Inklings’s Docs Idol.

“How far are you willing to go for the sake of your career?” the talent agent had asked.

“Please. I would kill if it meant making it to the top of the charts every week,” had been Hoshiko’s response.

Now she stood behind the curtains of a vacant stage with blood dripping off the neck of her guitar and red splatters on her tattered dress. Hoshiko sighed to herself. All was said and done, and she had to get cleaned up so she wouldn’t be late to her album’s release party in a few hours. Her agent would be waiting for her arrival at the front of the plaza with the paparazzi.

Thinking back on the days when she had been nothing but an aspiring artist was bittersweet. Hoshiko hid a weary smile.

How naive I was back then. 

Tags: prose

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