Free Play Dirty by Jessie K Page B

to fit his square-pegged talent into round roles, but it would be a lie to say it wasn’t disheartening.
    Truth be told, nothing seemed to fit after that one crazy, beautiful night with crazy beautiful Lynn. But just like Juliet, one night was all he’d gotten.
    After another month of rejection and second-rate performances, he lucked into running into his old professor from community college, and thus lucked into a last minute theater teacher position. It could have been so much worse; they were also hiring a pre-algebra teacher and Matthew was dismally atrocious at math, but his combination of degrees gave him just enough edge to share a tiny classroom next to a moderately-sized theater space.
    At least his final days were spent chasing down stage lights instead of suffering through day job interviews. This way didn’t feel as failure-riddled. He truly gave it his best shot until the very end … of his bank account. Maybe next summer, he’d have better luck. This teaching gig might set his portfolio above those around him.
    He’d take anything to differentiate himself from the other fish in the sea.
    Matthew snuck into his office and shut the door. He could pretend he was hunting down the roll call paper, but really, he just needed a moment. Over his last twenty-nine years, life spat a lot of mountains and hills at him. Some, he simply stepped over. Others required a full set of gear and hiking boots.
    He still hadn’t settled on what this teaching job was. The summer definitely felt like a mountain, one he’d had to combat in the sweltering temperatures with a tiny air conditioning unit and a refrigerator full of condiments. There were high points—landing small roles in boutique theaters, the commercial was nice just to say he was on television, and a fair share of pretty girls in his bedroom. Some more memorable than others.
    One, really, if he was being honest. Just that one. A brunette with amazing tits and a cell phone that was disconnected. Fucking heartache. She’d used him, and he’d die for the chance to let her do it again.
    Eventually, he learned to stop letting his heart overtake his mind. When her number came back as disconnected, he had gone into an alcoholic tailspin, but it didn’t last more than a night or two. Nolan reminded him he was Matthew Fucking Flint. He had abs of steel, guns for arms, and a smile that made panties wet across the bar.
    Nolan’s words, not his.
    Only getting a good role could truly soothe his ego, though. Hell, he had even started growing his hair out for a man bun. Go fucking figure. By this time next year, he’d be able to dazzle all the ladies and directors alike with his luscious hair. Worst case, he’d chop it all off and donate it, but why not?
    Besides, high school teachers with ponytails were the cool teachers. And if he had to be a teacher, he was going to be a cool one. Maybe he could even inspire some chubby kid reminiscent of his old self, and watch a new and budding career develop. Matthew could take him to auditions and give him plays to read, all the things his teachers did for him growing up.
    If he couldn’t be on stage, he could at least impart his love for the craft into young minds. Or spend the whole period silently calling them assholes and drinking in the employee breakroom. He had already seen the flasks passed around in the breakroom after first period.
    His first planned assignment was to get everyone to talk about their experiences with acting or the theater, and what drew them to it. No points awarded for “I had to take an art credit,” either.
    Mr. Flint was going to be kickass and firm.
    Although if it didn’t take up the entire class period, he had no fucking clue what to do. Lesson plans were sort of David-meets-Goliath at the moment, and he didn’t know where the hell to find a slingshot.
    The next set bell rang, announcing the start of the period. Matthew took a deep breath and collected his papers. If he could audition in some