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Dejected. Humiliated. Useless.
Jewel felt all this and more as she walked solemnly down the front steps of the theatre. All the effort she’d put in, all the years of her life dedicated to her craft, to the company, and what for? To be replaced by some suckup who could hardly do his job?
“No, Jewel, you can’t be thinking like that.” She told herself, trying to convince herself that it was just jealousy talking. “Starline is a fine director. So what if he’s pompous, arrogant, self-centered, careless, unqualified-? No, stop.”
That wasn’t getting her anywhere. It wasn’t helping her cope with the loss of her job, nor helping her find a new one.
She took a deep breath as she carried her box of belongings into her small apartment. To even call it that was beyond generous. From the bedroom/kitchen/dining room, to the number of scripts that lined her bookshelf, which itself took up almost ten percent of the room, to the TV that was perched atop the aforementioned bookshelf. The TV that was much too high to reach, so she had to fly up to even turn it on, or change the volume, since she’d lost the remote.
She tossed her box onto her stiff mattress, only for it to topple over and have the contents spilt across the sheets.
“D’oh, no, no, no!”
Pages and books littered the linen as they toppled forth from the small, cardboard box. Much worse than that was her water bottle, which had hit the bed and immediately sprung open, spilling forth onto all of her papers and the bed itself.
Jewel quickly grabbed it, having already emptied half of the water that had been inside. She quickly tried to salvage what was left, bringing the pages to her desk (which took up another 10%, by the way) to air out.
She noticed the script for the show she’d just been working on. Maybe it was anger from everything that had just happened, or heat of the moment, but something compelled her to toss it into the garbage can. It’s not like she needed it anymore anyways.
Grabbing all the towels she had from the bathroom, she started to try to pat her bed dry, so she wouldn’t have to spend the night on a damp mattress. It didn’t take long to realize that the water had already seeped well into the cushions, and that drying it now would be a futile effort. With a huff, he tossed the towel she was holding down and sat on it, pulling out her phone.
A few messages from Tangle, a few inquiries to the Robotnik Theatre Company Instagram- wait a second. She didn’t even work for them anymore. She quickly opened the app to sign out, knowing that they’d have to replace her now. It was a small victory, but that’s all she could really get right now.
The messages from Tangle weren’t substantial either, sending pictures backstage of the closing night of her show. The lemur had told Jewel about it so many times, but Jewel was completely drawing a blank on what her friend was even in at the moment. She knew she was in the ensemble, as usual, but that was about it.
The beetle couldn't even be bothered to care at the moment, setting her phone aside and curling up into the towels on her bed. She was too tired and bothered to even get up to change into her pajamas, so her work clothes would just have to do. Tomorrow would be just as extravagant, because what could be more exciting than looking for a new job?
***
Jewel sat up in her bed groggily, her wings feeling tight and uncomfortable from the constrictive suit she’d decided to sleep in.
She slid off the bed, opening up her laptop and logging in before heading into the bathroom. The ancient device needed at least three minutes now to even function, so she’d figured it best to log in and let it figure itself out as she tended to her morning needs in her routine. Once she’d brushed her teeth and wiped off the previous night's makeup (which definitely hadn't smeared down her face with tears, why would she have cried? She didn’t even like that job) and returned to her laptop, it was functional, more or less. It still ran on its own time, but she couldn’t be bothered to care anymore. She’d had this laptop since she was a teenager, and was far from able to afford a new one.
She quickly started browsing various job offering websites, hoping to find something in the theatre realm, but not holding her breath. It wasn’t easy to land directing jobs, especially not when the biggest theatre company in town just fired you on baseless claims just to get you out of there. She was still quite salty.
The closest thing she could find was a job as a backstage hand at a community children’s theatre. Not her first choice, or her second, or her third… Okay, it was far from what she wanted to do, and quite a drop from her previous work, but still, it was work in theatre. She submitted her incredibly overqualified application, and leaned back in her chair, which creaked as if it held a hundred tortured souls. At least, that’s how Jewel pictured it. She’d had that chair for years, and that cursed sounds still scared the bejeebers out of her any time she so much as turned to look to the side.
She shut the laptop, not wanting to ask it for anything beyond the bare minimum, and got up from her chair. She pinched the bridge of her nose and went back to the bathroom, changing out of yesterday’s, now very crumpled, suit, into more comfortable loungewear. She hardly ever got to wear anything like that, mainly on account of wanting to look professional and put together, which were two facets of herself she was very much questioning since the previous night.
She took the towels off of her bed now that it was at least not soaked, and carried them down to the communal laundry room. She put them into a machine and returned to her room, trying to pull everything back together to look at least semi-functional. Getting fired had really taken a lot out of her, which was odd.
So often she complained about working there, about how her role was treated as an afterthought, about how she had to practically beg to even suggest a show. She was a college trained director, it wasn’t like she was some hack who got the job because she agreed with every little thing Robotnik said. She worked hard for that position, and he’d been so quick to replace her with someone who couldn’t tell stage left from right.
It was just so… demeaning, as if Robotnik had just been waiting to replace her. There was no loyalty in the company, nowhere to “move up,” so to speak. You were where you were, and that was that. All it had taken was one stuffy platypus to throw everything out of whack, and cost her a hard earned, decent paying job. Although, in all honesty, she was not getting paid what she should have. Robotnik cut corners wherever he could, and her pay was no exception.
Something Jewel had heard from Tangle anytime she complained about working there was how much better she deserved. How any company would be lucky to have her directing. To have her knowledge, her vision, her history. Hell, she’d worked for the biggest company in town. If they knew she was out of a job, the other companies would be begging at her feet. Right…?
Jewel sighed, flopping back in the potentially possessed chair. Checking her phone, she could see posts made by Tangle and her friends from Mobius Productions, the theatre company the lemur had committed her “talents” to.
Mobius lived in some weird in-between of not quite professional, not quite community. They had the biggest venue in town, even bigger than Robotnik, if you’d believe it, but they also didn’t have the sets and props to feel professional, and they hardly filled half the seats.
Either way, it sounded like a really fun environment, at least from what Jewel had heard, even if the directing team were “A bunch of hard-asses,” as Tangle had so eloquently put it. She’d been warned especially of some sheep named Lanolin, and how she was the strictest, meanest, least fair director that Tangle had ever worked with. But, Jewel also knew that Tangle had a tendency to embellish, so this “Lanolin” probably wasn’t all that bad.
Now that the lemur was on her mind, Jewel figured she could use some company, and now that Tangle’s show had wrapped up last night, she might be available. She sent a quick text, which read:
Hey Tang, I was wondering if you were free. I’m just kind of lazing around, and it feels like a waste of time.
Tangle, as she often did, responded seemingly as quickly as Jewel’s text had been sent.
Don’t you have work???
I thought you had work
I can come over but I thought you had work
Jewel sighed, simply texting back:
I’ll tell you about it when you get here.
Tangle was quick to get over to the apartment, unlocking the door with the code Jewel had told her, that she surprisingly hadn’t forgotten. She stepped inside and wormed her way through the cramped space, her tail accidentally twacking various objects, but catching them before they could fall.
“Yo.” She tossed herself onto the bed. “I seriously thought you were working today. It’s a weekday. Are you sick or somethin’?”
“No, I’m not sick. I, uh…” Jewel tried to phrase it as best she could, before deciding that straightforward, brutal honesty was the way to go. “I got fired… last night.”
Tangle’s eyes widened in shock. “Fired? You got fired?”
“Yeah…” Jewel muttered, still feeling dejected about everything.
Tangle, however, seemed almost stoked. “Jewel, that’s awesome!”
“Whuh?” Jewel looked at her friend in confusion.
“You hated it there.”
“Yeah, I know I hated it there, but it was how I got money.”
“And I know how to help you with that!” Tangle pulled out her phone, fumbling it about for a moment before opening a group chat. She shoved the phone into Jewel’s face. “One of our directors retired last night! It was her last show! You could take her job!”
Jewel took the phone, reading over the sentimental goodbye from the now ex-director. “Tangle, it’s a bit more complicated than that. They don’t just hire anyone.”
“No, but you aren’t just anyone.” Tangle grabbed her phone back. “You’ve been in theatre since you were a teen, you went to college for this, you worked at freakin’ Robotnik Theatre Company! You’re the most qualified person in town! Besides, you’ll have a way better time with us.”
“What if they aren’t looking to replace her? What if Lanolin is doing just fine on her own?”
“Oh please, Lanolin’s a follower. She might act all tough and whatnot, but she’s gonna have no clue how to lead rehearsals. All she can do is keep us in line. But acting pulling a show together? That takes something special. That takes someone like you! ”
Jewel contemplated what Tangle had said, still finding various holes in the logic. “I was just on job listings today, and they didn’t have anything up. Besides, I already submitted my resume somewhere else.”
Tangle’s ears drooped in disappointment. “Oh…”
Jewel hated seeing her friend feel dejected after proposing such a strong idea, in her mind, that was. But she had to face the facts. If they weren’t publicly looking for someone, then why would she have a chance?
But then again, Tangle had a point. This was a way better job than what she’d been looking at, and she was perfectly qualified to get it.
She sighed, relenting slightly. “Do you know if they have anyone in mind?”
Tangle quickly perked up again. “Not that I know of, or not that we’ve been told. I can give you Lanolin’s email, maybe you could get an interview!”
“And how would I tell them I found out that they needed someone?”
“Just tell her that word gets around in the theatre scene. For all she knows, you heard it from everyone.”
Tangle quickly sent Jewel Lanolin’s email, and after a few more minutes of talking, took off, apparently having plans with one Whisper the wolf, whom Jewel had yet to meet, but heard a lot about.
After opening her computer and letting it mellow out for a few minutes, she composed the most articulate email she could.
“Ms. Lanolin, I have heard that your theatre company has recently lost a director. If you are looking for someone to replace her, I would be more than willing to apply to fill her role. Below, I have attached my resume. I hope to hear from you soon.”
After reading over the simple email at least a dozen times, Jewel finally sucked it up and pressed send. It was late anyways, it wasn’t like she’d get a response any time-
Ding.
The laptop went off with a quiet sound, indicating a new email. “Wow, that was fast.” Jewel murmured to herself.
She opened up the message.
“Ms. Jewel, I see you have a very prolific career in this space. If possible, I’d like to meet with you to discuss further. I’m free tomorrow at 10:00am. Please come to our venue, I’ll be there to greet you at the front door.”
That went… insanely well. Jewel quickly typed back a response, promising to be there. She pulled herself back into bed, already running through any job interview questions in her head. She couldn’t muck this up. If she did, then she would be saying hello to a role as a backstage helper in children’s theatre.
***
Jewel stood on the steps of the theatre, checking her watch repeatedly, counting down the minutes. She’d gotten there very early, so she couldn’t blame the sheep for not having arrived. If anything, it was almost unreasonable to expect her to have gotten here so early. It was 9:25, but Jewel had been so anxious about the interview that she’d gotten up at six, done her makeup, worn her best suit, anything to look as professional of a director as possible.
9:30. No Lanolin.
9:35. No Lanolin.
9:40. No Lanolin.
“Why did I think she’d be here so soon?” Jewel whispered to herself. Hindsight was always 20/20, but the fact that she’d expected someone to be here this early should’ve been a huge mistake off the bat. Finally, at 9:44, Lanolin walked up the cement steps.
“Ah, Ms. Jewel.” The sheep had something of a drawl to her voice, low and calm, not rushing from one word to another, as Jewel was prone to do.
“Oh, um, just Jewel is fine.” Jewel extended her hand. Lanolin met it, shaking firmly. Not wanting to look weak, Jewel hid the pain from Lanolin’s firm handshake.
“Well, Jewel. I was certainly glad to see an email from someone of your caliber. We’ve been on the fence about putting out listings, but clearly, that don’t matter. Word gets around, I suppose.”
“Heh, y-yeah, it does.” Jewel smiled a bit too wide. She shook her hand behind her body, trying to clear the pins and needles from that handshake.
“Alright then, c’mon inside and we’ll talk a bit more.” Lanolin unlocked the large doors, having to shoulder check it to open. “Sorry about that, they could sure use some grease.” She sighed sheepishly.
Jewel followed her inside, admiring the space. She’d come to see Tangle perform a few times, and the venue really was something special.
The glamour of that was quickly stripped away as Lanolin led her into a small office, sitting behind a desk and pulling out some forms. Jewel took the small seat in front of the desk. It almost seemed like it had been made for a child, it was so small.
“So, Jewel,” She started, sliding a copy of the beetle’s own resume across the table to her. “I perused your resume, and I’ve got to say, you’ve done a whole lot in this domain.”
“Oh, y’know,” Jewel chuckled awkwardly. “I just enjoy the work.”
“Well, if I may ask, what do you want from here?”
Jewel was taken aback by the sudden question. “Could you, uh, rephrase that?”
“Sorry, I mean, why come here? You’ve been workin’ at the highest rated company in town for the better part of three years. Why leave that behind and come here?”
“Oh, of course, silly me.” Jewel quickly tried to think up an excuse. Admitting she was fired two days ago hardly seemed like a good call. “Well, uh, I just thought it was a bit too stifling in such a professional setting. I really want to… stretch my creative legs, so to speak, and I think that a more… casual company could really help me do that.”
“Right, right.” Lanolin nodded, marking something down.
“Sweet Gaia, this feels like a highschool job interview all over again.” Jewel thought to herself, subtly pulling on the collar of her suit.
“Well, Jewel, if I can be totally honest, you’re a bit overqualified for this position. I’m not sure we’d be able to offer you the same pay that Robotnik must’ve been shelling out for you.”
“That’s fine!” Jewel said a bit too hastily. “I mean, I’m fine with that. I just need something to… tie me over, between more professional things, y’know?”
“Why would you say that? That’s a total lie. You need this job.”
“If that’s the case, we’d be more than happy to sign you.”
“Really?” Inside, Jewel was beaming, but she tried to maintain her serious aura.
“Of course,” Lanolin pulled out a form. “Having someone of your ability on our team could really help us out, especially since sometimes, I really don’t feel like much of a director.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re just splendid.” Jewel affirmed as she took the page from Lanolin. She quickly read over the terms, not really looking into the specifics. A job was a job, and if she could get paid for doing what she loved, then she’d sign a million forms.
She signed her name at the bottom and slid the page over to Lanolin.
“I’d say that about covers what we need from ya.” Lanolin put the form away. “We’ll be in touch. The next season doesn’t start for a few weeks, and we’re still looking for what show to put on.”
Jewel perked up slightly at that. “Oh, if it isn’t any trouble, I could help with that too. I know plenty of shows.”
Lanolin raised an eyebrow, not necessarily surprised, but also not expecting the new hire to be so ready to help out. “That so? Well, you can send me some of your suggestions and I’ll think ‘em over. We can come to a decision together.”
“That sounds great.” Jewel was over the moon. She got creative control, she got to help out, she was going to direct a show that actually meant something to her, and with Lanolin no less, who she was really struggling to locate any of the trouble Tangle had mentioned. This sheep seemed wonderful, a real class act, someone she really wouldn’t mind getting to know better.
“I’m glad to have you on staff.” Lanolin extended a hand.
Jewel’s gaze shot from Lanolin’s face, to her hand, to her face again. “Y-yeah, I’m glad to be here.” She took the sheep’s hand, readying for another bone crushing handshake.
Instead, she got a much more casual one. One that felt like a farewell from a friend, not something for business. This was what her future would be. Not being snuffed out by higher ups, or having to do whatever someone above her told her. She got to do what she wanted, with Lanolin.
Tangle had been right. This was shaping up to be much, much better than Robotnik’s.