.

Now what shall I do with the remaining months of nothingness I have set in store?

We'll see, I guess. I just hope there's some cuddling.