(Remake) This Wasn't My Big Break

“Aaaand we’re rolling.” The camera’s red light blinked off momentarily, then back on to green. “Cast interview number one: Kaoru Akimoto.”

“Hello~” Like flipping a light-switch, Kaoru went from looking annoyed and peeved to a bright smile accompanied with a small wave.

“So Kaoru, please tell us, as an up-and-coming actress, why did you take this job? Was it the names behind it? The story? Maybe just the money? Hahaha—” The interviewer asked.

“Well, let me see… My agent told me this would be my big break if I landed the part. Iijima, my agent that is, said, “This director can make things happen, can turn even the worst story into a cinematic mosaic.” So naturally I turned it down. Ha—!” Kaoru let out a small laugh. Whether for show, regret for taking this part, or actually laughter, I don’t know. She quickly collected herself and continued. “No but, working with Director Sayuri can be a bit… challenging? At times.”

“I-I’m sorry miss Kaoru, then why did you take the part?”

“I wonder…” She said.

The interviewer checked to see if anyone was behind him because she said it as if she was talking to someone far off, somewhere else.

[roll the intro] https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=VXYdK1VpVgg

***

My head dropped from my hand and onto the table. I quickly scrambled to grab my glasses which fell onto the floor.

I really shouldn’t be so careless… my mom just got these for me.

When I set them back on my face it still took me a moment to realize where I was, as the blinds were shut making the room almost pitch black. The only exception being the light from my laptop.

I had spent the night in the writing club’s “office”.

Well I wouldn’t say it’s an office… It's more of an oversized closet stacked with books and a printer. If it were up to me, we’d have one of the largest rooms. Maybe the English club’s room, theirs is the size of two rooms… Or they could at least share.

Now that I think about it, we don’t really do much writing either. The last generation of club members that actually did any writing was what… five years ago now?

The last few years of members were only into manga and light novels… turning this club more into a storage room for a massive collection than a place for writers. That being the reason I joined… But I digress.

I notice that I’m saying “we”, which isn’t right… It’s just “me”.

I had trouble recruiting new members when last year's seniors graduated, leaving me to fill every position. I even made a small name plate for myself. It reads, “Kiyotaka Makoto — President of the Writing Club”.

Well, technically, “we” does work. It’s just that the one other club member is extremely allergic to showing up.

Looking around the clubroom makes me feel like its glory days were long before I came around. Still, it’s a good space to get away from all the commotion of school.

Anyways, none of that is important either, what is though is my email.

I set my hand on the mouse and began spamming the “refresh” button.

Two months ago there was a light novel writing contest announced and I submitted what I believe is my best work.

I know I said this isn’t how becoming a big writer works, but at the end of the day, someone has to win the contest, right?

Still, it’s highly unlikely it’d be me. While I have faith in my skills, I did see there were over two thousand entries. Everyone in this contest probably thinks that they’re different from the submission before and after them. That they found the special idea to make them stand out from the rest.

While it’s nice to think that I’ve realized this and I’m enlightened in some way, my inner-consciousness still thinks this. How can you blame me though? You see the world from your view.

After refreshing my email for the nineteenth time, my laptop made a dinging-noise—a new email came in.

Yes finally! Is this it? Did I make it to the next round of judging!? Surely, right?

Okay, okay… calm down. Let’s check the email.

Subject: New 30% Off Deals From Akiba-Soul
Re: These deals don’t last long! Make su—

My computer is messing with me!

I released a deep sigh and leaned back in the wooden clubroom-chair.

After a moment I stood up and walked over to the blinds. Doing this may sound trivial, but is quite the opposite. Near the back of the clubroom where the windows are, books are stacked—getting higher as you get closer to the window.

Some of them even reach the ceiling, a feat I really didn’t understand. Those ceiling high stacks were there when I joined, and my seniors, and the seniors before them. It’s like lost knowledge of who or how they were stacked so high. But everyone since has respected it.

After I invited the light into the clubroom I cautiously returned to my laptop.

Looking outside of the window, it revealed a new day was beginning… I must’ve slept here overnight. I’m assuming my mom realizes I’ve slept here too as I see she hasn’t called me…

Seriously mom? Your own son?

Seemingly endless waves of students, all dressed in our school’s uniform, walked up the small hill-road leading to our highschool. It was a new semester and the start to my second year.

Springtime brought with it the blooming of cherry blossom trees—a timeless cliche. It was the perfect time for countless meaningless conversations to happen and students to share their hopes for the new semester.

My laptop produced another ding. A new email…

Subject: RLNP Light Novel Contest Judging

“It’s actually here…”

I could feel my heart quicken in my chest. Every worry I’ve had and currently have seemed to drop from my mind—I was completely consumed by this email.

A part of me doesn’t want to read it. Because until I do I’m both accepted and denied. No one’s making me look at it, I could just assume I got in but decide that I personally don’t want to continue.

No… That’s not the truth.

I rub my hands together to try and get rid of sweat.