A disillusioned Gerard, and a dream realized.
He found himself in a small room, cluttered with this own mess of papers and comic books and Styrofoam cups of stale coffee. His drawing table began to creak and wobble as he dragged his rubber eraser over a sheet of paper that bore a pencil drawing of a fluffy cartoon character.
He began to draw the figure over again when the paper was cleared. He felt a sharp pain on his knuckles, as he tried to draw the unfamiliar figure for the fifth time. Frustrated, he flexed his hands and as he stretched his arms, he knocked over the coffee cup that was placed near his drawing. Coffee spilled all over the reams of papers where all his finished drawings were stationed. He saw those finished frames - all those drawings he spent days to complete - all soggy with coffee, he kicked his chair and sent it flying across the room.
Right away he grabbed for his bag and all his stuff. He was leaving, and for good. He wasn't coming back. Before he turned for the door, he snatched one of his drawings tacked onto a wall and stuffed it into his bag.
In his anger, he stormed out of his little space and out into another outer room where all the other assistants were working on the frames. The frames were due the next day. But Gerard did not care anymore.
"Where do you think you're going?" called Jules, the head assistant.
But Gerard ignored him as he marched into the lobby and then outside. He heard Jules coming and shouting after him. And before he could make a turn to the sidewalk, he felt Jules's sweaty hand touch his shoulder.
"Gerard" he said sternly, "They're due tomorrow. You can't leave now."
Wordlessly, Gerard kept walking, adjusting the strap of his bag on his free shoulder. Jules persisted.
"Mr. Bronson's gonna kill me, Gerard" he pleaded, "Just don't go now."
But Jules's words didn't seem to stir Gerard out of his reverie. He was tired, and bored. He has been irritated with his job ever since. As he walked away from Jules, he felt the uncontrollable urge to punch something, or hurt someone...
Gerard was far away from home. It had been very difficult finding a job after graduation, but when he did find one it was in a small animation studio headed by a Mr. Bronson in Atlanta, Georgia. He yearned to see New Jersey. How far away he was from home. He knew his mother couldn't like to see him, because he had quit his job. Donna wouldn't like it at all.
Maybe he shouldn't go home yet. Maybe...
He unzipped his bag and reached out for the drawing he had stuffed in there earlier. He straightened the creases as he peered down at his own drawing of a small cartoon monkey with a bright pink beret.
Hello. I'm sorry it's short. But I wanted first to know the reaction to this story before I could go on.