Chapter 4: Fighter

Aurora's POV

I sift through the bills composed of 10s and 20s out from the cash register. Slow day but I manage to suppress the boring times. I hate this current habitation I hold. I knew was completely inept to the tasks that lay before me but seriously... The last 2 weeks were hell. Not one bastard saw me at any of the shows and I was gypped big time.

It's tough going through this alone than anything else. Most of the time, I find it fine, and I'm being totally honest when I say that. I guess I was OK with that until now. I especially hate people who have it so easy sometimes but feel the need to bitch about everything. If I was them (and by some miracle I'm not), I really don't know. I know only one thing about money: I need it to survive. Life is too hard to be poor but I guess its probably too late for me. Only maybe.

I thought I was gonna be big. I guess I really dream too much for my own good and I should really just except that nothing will change. So OK, here I am. Alone once again, working at Mann 8 Theaters. They told me my shift was supposed to be closing and I really couldn't argue with their asses. When your desperate for money, trust me when I say you're willing to do anything to get it. I seem to have also developed just recently an identity crisis. Well, let's scratch that for a second and just start from the main point. I really hate my name immensely. Like I think its the worst name for any girl. I always wanted a name that meant something. Sometimes I'd run across certain names like Selena and Katherine. Now those were names I could've have dealt with but no... oh no, my parents had to pull out the big time hippie guns on this one. Not to mention, smoking some major mushrooms in the process.

My real name has never really perked with me. It was hard going through life with a false identity. I always said that the worst thing in life is to hate who you are. Does that mean I've hated the fact that I was still alive? I ask myself that everyday. Everyday is a silent cry of nothing.

Brace yourself, I was born Aurora Julie Serano. I go by Julie though. Well, my name tag goes by that. I've really always hated Aurora. I was NOT blond and blue-eyed like a Disney beauty. Just a brown-eyed weirdo with something to say. I was so annoyed with everyone in school when they kept calling me Brier Rose like the Disney chic, among other names. Let's just sign off on that much ridicule for now. I really so did not want that in my life. I couldn't focus on much because of what others would say.

I would probably say honestly that I was an abase person to people in my life. I really was never as insurrective with my decisions as I am now. I was grounded with a lot of things. The more I talked to people, the more I got to know myself and my reactions. That scares me. As soon as I reached that certain age where real life smacks you ardently when you least expect it, and believe me it does. I wasn't just duly set on becoming this nice person, it was just part of my thinking. Even to the people who were horrible to me.

I got good grades up until about 5th grade. Yeah, that was a weird time for me. Actually, for 4th grade, that was when the names had started. I received the most reverent treatment in the 7th grade. Middle school was torture. I really didn't have that much of a brain in dealing with bashers. I suppose I was too fatuous to realize that what they said about me were just words. I remember when I was I believe 13 or so, this girl, her name was Jennifer Soloman, crazy bitch, anyway were supposed to do this project in English where we were supposed to review everyone's poetry. This girl actually hurt my eyes with her words. She has no sense of grammar or common knowledge that goes with writing. The teacher just had to place her and I as partners. If its enough, she made my life a living a hell, we had to actually get along for a damn project. Hers was the worst I had ever seen when I read it and my assignment was to write a review on it, and I did just that. She was obviously gonna put sh'it on mine I could just feel it, so either way I told the truth. See this, everyone was afraid to tell her she was a dumbass. Even she knew she was.

What I did was I wrote the comments very nicely but I told her that she needed work on it. We had to read our comments aloud and I just felt like that was the best moment of my life when I finally stood up to her ass. Everyone was shocked at what I did. Even the teacher who repeated told Jen how good of a student she was, was completely jaw-dropped. I loved it to be honest. Needless to say I wasn't teased very much from that day on. People knew Jen was a slut, but they never suspected she eats paste. I had always known she paid people to do the homework and always cheated on the tests. I always figured the guys she was with would just either wanna kill themselves or her first, the second was my prediction.

Back to the movies, that's where I'm at for the time being. The shitheads hired me pretty quick since they were uber understaffed. Which is shocking around the holiday season. I also figure this is kind of cool for me. I love movies and stuff so I could learn more about them and how they work. So far I've only had training on Box Office, Ticket Tearing, and the Concession Stand. I was an usher so that also means until the pricks wake up and promote me I'm stuck to cleaning theaters which is what they put me on the last 2 weeks.

Oh yeah, one more bit of information you need to know, the manager is a total perv. Sometimes when he'll call me in his office to talk about whatever thing he claims I caused, I leave and I always hear a whistle as I do. I really wanna quit this place but I'm always going to be at the bottom in whatever I do with life. I suppose I should get used to it.

I place my left elbow onto the counter and let out a monster breath. I'm always bored. The job gets extremely annoying around night time. Either a lot of people mass or maybe just one or two. I stare at my nails --

"Julie, we need you! Box office now? What's your 20?" the stupid very loud radio talky buzzed shaking my body.

I get scared, than I stick my tongue out and pick up the walkie, placing it to my mouth, "Concession stand. I have no one to cover me though."

"I have someone. Don't worry about it. Vin's gonna cover before his break. Box office, now!" I notice, only Paul takes that tone with me. Damn his loud ass voice.

"Alright..." I remove my apron and run to Box Office and I see Vin counting the bunches of bills from the register.

I pause and the door makes a weird creek. He stops a little and lifts his head to stare at me with a flat smile. "I need you to take box the rest of shift, OK? I'll cover Concession for now?"

Vin was the manager's assistant, which meant only one thing, asshole-kiss-up-uber-annoying-penis-wad. Let's just say he need a good bitch slap at any chance. I always hate the way he stares at me. Almost like he's gonna rape me or something. I shudder and still hold composer as the butthead squats by me. Ugh, I got Vin germs now.

I close the door and sit down on the new rolly chair we just got. With the budget we have, I'm actually shocked to the bone the company affords actual comfort.

I log my name on the register and spin around in the chair. At about the fourth revelation I almost jumped from my seat, than I realize my mic for the costumers was still on. I fix myself up and push myself closer toward the desk. I glance up and hardly see anything. It's pitch dark. Than, smoke had disappeared as I saw a 20ish young man pretty much covered up in denim staring at the movies and showtimes above my head.

I clear my throat, where did that come from? I shake my head and speak into the mouth piece, "May I help you, sir?"

From my eyes, it looks as if I startled him. These mics are so high anyway. I turn down the volume and stare at him again. At this angle I'd guess, no degree, pretty boy, cop or the complete opposite, a crackhead. Like my father. He seems too skinny. Although, I find his face something scarcely different. His eyes seems like out of some corny packed romance novel. A really deep blue almost a black if they seemed angered. I really didn't like his nose that much. My eyes suddenly found only one thing even God can't pry me away from. For a guy, and this counts for a seemingly heterosexual appearance, his lips were the end of me. They were the kind that you could kiss forever and I do mean that. Almost like they were meant for tugging on just for the ride of something exhilarating.

My staring had pestered him and I knew that when he spoke suddenly, "Hey, are you there?"

I heard a slight chuckle in his tone and that made more tones of red surface. I tuck some hair behind my ear while cursing myself for letting some stranger with to die for lips even deter a second of my thoughts. "Excuse me, yes, can I help you?"

He smiled. His teeth were so damn white. "Yeah, can I get one for Closer at 9:35?"

"Sure." I greeted, placing the order up.

He gave me cash which is good because I really hate when people give me credit and I have to record all the damn transactions. For some reason I actually wanted to get rid of this guy as quick as possible so I could be alone with my thought for once today. I grab the ticket kind of ravenously and slipped it through the small window. His fingers grazed mine smally and I let go as I say, "Enjoy your show."

Out of the corner of my eye he smiles once again and waves a goodbye and now its all pie for me. I breath out and begin my twirling again, thinking about what the hell life is gonna lead me from the job I have now. I make about roughly $7.30 an hour which I believe a joke of all jokes. I'm never gonna be anywhere unless I'm onstage. Chicago was so much fun even though I wasted a good three months with shows that didn't lead me anywhere. It's like I'm venom for all the scouts. I know I'm not an ugly person so that can't be it --

"...hey I have a question if you don't mind?" Damn you voice. You pulled me once again.

I open my eyes and I thought I was smooth sailing with this guy. Guess not apparently.

I get closer to the mic and stare at him, mainly his lips as he listens to me warble, "What can I help you with?"

He scratches the back of his neck and asks almost like a child, "Um, do you know how long the movie is and if its good?"

Whoa, two questions. The first one I got but actually giving my personal thoughts on something I haven't seen. I think for a second. In five seconds I've got it.

"Uh well, its just about 1 hour and 38 minutes in running time and I'm really sorry I haven't seen the movie yet, but I had heard the reviews for it were top notch." Did I really just say "top notch"? Oh Lord save me from myself.

"Oh, well, thanks. I heard it was also. I really like Natalie Portman, she's really good in anything she does."

Now is not the time to be social, the professional annoys me. Eh, screw the rules voice. I'm bored. "Yeah, she's really good for someone her ag--"

"Julie, go the GM's office now. Katie's gonna cover for you. Break, 30 minutes." That damn buzzer just loves to the ruin every moment in my life.

I blush slightly and take the walkie, "OK, I'll be right there." I turn to the guy and he was gone.

I shrug on that note. People come and go no biggie. "Yeah, not like I'll see that guy again. Ugh, I really need to find a better life."

And the more annoyances ensue the worst of my pathetic triumphs for attempted normalcy. Pathetic indeed. Its all the labyrinth I figure. One of the twisty ones with bitches in the way. I guess my skin does get thicker when I try.

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