Title: Rooftop

Prompt: You don't need a reason to help people. 

“Where the hell is she?” My superior shouted as everyone was scrambling around, making calls, trying to find our lead actress. Some people were fuming, others were in tears due to the stress. I was on the brink of tears, but I had no reason to be, so I held them back. 

I was just an unpaid script reading intern, who desperately, and I mean desperately, needed to make a good name for myself on this set. If this didn’t go well, the production company I worked for would definitely fire me, I would not get good recommendations, and I could kiss my dreams goodbye. 

My life was riding on this gig, but I couldn’t compare myself to people who’s life was this gig. 

Commotion filled the soundstage, and it seemed like everyone but me was participating in the search party. I just sat there, chewing on my lip, rereading the scenes we had to shoot over and over.

“Why aren’t you helping? What kind of useless piece of are you? Who hired you?” Someone shouted at me. I didn’t exactly know what their role was, but the way they were dressed and the aura of superiority that pretty much oozed out of them was enough to help me realize that they were someone I should be wary of, and someone I didn’t necessarily want yelling at me. “Well, don’t just sit there staring at me like you’re inept, get off of your and do something! Good for nothing.” She yelled one last time without stomping off. 

I was instantly ashamed that I had jumped out of my seat so quickly. I was even more ashamed to admit that her words pretty much stained my eyes with embarrassing moisture, threatening to fall at a moments notice. Maybe it had to do with the anger that was bubbling up at being verbally abused. But I couldn’t talk back if I wanted a good name. But could I really do anything if I wanted a good name? I mean, someone who was probably some big name executive had just called me useless. I wasn’t exactly blessed with a face that blended in or was hard to remember, so as far as I was concerned, I was done here. And this studio was big. If someone called me useless here, no one would want to test that theory elsewhere. I was done in the business, all because some bratty diva decided to extend her lunch hour. I took a deep breath before marching up the stairs to the roof top. If they found her before I got back, if I got back, great. They could consider my absence a resignation. Perhaps they’d do me the courtesy of cleaning my remains off of the sidewalk if I decided I couldn’t go back. 

You know, people would think a decision like this would take a lot of time, that you’d spend months, even years wondering if your life was worth it before deciding to take a plunge. But really, these thoughts came quickly, like a freaking bullet train. Especially for me. I tended to make decisions very abruptly, and it always seemed to work. My judgement had never failed me, and right now, it was weighing my options and was telling me to jump before I lost the chance. 

My options were simple: either I move back home and hear my mother say I told you so and be miserable for the rest of my life, I try to make it despite a horrible reputation, fail, and decide to jump a year from now, or jump now and get things over with. Jumping now seemed like the better option. I’d have less debt on me this way. At least my mother wouldn’t hate me entirely. I could rest easy without her cursing my name everyday while I was six feet under the ground. 

I trudged upstairs, parting ways with any good memories I had. It wasn’t surprising that I had little to none. My support system consisted of some fish I had back home, and maybe my roommate on a good day, a good day being a day I could actually muster up some money to pay the rent. 

The breeze up sixty stories was kind of comforting. It was way cleaner than a few stories down. At least my last memory wouldn’t be of the smell of a sewer filling my nose. 

It was about 5 PM, the sun was settling down, and people were mostly home right now, eating. Maybe my only regret would be not having my favorite meal one last time: burgers. I loved burgers. But then again, with my standard of living, you couldn’t afford to love anything other than two-for-one-dollar cheeseburgers from the questionable fast food joint down the block. 

I had walked to the very edge of a building, ready to climb to the top and let go. I wasn’t very sentimental about the whole deal, I just hoped it would be quick, easy, and splattered enough to make the six o’clock news. 

“If you come any closer, I swear I will jump!” 

I turned my head slowly to my left, wondering where the hell the voice came from. I’m glad I wasn’t blinded my the walking discoball, wearing six inch diamond studded stilettos to match the ridiculously shimmery mini dress covering a small bit of her body. Her sunglasses were dark, and much too big for her small face. It didn’t really matter, her hair was so voluminous that it made her face practically disappear anyway. I said nothing, but just stared at her with a look of utter confusion. 

“Don’t you freaking dare talk me out of it!” She threatened again, pointing a dangerously sharp  nail at me. 

“Okay.” I shrugged, turning back to look at the pavement. I was ready to mount over and position my jump, but my concentration was broken again. 

“Okay?” She repeated, and I detected some disbelief. 

“Yes? I’m respecting your wishes?” I shot back, upset that this too was getting ruined. 

“They didn’t send you up here to stop me?” She lowered her sunglasses, looking at me dead in the eye. They weren’t bloodshot, or dead. They were undoubtedly scared. 

“Why would anyone send me up here to stop you?” I questioned, trying not to pay attention to the fear that would draw anyone in to help. 

“Do you not know who I am?” She questioned, removing her glasses and tossing them on the concrete rooftop. 

“Should I?” I questioned again, trying to recognize her. I searched through every even remotely famous person whose face I knew, but I couldn’t seem to match her to anyone. She was obviously unhappy that someone didn’t recognize her. She steadied herself, extending her arms to find her