Could things get much worse? I thought glumly to myself as Nick, Brian and I heaed back home. Our second interview had been a flop as well. It turned out that the business was none other than a "Chuck E. Cheese" type of environment. We knew that our audience wouldn't appreciate our love songs or our dance tracks. I layed my head against the backseat window of Brian's Jeep. I pictured myself in my own music video, dancing with tons of gorgeous men fawning over me as I performed back flips amd other magnificent moves. Brian and I were dancing together, when all of a sudden Chris's chubby face appeared and he shooed us out of the way as 3 Make Harmoney took over.

"Man...I can't even FANTASIZE anymore!" I grumbled to myself.

Nick turned around from the front seat to look at me "Oh...you're fantasizing about me again huh?"

I rolled my eyes and lightly banged my head against the window again.

I had absolutly no desire to get out of the vehicle after we pulled into our apartment complex.

Nick and Brian piled out, but I remained seated in my incubater of depression. I was doing a lot of feeling sorry for myself lately, and I knew it.

Nick poked his head back into the vehicle "c'mon Ange," he said in a sing-song voice.

I just rolled my eyes. Before I had a chance to lock the door, Nick had opened it and dragged me out of the Jeep (quite literally).

I made a weak attempt to stop him, but all efforts were useless. I finally just gave in and grabbed him around the shoulders from behind, letting him pull me, dragging my feet along the muddy lawn.

We heard Brian from the concrete steps of the apartment.

Instantaneously Nick and I raced up the three flights to the third floor.

At first I thought that Brian was hurt because he was leaning against the wall of the hallway with his hand over his eyes, like he was shading his eyes from something. It wasn't until I noticed the fleurescent notice on the door that I realized Brian wasn't hurt at all.

Upon closer inspection I noticed that we had one more week to pay the rent before we had to pack our bags. Nick and I were paid biweekly, and since neither of us had been working even a week, we wouldn't be getting paid any time soon. Brian's first check had gone towards groceries and toward a few house items.

Nick sighed deeply. "Well...there's always Bull's Tavern..." he joked lightly.

Sometimes Nick didn't have the best timing with his jokes. This was one of those times.

I whipped our door open, kicked Brian's basketball out of my path. Instinctively, I performed a small leap to avoid Nick's diving gear, which had found a new home in the center of our living room.

"Ok, Ange...you're a major help! Go into your room and cry into your pillow like you always do...real productive!" Nick hollared from the doorway.

From the kitchen I heard Brian say: "hey, this is Brian Littrell...we have changed our minds about working for you....yeah you could say that. Wednesday night? We'll be there at 8:00 on the dot." He hung up the phone.

Nick was right about the crying thing. It was almost habitual. I landed on my bed, face down and muffled my sobs into my pillow. I let the feelings of helplessness and frusteration drain out of my body in the form of tears and sobs. A sense of deja vous flooded over me, and I realized that I needed to leave the apartment. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door.

"Ange, where ya goin'?" I heard Brian call out after me.

I had no idea where I was going to go, all I knew was that I needed to get as far away as reality as possible. I passed numerous houses and apartment complexes. I ended up in the neighborhood park, and I took a seat on a bench overlooking the swingsets. I watched the chidren as they played with eachother...completly naive of what the world was really like. And then I realized that I was also naive. No...gullible. Gullible to think that I actually had a chance of breaking into the music industry. I was beginning to realize that I had made a great mistake by quiting school. I noticed someone sit next to me. I looked at her with curiosity. She looked a little like me. She had hair that was a similar shade of brown, her eyes were slightly wideset. Her nose was a little larger than mine, but after that there seemed to be a resemblance.

She looked over at me with sincerity. "You look like you need a Starburst." She said lightly.

"Hmmmm....you have any orange?" I asked lightly.

"Uh huh...she dug into her pocket and produced the wax covered candy.

I bit into the familiar sweetness of my favorite candy. I felt awkward eating this stranger's food, so I began to smooth out the wax paper from the candy onto my leg. They always said that you can't fold anything in half ten times. Maybe that didn't include wax paper...

"Is there a reason why you find that cansy wrapper so fascinating?" she asked.

I laughed dryly as I continued to stare at the wrapper. "I'm sorry....I'm just a little out of it. I'm Angela." I offered the girl my hand.

"Christina," she replied promptly. "Hey...do you want to go some place where it is a little warmer? I know of this diner down the street that has KILLER hot chocolate."

I looked over at this stranger. Why not? I figured. It might be nice to hang around someone of the sex for once.