"Cut!!!" Director Taro's voice boomed across the entire set.
Despite the small size of the studio, the bald, middle-aged director preferred to use a megaphone to instruct his crew and actors, even though his loud shrill voice could be heard all across the studio without it.
The crewmen groaned again, for the umpteenth time. The sound technician dropped the microphone on the floor and stormed off the set. The cameraman threw his arm helplessly in the air, frustration written all over his face.
"How many times are we gonna do this?" he muttered, loud enough for the director to hear.
"Hey... quit your whining, you sad punks..." The director bellowed, "I don't wanna be here any more than you do, but someone keeps ruining the damn scene!"
Jin Kamada swallowed, for the umpteenth time as well. He knew very well who the director was referring to. To avoid the angry stares from the crew, he threw his gaze down, only raising it when the Director marched towards him.
"What the fuck was that?!"
Jin scratched his left ear. "What was... what?"
"What... the fuck... was that?!" The director fumed in a low voice, emphasizing each word as he gestured toward the office desk in the middle of the room.
"Acting?"
"Acting?!" Director Taro scoffed. "You call that acting? My grandfather could act better than that, and he's in a wheelchair!"
Despite the thick skin Jin had acquired as a result constant criticism, the director's words cut through easily, making his heart clench.
"I don't know what the fuck you did, but that... that was definitely not acting. That was horrible. Capital H. It's like you're not even trying to be the damn character!"
Jin had heard this a thousand times before — the same criticism from every director who pitied him enough to hire him. He was either acting too much, or not even trying at all.
"Come on..." he replied, "I've been playing Agent Han for weeks. I know the character in and out."
The director leaned forward, until his face was a feet away from Jin's.
"So, why the fuck are you trembling like a fucking teenager?"
Jin swallowed, again. He never had a problem with this particular role, but acting this scene made his bones rattle.
"I'm just... uh... nervous... That's all."
"Nervous? You're feeling nervous?" The director turned to his crew members. "You hear that guys? Jin-bo over here is feeling nervous, so you guys better prepare to be here all night."
Another wave of disappointed groans erupted from the crew members.
"You hear that Jin?" Director Taro turned back to him, a false grin on his face. "That's the sound of the people you're overworking 'cause of your nerves."
"I'm sorry..."
"Sorry? Sorry ain't going to let us go home." The Director's grin completely disappeared. "Why the fuck did you become an actor, if you can't control your damn nerves?"
Jin sighed. He knew the problem was far more complicated than just his nerves, but for the sake of his career, he had to play dumb.
"Let's do one more scene. I promise I'll get it right."
"You better," the director retorted, lowering his voice. "'cause we're running out of time to complete production, and my patience is waning fast."
The director marched off the set, returning to his seat. He lifted his megaphone, placing it over his mouth.
"Places, punks! Action in thirty! Get that dumbass Sunny back in here!"
Jin took in a deep breath, and exhaled sharply.
"You got this," he whispered, adjusting the sleeves of the white shirt beneath his jacket. "You're Agent Han. You're a playboy spy. And spies aren't afraid of women. You can do this."
"Scene!" the Director Taro's voice invaded his thoughts, "Agent Han reveals his identity to Luna. Take ninety-two! Camera... Action!"
Jin heaved a sigh, turning towards his fellow actress, the famous Miss Bella. She stood on the other end of the office set, dressed in a corporate blazer and a tight pencil skirt, her brown hair tied in a bun behind her back.
Jin inhaled deeply, the scent of cologne and new cables filling his nostrils. As he walked toward her, his heart thumped heavily in his chest. His movements grew rigid, like a robot wading through water.
"Luna, there's... something you need to know about me."
Bella looked up, her eyes gleaming with false desire. "Tell me."
"I... can't," Jin faltered, trying to recall his lines, the image of Bella's bust dancing in his head. "Telling you... will put you in danger."
"I don't care," Bella walked toward him, her hand reaching for his. "I just want to be with you, Han."
Jin felt her fingers brush over his, soft and gentle. He drew in a breath, goosebumps emerging all over his skin.
Come on, Jin. Don't mess this up. You've seen beautiful girls before.
"Luna... I am... I'm a... MMA Agent..."
Fuck.
"Oh for God's sake! Cut!!!!" Taro's voice filled the air once again, quickly followed by loud grumbles from the crew behind the cameras.
Jin sighed, burying his face in his palms. He knew it was over.
"What the fuck was that?" The director yelled, marching towards Jin. "An MMA agent? Agent Han is a wrestler now?"
"My bad. I'm sorry. I'll get it right next time."
"No, you're not. You're done."
The words slammed Jin like a slap across the face.
"I'm terminating your contract," the director continued, "You're off the crew."
A low ringing sound emerged hummed in Jin's ears. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to hang at the back of his throat.
"You're... firing me?" he asked, his voice wavering.
Taro shrugged, raising his palms, "Yeah... That's what 'terminating your contract' means."
"You can't do that."
"Yes I can 'cause I can't put up with your bullshit. Not anymore."
Jin fell into his thoughts, his heart wringing in his chest.
This was the only source of income he had. It was a small production studio, and the pay was barely enough to keep him afloat, but he'd been managing it, hoping for the big payday at the end of production.
Damn that stupid contract, he thought.
The month was almost at its end, and he'd been hoping for the next check to pay up for his expired rent. His landlady had been on his neck for weeks, but he'd used his savings to upgrade his gaming console and buy the new 'Dungeon Sluts' game he always wanted to play.
Getting fired, was the worst thing that could happen to him at the moment .
"I need this role," he pleaded, lowering his voice. "I've got bills to pay."
"Look around, everyone here got bills to pay. But we ain't gonna do that if we keep putting up with your fuck-ups." The Director leaned forward, folding his arms. "Look... You're pretty young. I'm sure there's another studio looking for young talent. But this ain't gonna work. Not anymore."
A silent frown appeared on Jin's face. He kept mute, pondering his next move, but all he could think about was how he was going to pay his rent.
He thought about begging the director to keep him, but it would be pointless. Taro was not a man who changed his mind easily.
"Fine," he frowned, regaining his composure. "I always hated this role anyway."
Without another word, he stormed out of the set, slamming the door so hard, the metal rattled behind him.
He marched to his backstage room, tossing his personal items into his bag without mercy, then zoomed out of the building.
Minutes later, he emerged into the evening sunlight. A gentle gale blew at him, ruffling his straight black hair.
"You'll be fine, Jin," he muttered, forcing a smile on his lips. "Can't get any worse than this."
The words had barely left his mouth when a sharp buzz hit his pocket. He pulled out his cell, placing his thumb on the fingerprint to unlock it.
A black message box popped up on the screen.
|RENT PAST DUE. EVICTION NOTICE.|