The cheering from my dressing room was making me want to drill a hole in my head and empty out my brains onto the floor.
Everything is going wrong and no one in the audience knows.
Eddie has a girlfriend. I left Derry four fucking years ago and I'm still not over him. Stan is fucking dead. He's in a place I want to be in. A constant state of nothing. Fucking dead.
"Richie you're on." My manager calls for me.
"Get your fucking hands up for Richie Tozier!" The comedian before me had to introduce me. He doesn't give a shit about me or my fucking comedy.
I want to scream and kick the walls like a toddler, but the walls don't fucking care.
"Put a smile on your face Tozier. You've been a dick all day. Don't make this audience regret buying tickets. This is a sold out stadium and they're all here to see you Richie. You're the fucking headline. Get your head out of your ass and tell some mediocre jokes." My bitchy manager practically shoved me on stage.
I can't remember the script I memerized for this show, but the words come out of my mouth. I can't even hear myself.
When I hear the audience laugh I know I must have told a joke.
All eyes on me. I fucking hate it. I thought I wanted this. I just wanted the attention. I believed Eddie when he said I was funny. But, I guess he was full of shit too.
"Pray for me, cause' lord knows I need it." The last words I say before I walk off the stage.
I ignore the hands grabbing at me, all the staff and backstage crew. I need to get in a room alone before I take the microphone cord and choke myself with it.
I feel everything collapse around me as I sit on the floor of my dressing room. Alone
You think the world is ending, it already did.
AN
Two more chapters!
-GROOVYLADY
