Jessica never was one to give up

No! She almost recoiled at the mere thought, scowled and clenched her jaw. She wouldn’t go down like this. Ever since she had had her breakthrough she had sworn to herself that she’d go out of the acting business on her own terms. It would be her decision to leave, not some stupid, fucking producers.

Taking a large gulp of wine, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, quickly unlocking it and picking out Sean’s contact.

“I want that role!” she typed and sent.

It was only after the two small checkmarks turned blue, signaling that Sean had read her message, that she wondered what she was doing. Maybe it was better to preserve her dignity than to chase after this part? Her heartbeat quickened as three small dots appeared, indicating that Sean was typing a response.

“It’s not the right role for you, Jessica. Trust me, it’s better this way!”

Once again, the rejection stung. She had always been ambitious. After all, you didn’t become a Hollywood superstar and founder of a multi-million-dollar company if you didn’t have a powerful drive inside you. But with that drive came ego, so in addition to the knowledge that her professional fate was highly dependent on her getting this role, her ego could barely take being so easily dismissed. She clenched her teeth, more determined than ever.

“You’re wrong!” she replied, “I am the best person for that role!”

Leaning onto the wooden railing she stared at the bright phone screen, her lips pressed tight. It took a couple of seconds, then the three small dots started dancing again.

“Let it go, Jess. There’s nudity involved. I am doing you a favor here.”

“FUUUCK!” Jessica screamed into the evening sky as she read the short reply. Clenching her fist, she slammed it down on the painted wood of the railing before turning around and briskly walking back inside into her bedroom. She sent her phone flying, hurling it into the soft cushions of a beige armchair as she stormed past, seething with anger. “Motherfucker!”

She began pacing aimlessly up and down the bedroom. Anxiety got a hold of her body, she could feel her heart pumping, her throat drying up. Did she really have no chance here? Her one chance, one shot to turn her lately rotten luck around completely in one fell swoop felt like it slipped out of her reach. Her lips began to quiver with the onset of panicked tears as the crushing reality of the inevitably downturn of her career set in. This had been her best shot and it had just kind of… fizzled out.

She came to a sudden halt in front of the big, floor-length mirror, stopping dead in her tracks and just glared at her reflection. It really was a stark contrast from the well-groomed image she had portrayed earlier at the restaurant. Instead of the chic business costume she had grabbed the comfiest clothes she had after the shower, which was a baggy, apricot-colored sweatsuit. The soft fleece wasn’t exactly something she’d wear out in the street, but it was incredibly soft and comforting. She had put her hair up in a messy bun and had removed all the make-up, so her natural features were on full display, eyes gleaming with the onset of **** tears as she stared back at herself. Even she had to admit that she really didn’t look like the stylish femme fatale that Sean apparently wanted for his project.

“Fuck this!” she spat defiantly at her own reflection. She wasn’t going to go down like this, not without trying all the possibilities at her disposal. She needed this part and if Sean didn’t think she was right for it, then he was wrong. She’d prove that motherfucker wrong, like she had proven motherfuckers wrong her entire career.

Jaw clenched, she quickly walked over to the armchair where she had tossed her phone and picked it up, then returned to the mirror. Taking a second, she stared her own reflection in the eyes, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to do.