The Potato Nation

19: Lost

WHAT IS THIS? AN UPDATE AFTER ONLY THIRTEEN DAYS? YASS. I USUALLY UPDATE AFTER LIKE A MONTH, LOL. BUT WAIT FOR IT. DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG THIS CHAPTER IS? 6.1K WORDS. YEP, I WROTE THAT MUCH IN ONLY 13 DAYS. ALSO I AM SIMULATANEOUSLY STUDYING FOR STUPID MOCKS. SO APPRECIATE ME. AND VOTE/COMMENT/READ WHATEVER YOU DO.

Sorry, you might want to kill me after this chapter. Also sorry that Sara's part is not up-to-standard. The ending is kinda abrupt but I am going to change that in the rewriting/editing period. If it ever comes. It's a little difficult for me to write Sara's part because i can't really relate that much to her. I mean I can relate to the littie things but whatever. I don't make sense.

[dedicated to shestaysunknown for her tremendous support. thank you, love]

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19: Lost

Farrah isn't really sure if she should go to this year's drama club tryouts. They are offering positions to those who really want to pursue a career in screen plays and theatres and she doesn't think she is good enough for that. And anyways, she isn't really sure if they'd want a girl in a headscarf to come on television, acting her heart out.

"You should go," Farhanna exclaims when they are walking just past the door of the audition room, "If they reject you, it is their loss. And if they don't like you because of your headscarf, then they are the biggest idiots on Earth."

"That's not it," Farrah says, rubbing her chin, "their storylines are different - I won't do romantic stuff or touching, you know that, Farhanna. It's hopeless."

Farhanna raises an eyebrow, "I bet they'll swoon over your acting."

Farrah rolls her eyes, "They'll probably tell me to be the tree. Com'on, I am not good enough for that sort of thing. And anyway, I have too many limitations. They won't take me in."

"You are ridiculously good, Farrah," Farhanna says, "You need to believe in yourself. Just go out there for once."

"It won't do me any good," Farrah shoots back, "They'll reject me, anyway."

"At least give it a try," Farhanna pleads, "It will be okay. It will be amazing. And I'll be there to give you moral support."

"I haven't even practiced," Farrah swallows nervously as she looks up at the sign that reads DRAMA CLUB TRYOUTS. The words themselves scare her - exactly like crowds do and she has a feeling that trapped inside that room, she will be a lost soul among all those found, assured ones. She feels like her heart will clench and she'll be unable to breathe as soon as she enters the room. And maybe that's overreacting or pessimism but Farrah hardly cares; she can't fight with her own feelings, she is too weak for that now.

"Are you seriously worrying about practice?" Farhanna asks as she too, looks up at the sign - three simple words engraved on a silver plate, stuck on a door. Three words that any passerby will probably ignore unless they're actually interested in drama; three words that hold too much meaning for Farrah, "You practically know the breakfast club by heart. That's how many times you've watched it."

Farrah looks up at the looming door once again. Is she ready for this sort of thing? She hardly believes in her acting capabilities; will she be able to exude the confidence needed on the stage? Will she be able to bear it when they reject her because of her headscarf?

So many possibilities, so many problems, her mind is clouded with indecision.

"Move away," Someone says from behind her, "If you want to go, just fricking go in there. At least don't block the way."