Teardrops are a collection of short, slightly sad stories (but remember, there are tears of joy and of love), that exist for a brief moment before they are wiped, and shed every Sunday. Or when they are ready, whichever comes last...


by Antheros

I will ask her out today. Yes, last night I decided it, and today I'm going to do it. Casually, that's the plan. We'll talk to each other as we do every other day, I'll ask her about that audition she had. If it went well, I'll say that it's great news, we must celebrate. Come on, I'll buy you a cup of coffee or something, tell me how it went. Let the conversation flow a little bit, tell her I think she's a terrific actress, and at some good point say that we should go out, have dinner, celebrate the test. I heard of this new restaurant, a small place that is supposed to have great food. Do you have anything to do tonight? She'll come. I think she likes me a little, asking me those dumb questions about Beckett that she didn't have to ask. She barely knows Beckett, actually, she probably heard about him somewhere and maybe watched one of his plays. But she is nice, I like her, she is not empty headed. She wants to be an actress not for the glamour, but because she enjoys acting. Sometimes I saw a glimpse of doubt on her eyes, yes, when she was rehearsing that scene with Tim and she didn't know I could see her face from where I was. Maybe she would rather do something else, but she likes acting. Who doesn't want to do something else, or at least did when was starting the career? Most people, I guess. I should have known that before, when I was eighteen. I should have known more then, but life is like that, things will never be perfect, and in hindsight you'll always be able to see more and wonder if it was the right decision. But... time heals. Slowly, it's true, and is not a magic balm that heals everything, no. Maybe the audition did not go well. Probably, she was nervous and I don't know if she was well prepared. I'll say that it happens, next time will be better. Come on, let's get a cup of coffee, it's just an audition. She'll complain to me, tell me about her sadness, and I'll ask her out too. You're sad, you need something to cheer you up. Let me take you out tonight. Do you want to watch a movie? Maybe that's not a good idea, maybe I should invite her to the movies only if the audition went well. Then I'll whisper in her ear, when the leading lady appears sexy in some scene, "that's you tomorrow." Only you are sexier. It's not true, well, maybe it is, I said sexier, not beautiful. She's not ugly, no, I think she's cute. Just not the femme fatale type, more the girl-next-door. I like her legs. I wonder when I'll have them around me.

"Hello Jack, what's up?"

"Hi Tim."

Talk to Jack. When will Emma show up?

"Emma made quite a scene yesterday," Jack says.


"Peter said something to her about her acting, I didn't hear well. A joke, something like `your performance would be better if you unbuttoned a couple of those', because she was wearing this long sleeved shirt buttoned to her neck. You know Peter, he's constantly saying those things, he's a joker, nobody takes him seriously. I think she likes that shirt, it probably costed her a lot of money, and she started to shout that she was not one of those girls, that she took acting seriously and a lot of stuff, she said some pretty nasty things to Peter. Things were really tense."

"Really? But out of the blue?"

"Sort of. You know Emma, it's not the first time she does something like that. I wonder if it's her lack of formal training, she feels insecure. Peter is a bastard, of course, teasing her with his constant reciting of Shakespeare. But she has done that to me before, too. She once made a big scene saying that I was a moron, that I didn't know what I was doing, that I thought I was a big shot but I was shit, lots of things, I don't even know why. I just ignored it all. But Peter won't, and we will have bad weather for a while."

Emma has this short temper, it's true. I've heard her complaining about other people, and how she speaks ill of them. She is a little bitchy, she pestered me with those Beckett questions, and I only like him, I'm not a professor or have studied his plays, just watched a few of them. Poor Emma, she's kind of lost in her life. Maybe she should give up acting. She is not pretty enough, and, whatever they say, that makes a difference. She is not talented enough to compensate, anyway. Maybe she could break through. She has some talent; but she would have to try seriously, and she doesn't want to study. Such a pity. I could talk to her, but she probably would end up discussing with me, not accepting my advice. We'll end up in an argument, and she might think I was taking Peter's side. I gave up trying to help people in situations like these. Unless they know they are lost, it's useless. Worse, they even try to go to the exactly opposite direction just to prove that they are not wrong. Prove that they are not wrong, not that they are right. Well, John wanted to watch that Danish movie, I could call him. We only talked for a couple minutes the other day, we could catch up tonight.

03 Apr 2005