The feeling of vindication was a fleeting warmth against the cold reality Alex now faced. He walked up the three flights of creaking stairs to his apartment, the building smelling faintly of dust and boiled cabbage. As he reached his landing, he saw her. Mrs. Gable, his landlady, a woman in her early forties with a permanently tired expression, stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot.
"Alex," she said, her voice tight. "Fancy seeing you."
"Mrs. Gable," he sighed. "Look, I know I'm late…"
"Late?" She let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Alex, you're two months behind. Today makes it three. That's nine hundred dollars. I like you, I really do. You're a quiet boy, you don't cause trouble. That's why I've been patient. But this is a business, not a charity."
"I know, and I'm so sorry. I… I had an accident, I was in the hospital," he explained, his words feeling flimsy even to his own ears. "But I can pay you back. I just need a little more time. I promise."
"Promises don't pay the mortgage, sweetie," she said, her expression softening slightly but her resolve firm. "I need the money by the end of the week, or I'm evicting you. I mean it this time."
The door to the apartment next to his opened. A young woman Alex had never seen before stepped out. She had sharp, intelligent eyes and dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and she looked from the landlady's frustrated face to Alex's desperate one.
"Is everything okay, Mrs. Gable? You're making a lot of noise."
"Oh! My apologies," the landlady said, her tone immediately becoming more respectful, suggesting the new neighbor paid her rent on time. "Just collecting rent. Nothing to worry about."
The young woman's gaze settled on Alex, cool and assessing. "How much does he owe?"
Mrs. Gable blinked. "Well, it's three months. Nine hundred dollars."
Without another word, the woman pulled a wallet from her bag, counted out nine crisp hundred-dollar bills, and handed them to the astonished landlady. "Here. Please try to keep the discussions quieter in the future."
She gave Alex a brief, unreadable glance before disappearing back into her apartment, the door clicking shut behind her. Alex and Mrs. Gable stood in silence, both staring at the money in her hand.
"Well," the landlady finally said, tucking the bills into her pocket. "I guess that settles that. You have some strange friends, Alex. Don't let it happen again." She turned and walked down the stairs, leaving Alex staring at the closed door of the stranger next door, completely and utterly bewildered.
Shaking his head, he went inside his small apartment. After a quick shower, he put on his waiter uniform and headed to The Gilded Spoon, hoping his boss would understand.
He didn't.
"Parker!" his manager barked the moment Alex walked in. "Where have you been? You missed two shifts. No call, no-show."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Henderson. I was in an accident. I was in the hospital," Alex tried to explain.
"The hospital? I've heard that one before," his boss sneered, not even looking up from his paperwork. "I run a business here. I can't have unreliable staff. Clean out your locker. You're fired."
Alex stood there, stunned. "But… I have a doctor's note."
"I don't care. You're done. Get out."
Dejected, Alex walked home. Unemployed, broke, and now deeply indebted to a complete stranger. He collapsed onto his bed, the weight of it all pressing down on him.
[Daily task issued.] The familiar blue screen appeared before his eyes.
[Daily Task]
* Objective: Spend 1 hour practicing lines from "A Streetcar Named Desire." Focus on emotional delivery.
* Reward: 10 points.
He had nothing else to do. With a sigh, he pulled up a script on his phone and began to read, pacing his tiny room. For the next hour, he lost himself in the words. When the hour was up, a new notification appeared.
[Task Complete. +10 points awarded.]
[Current points: 10]
[Allocate points?]
He focused his thoughts on his acting skill.
[10 points allocated to 'Acting'. Skill level increased.]
A strange warmth spread through him, a feeling of understanding settling in his mind. It was a small comfort, but it was something.
The next day in Professor Albright's class was torture. Alex sat in the back, watching Maya and Victor whisper and laugh together in the front row. They looked like the perfect couple. Maya looked happy, truly happy, in a way she hadn't looked with him for a very long time.
"Alright, settle down, you aspiring dramatists!" Professor Albright called out. "Today, we test your adaptability! We're doing impromptu scene work. I will divide you into groups and give you a script. You have thirty minutes to prepare. This will be a significant portion of your grade."
The class groaned. Albright began reading off names. "...Victor, Maya, Liam, and Sarah. Your script is on the table. And our final group... Marcus, Jessica, Chloe... and Alex."
Alex saw Chloe, a notoriously competitive student, roll her eyes dramatically, while Marcus, a big guy with more confidence than talent, let out an annoyed sigh. Jessica, the third member, just shrugged, seemingly indifferent. They clearly didn't want him.
Victor and Maya's group went first. Their scene was a romantic drama, and they played it up for all it was worth. It ended with a long, passionate kiss. Victor dipped Maya dramatically, and she kissed him back with an intensity that made the class applaud.
Finally, it was their turn. The scene was from a cheap detective noir play.
"Then the dame walked in," Marcus said, squinting at the imaginary door. "And I knew… I knew she was trouble." His delivery was completely flat, all bluster and no substance. Chloe, playing a witness, rushed her lines nervously, her voice barely audible.
Then it was Alex's turn. He stepped forward as the world-weary detective confronting the main suspect, played by Marcus. Everyone expected the usual fumbling performance.
"You can stop the act, Johnny," Alex said, his voice steady and low. It carried through the room with a new resonance. "I know you were at the docks last night. I have a witness who saw you leaving just after the shot was fired."
Marcus scoffed, "That's crazy! I was at home! All night!"
"Were you?" Alex took a step closer, his gaze unwavering. "Then you won't mind explaining how a man fitting your description was seen tossing a .38 revolver into the bay? Tell me another story, Johnny. This one's getting old."
His delivery was clean. The desperation and weariness of the character were there, not in shouting, but in the controlled quietness of his tone. He didn't stumble. He didn't waver. He simply performed.
The room was silent for a beat. Professor Albright leaned forward, a genuinely intrigued expression on his face. Compared to the cardboard acting of his group mates, Alex's performance had been sharp and believable.
[Performance successful. Skill 'Acting' has leveled up to Lv. 3.]
[New Skill unlocked: 'Voice Projection' Lv. 1.]
As he walked off the stage, Chloe gave him a surprised, almost grudgingly impressed look. Marcus just looked confused, as if he couldn't figure out what had just happened.
After class, the reality of his situation crashed back down. The small victory in class wouldn't pay his rent or buy him food. He needed a job. Two jobs, probably. As he walked past the main bulletin board in the arts building, a brightly colored flyer caught his eye.
AUDITIONS
The Downtown Community Theatre presents 'An Echo in the Alley'
Seeking male actor, 20-30, for the supporting role of 'Mickey'.
It was a minor role, a bit part, really. But at the bottom of the flyer, in small print, were the magic words: Stipend: $500.
It wasn't much. It wouldn't solve his problems. But it was better than nothing. It was a start. Standing there, with the noise of the university buzzing around him, Alex Parker made a decision. He was going to get that part.