Well this wasn't going well, thought Kylie as the entire play was about to go to Hell in a hand basket. And the irony of it all? This was just dress rehearsal.
"It's all her fault! She used my brush and threw it at me!" Kylie rolled her eyes at the brat pointing at her. Alison Whitney, spoiled-rotten, rich, ex-cheerleader, need to be stabbed... Kylie sighed; she never should've auditioned for this crap. And all she ever got to be was a maid. A maid. How demeaning.
I'm quitting anyway, so screw 'em all!
Throwing down her bonnet—which was just plain horrendous—she strode over to the blonde bitch from Hell and slapped her. And Lord, did it make her feel better. She turned away, struggling not to smile. Yes, today was a good day. She kept walking, ignoring her fellow actors' and actress' stares. She could even hear the brat crying and cracked a small grin.
"Miss Fox!" She stopped where she was and tilted her head to look at the director, honey brown eyes sparkling with mischief. She watched as the old man's lips moved, but heard nothing as the trap door she stood on fell open. She gasped in shock as she fell, beginning to panic as she just kept on falling. She screamed as everything went black.
Karma was such a bitch.