In short... the commercial became a symbol. The emblem of the past 3 years and what I was aiming for. The proof of what I'd been "working" for. Even if it was going to be for a split second, I was going to be on screen with a top star and everyone was going to be able to see it. Affirmed and confirmed.
***
I walk into the office, Tuesday morning, feeling hopeful. I have an audition lined up. It is going to be a good chill day in the office -- 2 of the partners are out of the country. When I hear the sound effects of the SW commercial playing through my co-workers speakers, I think she is viewing another cut of the screener, which had been edited multiple times already. I notice that she never calls me over to see it, even when she and her boss are discussing about posting the link online. I think it has to do with the frequent power trips she usually goes on regarding anything to do with my role at the company.
An email comes through: "Please LIKE **** 's new smartwater commercial!.... "
Oh gosh, I'd been waiting to see this... forever. I click on the link. It's funny. Wow, Ryan Seacrest must have shot last minute... the car scene is just meh.... the baby scene ok... it should be coming up soon. There are the trainers.... and cut to Jimmy Kimmel. The wigs. The end.
My ears start to ring. I feel top heavy as if I'm swimming underwater. I click replay. The same. Ryan, car, baby, trainers, jimmy, wigs. I watch it a third time. I mindlessly copy and paste the link onto my facebook status. Afterall, I'd shared to the whole world about my good fortune... it's only right that I share the opposite.
Cut out. It's not anything new. It's classic. It's a cliche. Hollywood up and comers who are devastated by their one shining moment being left behind in the circuitous corners of a tetragig harddrive.
"It's nothing new. It happens. It's normal." I tell myself over and over and over again. I refuse to be emotional about it. I have an audition to go to in a couple of hours. I have to play a slacker who doesn't care about much. "I dont' care. I don't care." I'm getting into character.
The ringing in the ears won't stop. My head feels heavier and heavier. I can breathe, but it feels like I'm stuck in a bubble. I don't recognize this situation. This feeling is new to me.
Somehow, I go to the audition. I even make the casting director laugh out loud. It must be a good sign. But maybe I got stuck in the character I was trying to play. "I don't care."
I come back to the office, where one of my other coworkers says, "I saw the commercial. Sorry. At least you got paid." Do people really think actors do it for the money?
Still, no bitterness or resentment. Only now, I'm tired. Only now, I still have 2 more hours to go before I can go home... to do what... I wonder.
I am driving home. Gridlocked as usual. All of a sudden, my eyes feel full. I look into the rearview mirror. Interesting, my eyes are wet, overbrimming, and spilling over. I can't help it. It won't stop. I wipe them moisture away. No avail. I'm breathing a little deeper and heavier. Are those noises coming from me? I'm glad I have my bangs to hide half of my face. In this pre-dusk environment, everyone can see the girl having an emotional breakdown during rush hour.
All along the 10, the 110, the 101, I cry. All along the the local streets, I cry. In the garage, I cry. I go inside, I talk to my roommates. I cry. My boyfriend comes over. I cry.
It's been two days. I'm not crying anymore. At least, not on the surface. But I haven't surfaced yet. I am still swimming in a sea...of...
.
....
........
disappointment. Disappointment like I have never felt before. I feel numb because I have never experienced this depth of ... yes, there it is again, disappointment. I am crushed. I feel like I was at the butt of a cruel joke.
The worst part: it is as if it never happened. It was like a dream. I am here, my life is the same, and nothing has changed. I could tell the story over and over a million times; it could be the testimony that encourages others... except, I have nothing to show for it. And it all becomes, an urban legend in the street records of my life.
The questions I am ignoring for the time being:
Why am I even doing this? How much longer before I give in? Am I refusing to see the signs? Is it me being stubborn? Am I serving myself a life-long sentence of lead-ons? What else would I think about doing? Am I ready? How hard have I been working at it? What is passion if not all of this and more? Is it a passion or an obsession? What else? What else What else?
Ignored. Until I am able to resurface.
Until I am sure that I am not sinking.
But. Right now. To be honest.
I don't want to swim. Let me float. Let me coast. Let me be.
***
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