This is who I am. This is what I've done. Now who wants to take on the champ?

Can't see me if I'm here!

But I'm still here!

Can't see me!

Never mind.

Balance.

You're auditioning for a Broadway play.

You're last in line,

after a long assortment

of famous singers

and gorgeous actors.

The readings are first.

There's the part of Amanda,

the overworked step-mom.

There's the part of Bruce,

the imprisoned stylist.

There's even the part of Corey,

a bird that makes friends with the cat trying to eat him.

Then, the singing.

They sing about how they love the theater,

they sing about how their lover deserted them.

They sing about how much worse their life is than anyone else's,

they sing about how much better it is.

A thousand songs,

all beautiful,

all wonderfully sung,

all meaningless.

Finally,

it's your turn.

You trudge up the stairs,

knowing you won't get a part,

hoping beyond hope that you will.

You whisper at first.

You begin to stutter,

you stop.

You think that if you say one more thing,

you'll ruin your chances

forever.

But then you close your eyes,

and you sing.

You sing,

you sing the most amazing song any of the people in that room

had ever heard.

You belt it out as if you couldn't hold it in anymore,

and even as you take a peek at your captive audience,

you grin,

because it's your song,

something you wrote,

something you composed.

When you finish,

some of the other actors

scoff.

They boo.

They ask you who you think you are

to come and upstage them like that.

You ignore them almost the whole way out the door,

when you turn,

you shout back,

I'm the champ.

The next day,

you get a call

from the casting director.

You got the lead.

-/|\-

No one can change your life except you

Don't ever let anyone step all over you