My acting is as trash as dog shit. No director was willing to hire me, so I had to pay out of my own pocket just to get a role. Juggling acting and side hustles, I was constantly operating at a loss. Until my agent booked me a reality TV show. The original plan was just for me to show my face and build a little presence. I never expected that I would instantly blow up on the trending charts. None of the celebrity guests on the show knew how to cook. I raised my hand and said: "I know a little bit about cooking." So, using whatever ingredients were on hand, I whipped up an eight-course feast. The sweetheart ingenue's makeup melted off. I raised my hand and said: "I know a little bit about makeup." After I worked my magic, she was so thrilled she wanted to hire me as her personal makeup artist. In the middle of the night, a water pipe burst in the house the production team provided. I raised my hand and said: "I know a little bit about plumbing." That very night, I skyrocketed to the top of the trending charts. The top comment read: Of the 360 trades in the world, sister, why don't you just pick a different one?! 1 Other actors get paid to work. I had to pay to get acting gigs. This all started with my very first audition. I was auditioning for the role of a blind person. My performance was so breathtakingly realistic that it scared the director out of his chair. He personally escorted me out on the spot: "Ma'am, I asked you to play a blind person, not a zombie from The Walking Dead!" From that day on, my reputation preceded me. Within a hundred-mile radius of Hollywood, not a single casting director dared to hire me. My agent deeply regretted her choices, particularly the choice to sign me so early. But, out of professional obligation, she still tried her best to get me work. Even though they were all just extra roles and bit parts. As a result, my reputation only grew. When I played a corpse, I actually fell asleep, and when I was supposed to have a post-mortem twitch, I didn't move a muscle. The director almost had a heart attack from stress. When I played a background maid, my voice was louder than the lead actress's. When I played a lackey, I tripped the female lead while trying to walk menacingly. Not only did I lose the role, but I had to fork over my entire month's salary to cover the medical bills and ruined costumes. Given all of the above, I truly couldn't get a single role anymore. Left with no other options, I had to get creative. Not only did I work for free, but I actively paid money to get cast. For a single bit part with three lines, I had to network through eighteen different connections. I even had to bribe the casting director's dog with premium organic dog treats. This went on for three years. I was still stuck at square one. My acting was still garbage, and I was still only booking tiny extra roles. Even the savings I had built up from working odd jobs before entering the industry were almost gone. With no other choice, I had to pick up side hustles between acting gigs just to survive. In my spare time, I did DoorDash deliveries. The only problem was, occasionally, I'd accidentally deliver food to a set I was working on, which was a little awkward. But doing food delivery just didn't pay enough. So, I started looking into maintenance work. Things like being a locksmith or fixing toilets. Low stress, high pay. Or I'd go work as a line cook at restaurants that were too busy and needed an extra hand tossing the wok. Over the past three years, I juggled acting and odd jobs. Of the 360 recognized trades in the world, I've probably dabbled in every single one. 2 When my agent called me, I was in the middle of changing a lock cylinder for a young woman who lived alone. I had just popped the old cylinder out when my phone rang. My agent, Maggie's, voice sounded incredibly excited. "Stella, I got you a fantastic gig!" "It's a live-streamed reality show! It's packed with A-listers, and the buzz is already massive. You are going to ride some serious coattails on this one!" "To get you on this show, I literally begged every single connection I have. I bought three different producers dinner. I'm deducting all those expenses from your paycheck, by the way." What?! Deducting it from my paycheck? Wait a minute, do I even have a paycheck? I let out a bitter laugh. "Maggie, I've been operating at a loss for years. There's literally nothing left to deduct from me. Why don't you just dock my credit score instead?" However, my agent didn't share my pessimism. She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Listen, there are two massive pop idols, an Oscar-winning actress, and two 'sweetheart' ingenues. The drama and trending potential are going to be off the charts! Just standing in the background will get you more exposure than you've had in your entire life. Your popularity is going to skyrocket! You'll have so many scripts thrown at you, you won't even have time to read them all!" Hearing her say that, I started floating a little. If that happened, did that mean I could finally get some more significant roles? I'd settle for the evil step-sister! Or even the female lead's quirky best friend! Anything was better than my current status of only ever having three lines! So, I immediately promised: "Don't worry, Maggie! I will perform my heart out on this reality show. I will fight for every second of screen time and ride this wave to the top!" After finishing the lock installation for the young woman, I rushed home without stopping. I stayed up all night compiling dossiers on all the other guests on the show. I didn't realize until I looked them up, but the lineup was terrifying. They were all currently trending, highly talked-about celebrities. The kind of people who could sneeze and end up on the front page of TMZ. The day the production company announced the cast lineup, the post surpassed a million retweets in half an hour. I was absolutely dumbfounded. Looking at the comments underneath, it was even more spectacular. The top comments were entirely fan bases cheering for their idols. Obviously, none of them were cheering for me. The only few comments that mentioned me went something like this: "Who is that girl at the end? Stella? Never heard of her. Is she a regular civilian?" "The producers are getting creative, bringing in an average Joe." "Wow, I want to go! This Stella girl is so lucky." Meanwhile, I, Stella "The Civilian", was crying a river of tears in my heart. 3 The day of the reality show recording. To make a good impression on the crew, I arrived on set extremely early. I spent my time bringing coffee and kissing up to all the production staff. Not long after, the other guests began to arrive one by one. I practically tripped over myself rushing to help them carry their luggage. Mainly to steal some screen time. And to build up some goodwill. The live-stream comments noted: [This civilian girl really knows how to play the networking game.] Of course I do! I've spent the last three years in the industry doing nothing but networking! Just as I was helping the 'sweetheart' ingenue, Daisy, lift her suitcase, the Oscar-winning actress next to her, Serena, suddenly let out a shriek. "Ah! My zipper is broken!" Serena had brought a simple duffel bag today to save hassle, but the zipper had derailed after only two pulls. She frustratedly ran a hand through her hair. "I wonder if there's a tailor or repair shop nearby." I gently set Daisy's suitcase on the ground. Dusting off my hands, I walked over to Serena. "Let me take a look." The three people gathered around automatically stepped aside to give me room. Serena frowned. "You know how to fix zippers?" I picked up the bag, inspected it carefully, and confirmed it was a minor issue. I turned back and replied, "I know a little bit about it. Do you mind if I use my teeth?" After getting a bewildered but affirmative nod from Serena, I clamped my teeth down on the zipper track until I bit open a large enough gap on the derailed side. Then, I fed the bottom teeth of the zipper back into the slider. Once I confirmed it was pulled all the way to the bottom, I bit down again, clamping the gap I had just created firmly shut. After finishing, I zipped the bag up and down a few times to ensure it was smooth, then handed it back to Serena. "All done." Serena took the bag, looking completely incredulous. "That's it?" I waved my hand casually. "Minor issue." Except it was a little hard on the molars. The live stream went wild: [Learned something new today.] [Looks like the civilian they hired is actually a seamstress.] [It's alright, isn't that just a basic life hack?] [Civilian Stella actually has some skills.] [Civilian sister, I'm a little worried about your dental health.] Thank you. My teeth are feeling a little breezy right now. 4 The room assignments were sorted out. I was sharing a room with the sweetheart, Daisy. The Oscar winner, Serena, had her own room. The two pop idols were sharing a room. By the time we unpacked, it was already high noon. Unsurprisingly, everyone's stomachs were growling. Naturally, ordering Uber Eats was strictly forbidden. According to the rules of the show, we had to use the ingredients provided on-site, and we had to prepare a total of eight dishes. I took inventory of the vegetables on the counter. Eggs, eggplant, cabbage, pork belly... Okay, making eight dishes wouldn't be a problem. So, I looked excitedly at the others. "Let's each make one dish! What does everyone know how to cook?" Daisy was the first to raise her hand. "I know how to make boiled eggs." Girl, I don't think that counts as a dish. The comments: [Aww~ Our Daisy is so cute~] Serena also raised her hand. "I know how to make steamed eggs." Sister, I don't think that counts as a dish either. The comments: [Wow~ Our Serena is so amazing~] Next to them, the pop idol, Mason, raised his hand: "I know how to make scrambled eggs." I was sweating profusely. Why is everyone obsessed with eggs?! Holding onto a final shred of hope, I asked, "Does anyone here know how to actually cook a meal?" The group nodded in perfect, silent unison. No. I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on. We were out of time. If we didn't cook soon, everyone was going to starve and turn into actual zombies. I took a deep breath and started issuing commands. "Serena, help me chop the eggplant. Daisy, julienne the potatoes. You two handsome guys, prep the cabbage leaves and dice the pork belly..." Once everyone had chopped and washed all the ingredients, I smoothly fired up the stove and started cooking. High heat, aggressive stir-frying, occasional wok-tossing. So skilled it was almost heartbreaking. The others watched, completely dumbfounded. "Stella, you actually know how to cook like a chef?!" I offered a modest smile. "I know a little bit about culinary arts." The comments: [Those wok tosses do not look amateur.] [I bet the civilian sister's real job is a chef!] [The guy above me, the answer is already on the board and you're still guessing.] After a grueling forty minutes, the final dish was brought to the table. It was a full-blown feast, a perfect balance of meat and vegetables. Braised pork ribs, spicy chicken stew, chili pork stir-fry, tomato and egg stir-fry, braised eggplant, hot and sour shredded potatoes, braised pork belly, and a steamed egg custard. Eight dishes. Absolute perfection. Everyone couldn't stop praising the food as they ate. "Stella, you're amazing! This is so delicious!" Of course it is. If it tasted bad, they docked my pay. "You're literally at the level of an executive chef." Because I am a professional. Back when I was slinging woks at the restaurant, I could crack an egg with one hand. My cooking was so good it brought in a ton of repeat customers for the owner. 5 Everyone was eating, drinking, laughing, and chatting. Only Daisy, sitting next to me, seemed down. She kept checking herself in a compact mirror. I put a piece of braised pork belly into her bowl. "Daisy, why aren't you eating?" Daisy pulled a long face. "My makeup is ruined." While I was cooking earlier, Daisy had been my dedicated sous-chef, constantly running back and forth handing me things. After being smoked out by the grease and cooking fumes for half an hour, her makeup had completely melted off. Even though she had a great natural base and didn't look bad, she definitely wasn't looking her best. The comments were filled with sympathy: [Aww, our poor Daisy. She doesn't know how to do anything, but she was helping out the whole time, and she didn't even have time to touch up her makeup.] [Oh no. Daisy cares about her appearance more than anything. She probably doesn't even want to look up at the camera.] [This show doesn't allow outside assistants. I wonder if Daisy even brought her makeup bag.] I asked, "Daisy, did you bring any makeup with you?" Daisy pulled a cushion puff and a lip tint out of her pocket. "I left in such a hurry, I only brought these two." I nodded. "That's enough. That's plenty." Daisy looked completely lost. "Huh?" Five minutes later, Daisy was staring at herself in the mirror, absolutely thrilled. "Stella, you're incredible! How did you achieve a full-face makeup look using only a puff and a lip tint?!" I smiled and replied, "I used the puff to heavily set the center of your face, which creates a highlighting effect. Then I used the lip tint for blush and to lower the outer corner of your eyes. But the main reason it looks so good is because you have a great base to work with. Otherwise, even the most skilled hands couldn't paint a masterpiece." Back in the day, to make extra cash, I ran around to countless different gig locations. At my peak, I did makeup for 58 people in a single day. They called me the "Hustling MUA." Daisy was floating on air from the compliment. "Stella, why don't you come be my personal makeup artist? The pay is highly lucrative!" It sounded incredibly tempting, but I still waved my hand. "I just know a little bit about it. I still have my main career." Even though my main career lost me money, I truly loved it. The live comments exploded: [To the person guessing chef earlier, still wanna bet? I'm guessing Civilian Stella's job is a makeup artist.] [Are you stupid? Didn't she just say she has a main career? She's not a makeup artist!] [Seeing how skilled she is, it really doesn't look amateur. What the hell does she actually do?!] That night, the hashtag "What Exactly is Stella's Job?" skyrocketed to the top of the trending charts. 6 That evening, we all went back to our respective rooms. I was lying in bed scrolling on my phone, and the second I saw the trending hashtag with my name on it, I sat bolt upright. I rubbed my eyes. Holy monkey, am I seeing things?! I, Stella, actually made it onto the trending charts?! I was ecstatic. I was losing my mind. Everyone must have been blown away by my charm today. After all, a gorgeous girl who can cook, carry luggage, and is a master of social networking? Who wouldn't love that? Let's see how everyone is praising me. I happily clicked on the hashtag. A massive headline immediately caught my eye: What Exactly is Stella's Job? My smile froze on my face. What is my job? I've been acting for three years, and you're asking me what my job is?! Okay, fine, I admit it. The dramas I've been in are all super niche indie stuff, or I was just an extra. It's understandable if people don't know. But wasn't it written right there in the guest introductions below the show's description?! Stella, Actress! Is that not clear enough?! I frantically clicked on the official cast introductions for our reality show. Stella, Civilian. Me: "?" Don't mess with me. Wait, when the show first premiered, I explicitly remember it saying "Actress"! I planned to demand an explanation from the producers tomorrow. However, by the next day, I had completely forgotten about it. Because today's challenge was brutal. Setting up a street stall. Everyone had to choose a street vending stall they liked and sell products. As long as a customer approached, we had to serve them, and we would be graded on our performance. The two handsome pop idols chose the easiest option: grilling hot dogs. Serena chose something slightly easier: applying phone screen protectors. The only thing left was the slightly more difficult option: making street crepes. Everyone looked at me. "Stella, we're counting on you." I rubbed my forehead and forced a bitter smile. Street crepes. I actually did know a little bit about that. 7 I was planning to show off my skills. But after waiting for half an hour, not a single customer showed up. Bored out of my mind, I looked around. Figuring I'd go steal some screen time at the other stalls, my eyes landed on Serena's booth. A young woman was standing in front of the stall, looking quite unhappy. She kept rushing Serena: "Are you done yet? I've been waiting for almost twenty minutes." Serena was sweating profusely from nervousness. "I'm so sorry, this is my first time applying a tempered glass protector. I'll be done in just a second." I walked over. "Serena, what's wrong?" The customer spoke up: "I just need a screen protector applied. She's gone through five or six of them and still can't get it right. I'm in a rush." I took the phone from Serena and whispered, "Serena, you grabbed the wrong model size. Let me handle it." Serena sighed helplessly: "I've been looking through this pile of protectors for half an hour, I can't find the exact model match." I carefully inspected the pile. Indeed, there wasn't an exact model match. But phone screens are mostly similar; there should be another model that fits well enough. I rummaged through the pile and finally found one. The old, cracked screen protector hadn't even been removed from the customer's phone yet. Serena probably thought the new one was supposed to be applied directly over it. I picked at the corner of the phone screen, slowly and carefully lifting it up until the old protector separated from the screen. Then, I peeled the entire sheet of cracked glass off. I tossed the broken protector into the trash can. I pulled out an alcohol prep pad and meticulously began wiping the phone screen. The comments: [Stella knows how to apply screen protectors too?!] [She looks so focused, it doesn't look like she's faking it.] [So Stella's actual job is running a phone repair kiosk?] [Highly likely. An amateur wouldn't have that much patience.] I wiped the screen until there wasn't a single speck of dust or fine hair left. Then, I slowly peeled back one corner of the new tempered glass protector, pulled the backing off halfway, and carefully aligned it with the phone screen. I gently lowered it, smoothly pulling the rest of the backing off, waiting for the glass protector to slowly adhere to the screen. Once everything was done, the three of us let out a long sigh of relief. The live stream comments also let out a sigh of relief: [Phew, it's finally applied. We four are amazing.] [No wonder I can never apply screen protectors right. Turns out I just don't have enough patience.] [Case closed. Stella is absolutely a phone kiosk worker. If she's not, I swear I'll eat a shoe on live stream.] [The guy above me is getting bold with these bets.] After sending the customer off, Serena looked at me, her eyes filled with amazement. "I never expected you to know how to apply screen protectors too." I waved my hand casually. "I know a little bit about it. I'm used to applying them for myself." In reality, there was a period of time where I constantly set up a stall under an overpass selling phone cases. Naturally, I had to apply screen protectors too. Because of my absolute patience, rigorous attention to detail, and excellent technique, I attracted a massive crowd. At my absolute peak, I applied 140 tempered glass screen protectors in a single day. My hands were practically smoking by the end of it.