Alright, so you got the part. Stop waving it in our faces like some flag. I’ll admit it, I’m jealous. Like you didn’t already know. But I won’t mention it; I won’t say a word because I don’t want to hurt your feelings. Even though you did that to me. What, don’t you remember that night at the restaurant? You sobbed, and you would only talk to me. You told me how jealous you were that I had gotten that part, how much you wished that you had instead. You don’t think that hurt me? It ruined it for me, that’s what you did. It was the first time that I had gotten a real part, and you ruined it for me.
That night, in the dark lobby of the restaurant, I sat and listened to your every word, every complaint. Never once did I mention all the times that you had won the part and I hadn’t. I never stopped you to make you realize that this was the first show ever where I had done better than you. Instead, I let your words take their poisonous effect, scarring my happy memories.
I won’t make a scene though, and you will probably never hear all these words that flit around in my mind. They will never make their way into your pretty little head, and it will never occur to you that you might be hurting me. You will continue to blindly plow through houses, and trees, and people, and me, just to have it your way, without ever a care in the world. I will lie here, bleeding, in the aftermath, but you cannot look back, only forward. So wave your flag in the path of destruction. I don’t care anymore. Go on, friend, go on, they’re calling your name.