The director stood in front of the cast, clipboard in hand and a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, folks. Time to hand out your wages from your last shift. Step forward when your name is called.”
“Duke, $200. Comment: Your look fits the role of a sanitation worker perfectly.”
Duke grinned, flaunting his cash. “Told y’all. Like fine wine—I get better with age!”
“Giselle, $100. Comment: Worked three days, lazed two. Most of the time, you were panting like you’d run a marathon.”
“Excuse me!” Giselle huffed. “Have you seen me? I’m not built for cardio!”
“Justin, $0. Comment: Letting fans do your work doesn’t count.”
Justin’s jaw clenched. He never asked them to help—those fans just showed up with brooms and devotion. Still, it didn’t matter now. Zero dollars spoke louder t
