part 1 of “The life of a showgirl, babe”

Her name is Lightbulb. She makes her money by being pretty, sexy, and witty. It’s a great job to her, being a silly comedian and YouTuber. She got the keys to the city, but she didn’t do it legitly, so she had to give them back. Everyone around her didn’t like that it wasn’t legit. Their name is Paintbrush. They make their little money being an actor in Inanimate Insanity. Great job for them, it seems. They don’t get much money, but they get benefits. They bought a ticket, rocking their alternative clothing like a badass. Yet they knew the truth would rip them off like false lashes and throw them away. … I arrive at the concert event. I’m not supposed to have a role, but the producers decided to let me do something, at least. I need some more cash. Lightbulb’s dancing in the garters and fishnets up stage. She’s singing in Spoiled Lemon for a joke song, it’s crazy. I never knew my old friend would get so popular while I stay lower on the pedestal of popularity. She has zero missteps, and fifty dollars that used to be thrown on the stage in her hand. She doesn’t know the life of a showgirl, I huff in my mind, and cross my arms with the bouquet in my left hand. I look sad — doesn’t make sense since I’m at a fucking concert. … Looking back, I guess it was kismet. … I wait by the stage door, packed in with the autograph hounds barkin’ her name. She’s glowing — glowing like stars, glowing like the end of a cigarette. Then, when everyone leaves, I stay. And give her the bouquet of carnations. And she said to me, “hey, thank you for the lovely bouquet! You’re sweeter than a peach.” I laugh and let her grab the bouquet. “Aw, you’re too kind! This must be hard work, you know, even if it’s just an appearance. You’re livin’ my dream.” “Oh, you don’t know the life of a showgirl, babe.” She admires the flowers. That hurts. Of course I do, I think, I know what it’s like. “And you, Painty, are never ever going to know. You’re just a silly actor.” Oh.