Joey's P.O.V
Feeling utterly humiliated, I dash down the long hallway but am stopped by Tony, the guy who I was talking to earlier - he's about to go in for his audition.
"Hey! How did it go?"
"Um..." I stutter nervously, doing my best not to catch his eye; I can feel tears burning in mine, threatening to spill onto my cheeks. "Ok, I guess."
"Are you ok?" Tony asks, his smile quickly replaced by a look of concern.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I try to sound convincing but I don't think he's buying it. Thankfully, though, his name is called by the red-head and he's told to go into the auditorium.
"Sorry. I have to go. I hope you get a part anyway," says Tony.
"Good luck in your audition - you're gonna ace it!" I call after him, my voice wavers a little at the end of the sentence but I pass it off as I cough. He turns back to give me a quick grin before disappearing into the auditorium. As soon as he is gone, I continue running down the hall until I find the bathroom - I suddenly feel as though I'm going to get sick. Throwing myself against the door, I run in and lean over one of the sinks, gripping onto the edges.
But I don't throw up. I just stand there, motionless, head hanging as the tears fall from my eyes. After a few minutes that feel like an eternity, I tentatively touch the back off my head, where the bald patches are. Sure, I knew they were there... I just never really thought about them. They didn't seem like a big deal. But they are. They're disgusting. I'm disgusting. I know I am. I'm a freak who pulls out his own hair. I'll never be picked for a part. Ever. I'll never get a girl. I won't be able to get anywhere in life.
This knowledge doesn't stop me - even now, I am tearing my hair out, strand by strand. Because it's the only thing that makes the bad thoughts go away.