The stream is out. “The Future” is finally out for all to enjoy, all fifty people who were around when I ended it a four o’clock. On unfortunate fact about normalcy, I have to end before my neighbor’s show up.
As soon as I finish, I check my email, hoping for responses to my many job application. So far, I’ve had two requests for an interview, one from an office in Seattle, one from the grocery store. I interviewed for both, though I haven’t heard anything back. There aren’t any requests for interview in my inbox, but there is an email from Nina. I forgot I gave her my personal email back when she first joined.
I open the email. It reads, “Hey Ellen, How’s life? Thing’s have been crazy since you left. It got so bad we all decided to give the boss what for, and when he kept pushing us, we all quit within a week. Lucy apparently has another job lined up already, but Maryann and I didn’t. We were wondering if you had any luck so far. As for non-work-related things, how would you like to hang out sometime? We’ve all missed having you around. Sincerely, Nina Cravitz”
I reply, “Hey Nina, no luck with job searching so far. I got a couple of interviews but haven’t gotten any further than that. It’s alright though, I’ve been using my free time to relax and recuperate from the crazy year we’ve had. Hopefully I’ll get something soon. I’d love to hang out with you guys if I get the chance. Thank you, Ellen Thompson.”
I look over it before I send it. It’s not a bold-faced lie, but it feels pretty close to it. I’m trying to stretch my money out, but between rent and student loans it’s going to be tight. I should probably apply for unemployment, but I don’t know if I’ll qualify, since I doubt the state considers “invested in crypto” to be a good enough reason to quit. I could ask my parents for money for food at least. Or maybe I could pawn some of my things.
I look over the responses to my stream. Surprisingly, most people seem to like my music. I know only a few people listen, but since I’ve had no formal training, I was sure I’d suck at it. At least one person wants to know when “The Future” will be officially released. I don’t know, but soon, I hope.
I don’t see anyone wanting to financially support me. It’s alright. I’m struggling, but it’s not dire like it is for many other people right now.
I consider looking at Julius Corvin’s YouTube page again, then stop him. I bought all the music from him I’m ever going to listen to, all I’ll be doing is increasing his ad revenue. Even if he’s renounced NFTs, which deep down I suspect he hasn’t, I’ll never again be convinced he’s a good person.
That’s one good thing about not being famous. No matter what I do, there’s a limit to the amount of people I can disappoint.
I check my email again and notice that Nina’s already replied. I wonder if she’s at her computer for the same reason I am. I open the email, which says, “I looked you up online to find you on social media. I didn’t know you sang. It’s a bit rough, but it could be improve with practice. I have a friend who helps people learn music. Email me and I’ll give you his contact info.”
I think for a bit. I would love to get better at singing, but if I’m honest I’m growing to love writing lyrics and music more. At first I only wrote music so I wouldn’t get flagged by YouTube for copyright infringement, but then overtime I started to feel more comfortable expressing myself. I write back, “I’d love to get better, but money’s a bit tight at the moment. Glad to hear you like it though. Want to friend each other on Facebook?”
After I send it off, I refresh the web page in the hopes something shows up. Nothing still. Whatever, something’s going to turn up soon, I’m sure of it. Or at least I’m telling myself I’m sure, so I don’t freak out. To aid in the effort to not completely freak out, I go online to look for anything I haven’t applied for yet. I send out a lot more. At least now, when I end up homeless, no one can say it was because I didn’t try. Just in case I refresh the page again, and there’s an email from the grocery store with the subject line reading, “Are you free to start tomorrow at 5pm?”. Well, night shifts suck, but at the moment I can’t complain. I email back saying “Yes. I’ll be there.”
I open my webcam again. It’s time to finish “The Future” for real. I don’t know if it’ll be my big success, the song that will finally enable me to stop worrying about money forever and do what I want with my life, I just know that it’s my favorite song. I also know that no matter how hard I end up having to work in my next job, I’ll never stop singing. If I keep belting out tunes, eventually somebody will listen to what I have to say.
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