6
Remy
I nearly didn’t make it in time. It was almost one in the afternoon by the time I skidded into the studio, hoping they hadn’t closed the auditions yet. Heading directly to the hallway where I’d waited in line for hours the day before, my relief soared when I saw six guys still loitering outside the auditioning room.
All half dozen of them glanced over to narrow their eyes. It wasn’t nearly the reception I’d received from my fellow drummers yesterday, because today, they saw a guy.
They saw competition.
Chauvinist assholes.
“This the line for Non-Castrato?” I asked.
One guy was gracious enough to nod, but that was it. The others went back to ignoring me.
Only two other people showed up to wait in line after me, and this was their last day, so s**t, I was the third to last per
