Saturday, 6:58 pm.

*Ding.* I sighed as I heard my ringer go off. The shift I picked up was just probably approved, nothing else. It wasn’t the notification I was hoping to get, but the anticipation killed me. I waited for the Blue-Haven Productions email because I wanted to know if I won the contest or not. For context, I sent a 6 minute short film for their Dreamer Contest, where you were given the creative freedom to curate a sequel about Sven Bloomfield’s Dreamer; Sven’s character, Rae Orwell dreamt too much he ended up getting trapped in his own dreams.

I waited a few more minutes, and nothing. A few hours, and still absolutely nothing. It was now 11:36 pm, and I have grown tired of waiting for that email. So I scrolled through Tiktok to distract myself and eventually fell asleep. Cliché, I know right?

—

Tuesday, 2:02 pm.

I had forgotten about the contest now, and I was at school doodling my way through class, not even paying attention in whatever Ms. Ross was saying. *Ding.* My eyes lit up because we weren’t supposed to have our phones out and I was about to get in trouble, so I quickly made an excuse. “Sorry, my mom texted me about an emergency. Am I allowed to take the call?” Surprisingly, she believed it. I went outside to check the notification from my phone, and there it was. “Good morning, Dana Hughes. We are pleased to announce you as the second winner of our Dreamer Contest. Please arrive promptly this Friday at Blue-Haven Studio 9 (983 Queens Street) at 8:40 pm for the screening and meet & greet. The cast of Dreamer is looking forward to meeting you. Best, Jennifer of Blue-Haven.”

I squealed from excitement. YES. THIS IS IT. I finally get to meet Sven Bloomfield. I dashed my way back in the class pretending to look concerned and grabbed my bag. “Can I be excused?” I said miserably. “Yes, but don’t forget about that essay due tomorrow,” she said.

FUCK. I forgot about that. I was so focused on trying to win the contest I didn’t even have time to finish my essay. I have to grind tonight, I thought. Or else, I can’t go to the premiere. After hours of typing, I finally finished this 4 page essay. “Ugh. This took me so many hours to do. I just need to pass it, and I’ll be done with this week,” I whined.

—

Friday 5:12 pm.

I am so happy I don’t have class today. And I am absolutely excited for tonight. I got dressed, ate dinner, and got my brother to drive me to the venue. I got there right on time and saw a few other lads my age. I’m assuming they were also winners. I was going to approach them when I suddenly heard Sven shit-talking to his pr team. I mean of course he did see me and gestured to come over where he was. He pretended to look nice as if I hadn’t caught him treating his team rudely. He said, “Hey there! Are you excited for the premiere? You’re gonna love it.” I looked at him in disbelief and yelled, “I can’t believe I admire an idol who treats people like animals! Fuck you.” I left, and couldn’t believe the words that came out of my mouth. Did I really just say that? Although, it felt good to say that to him. I took my VIP pass off and tossed it on the ground. I despise him.