To Be an Actor

by Awkward Ampharos

Rating: mature
Tags: Big Macintosh, Gore, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Human, Original Character, Science Fiction
Length: 3215

Autumn catches up with his best friend about what it’s been like since he got his dream acting job. It's perfect, except for one thing: male actors on the hit TV show "My Little Pony" have to go undergo a procedure before being allowed on camera.

Autumn catches up with his best friend about what it’s been like since he got his dream job. It really is perfect, except for one thing:
Because of cultural expectations, male actors on the hit TV show My Little Pony have to go through an intense surgery before they are allowed to be shown on camera. And the choice Autumn made to accept the role is wearing him down.

Rated M for frank discussion of genital mutilation

Published 2021-06-28 14:20:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-06-28 14:20:00 UTC

An Otherwise Dream Job

“Alright enough about my job. I bet you’ve experienced enough of that café to last you a lifetime. How are you doing!? How’s life?”

At the words, Autumn freezed up. He had expected this question, had been meandering around the conversation. He was a good actor. Why was he fumbling his lines?

He chanced a glance downward, he was lying on his stomach on one of the cushions of the three seater couch. There was a game board in between him and Navy Sky. Navy’s wife was in the back room of the apartment ferociously strumming a guitar.

His eyes glanced back at the game board, he still hadn’t picked up his tiles to start his turn. He quickly drew two more tiles and added one to the growing fractal of tiles on the short brown table.

“Yo, is something is bothering you? You know you don’t have to hide it.” Navy passed two new tiles from the draw pile to his hand.

“I… I can’t. I… this is my problem to bear,” said Autumn, eyeing the game board.

“Screw that. We are best friends, we can talk about whatever,” said Navy, sliding a three tile combo onto the board.

“You don’t need my problems in your life,” muttered Autumn, drawing his tiles.

“I want you in my life. And that includes your problems. You’re my best friend. We’ve been through some awful stuff even just including working at that café. Just tell me.”

Autumn sat there quietly. There wasn’t any moves he could make. “End Turn.”

“Do I need to tell you more of my big secrets to get you to talk about yours?” Navy drew two tiles and studied his hand.

“I thought I already knew all your secrets,” said Autumn.

“Yeah, that’s the problem," Navy shrugged and played down a tile. "So I’ll need to make some secrets up. Hmm… there was this one time in 3rd year when I stole this girl in front of me’s feathers so I could write on my homework.”

Autumn frowned as he drew for his tiles.

“It turns out that she could absolutely feel the feathers on her wings getting plucked. I was honestly pretty surprised,” Navy Sky scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “And I still feel really bad about it.”

“I think I have heard that story before,” said Autumn, playing out five tiles in large chain combo.

“No way! I’ll have to come up with some other story. Umm… I’m gay!“

 “You are literally the straightest person I’ve ever met.”

“But I fooled you at least for a moment there, right?”

 "You sure did," muttered Autumn.

The guitar continued to strum in the back room.

“Okay, man. You don’t have to tell your secrets if you don't wanna. Sorry for bugging you about it. Just know you can talk to me, okay?” said Navy Sky.

“Yeah, I know,” said Autumn. He peered out the window and down floors below to the street. A few leaves drifted aimlessly on the sidewalk. “Who’s turn is it?”

“Oh it’s mine,” said Navy, drawing two tiles. “Turn end.”

They played a few more turns, the board growing larger and more intricate.

“The uhh… café’s doing fine without you if that was bothering you. It probably wasn’t,” Navy gave a slight chuckle. “It sounds like things are going well for you at work.”

Autumn perked up. “Work is amazing! It really is a dream job. I’m acting, Navy! I’m finally acting. I have never felt so fulfilled to finally be doing what I’ve wanted my whole life. I mean—you know what they say about dream jobs? Well, okay, this isn’t exactly a ‘dream’ job as I think my ‘dream’ acting job would involve more than just saying ‘Eeeyup’ once every few episodes. And my voice wouldn’t be dubbed over by another actor after the fact. But this is absolutely an amazing first step to everything I’ve ever wanted.” He clinked the last of a long 7-tile chain and won the game.

Navy beamed, and they both without thinking turned over the tiles and started shuffling for another game. “Well most of that sounds incredible!”

“Like, in the lore of the show, all the uhh… ‘ponies’ err… characters get tattoos that represent their special talent. Like their meaning of life or whatever. If I wasn’t banned from getting tattoos while under contract I would absolutely get some acting cutie mark. Because that’s how floaty I feel. I’m where I belong, and it’s amazing!”

“You can’t get tattoos?” asked Navy, setting down the first piece.

“Naw,” said Autumn, drawing his initial hand of tiles. “It’s apparently a pain for makeup to cover them up every episode. I have a lot more freedom once the show ends and my contract runs out. I can get a tattoo if I want to then.”

“Oh,” said Navy, playing one tile on the board.

“I just wish there weren’t other things I can never do again.” Autumn’s eyes blazed for a moment. He tried to wipe them as if tears were going to well up, but no tears had actually come.

Navy looked up from the board. “What can’t you do anymore?”

Autumn breathed in and out, “Umm… turn end.”

Navy drew two tiles and played one.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with me and my drama,” said Autumn, drawing two tiles. “Turn end.”

“Are you kidding? I signed up for drama the moment I became best friends with you. You’ve been trying to break into acting for what, like, six years? I’ve heard all the drama from every audition. You can tell me.”

Autumn was silent for a time. “You can keep this a secret, right? And I mean, really a secret. They won’t fire me for telling you and only you. Close friends and family are okay. What happened is hard to hide from close people anyway. But this info can’t leak or I lose my job and all royalties in perpetuity.”

Navy sat back from the game board and looked at Autumn. “Yeeeesh. It’s just acting!? What—what kinda—”

“You can keep the secret?” he clinked down one tile.

“Yes, I can. Lips are sealed and everything,” he said.

“Thanks,” Autumn breathed out a sigh of relief. “Well… is it okay if I show you instead of tell you? I think it’ll be easier that way.”

“Of course,” said Navy.

Autumn shrugged and readjusted himself. He had been laying on his stomach, his genitals hidden from view on the couch. He raised himself up and sat on his behind so his sheath and scrotum were in full view.

“What’s…” asked Navy.

Autumn reached down and removed the prosthetic male genitals, leaving behind a nearly featureless groin, only a small slit for urination still remaining.

Navy’s eyes went wide. He set his hand down, not caring that his tiles were in full view.

Autumn set the prosthetic down next to him, they were a sad facsimile of what he had once cherished.

Navy stared at him, his eyes locked onto the almost vacant groin.

“I’ve been castrated. Not just my testicles, but my penis, my sheath, everything.”

“The… acting job required this?”

Autumn nodded.

“W—why!?”

“The show we’re working on—everyone is nude.”

“Well… that’s not a surprise there, everyone everywhere is nude all the time. It doesn’t explain…”

“The audience isn’t for Equus. It’s— it’s for this planet called Earth. The aliens on that planet—“

“Hold it! Aliens!? You have got to be kidding me.”

“Do you think I would get my manhood chopped off for fun?”

Navy’s ears flattened, “I, I’m sorry.”

 Autumn sighed before continuing. “Nudity isn’t the culture on the alien’s planet. The clothes they wear aren’t like the clothes here. We have scarves and jewelry and accessories. They wear things all over their body. They wear so many clothes there that basic anatomy like genitals are always hidden. There’s a bunch of cultural things about the aliens that I don’t know the details of. I’ve learned enough to know that they’re apparently really squeamish about genitals.”

“Why on Equus would they have a show like this with nude characters if genitals aren’t allowed!?”

“It’s a stylistic choice? Apparently. Look, it’s just the culture over there. Nudity is allowed, but not genitals.”

“How do those aliens reproduce if they are castrating their males!?”

“They don’t castrate their males, every alien wears clothes. They have coverings of all kinds so no one sees each others genitals.”

  “Why?”

 “Does it look like I’m an expert!? It’s a bizarre cultural thing. They are basically never nude in public and only in private do they take off clothes to urinate, defecate, bathe, or have sex. That’s what they do. I don’t understand it. It’s just… what happens.”

Navy sat there, stunned. The game board laid forgotten.

“And our species—Equestrians—we apparently look like an animal on their planet called a horse, or a pony? I dunno, there’s lots of names. They showed me a picture, but I don’t see the resemblance at all. Apparently we look similar enough to allow for broadcasting a television program. It’s freaky though, the horses on their planet—a good portion of the male animals that the aliens interact with—they’re castrated. Neuter the males, spay the females. They do that to their pets—to most of the animals they raise for food. A good portion of animals under their control that aren’t specifically meant for breeding do not get to keep their organs.”

Navy shuddered. “How do they even have animals if they—?”

“The aliens—the humans as their called—they’ve terraformed their entire planet so the only pockets of non-human territory that’s left is the kind they specifically choose not to develop. It’s something like 96% all mammals on their planet are either food for the humans or the humans themselves. At least I think that’s what the number was. It’s not a nice planet to be on unless you’re a human.”

“And they wanted to broadcast a TV show over to them!?” asked Navy. “They sound gruesome.”

“Most of the humans don’t know or don’t care what’s going on. Culture is weird like that. It’s invisible. Aside from a select few species or locations, most humans rarely interact with animals at all. It is unsettling that they see us at first glance as those animals they treat so poorly. And even more unsettling that this is how we’re trading.”

“Trading what?” asked Navy.

“They have incredible resources, scientific knowledge, even though we will never in thousands of years actually physically visit, our communication is working great. We can exchange information with them. Mathematics, physics, chemistry, medicine have all seen breakthroughs through their knowledge. And well… they like stories. They like TV shows. And we can trade stories for knowledge. But unfortunately those stories have to have their invisible cultural preferences be included. They are used to trading stories for scientific knowledge. They contacted us first. And we aren’t the first show from an alien planet that’s been broadcasted to them.”

Autumn sighed. “And that’s why I don’t have genitals anymore. I mean—they paid me well. Part of the knowledge we got from them is how to freeze sperm, I could still have children if I want to. It just won’t be directly as the result of sex.

“Apparently this show is incredibly popular over on their planet. Despite how small my part is, my salary's increased twentyfold since working at the café. But I’m hesitant to spend any of that money beyond the essentials I was living on before as it feels like I paid for all this with my own manhood.”

“Is… everyone castrated on that show?” asked Navy. “I mean, didn’t you say earlier you were working with Honey Star? She’s such a big name actress—she wouldn’t have—“

“Just the males have to go through a desexing procedure. Females are okay, makeup and flat prosthetics can more easily hide everything. But males? They apparently tried a ton of different binders of all kinds and everything ended up with a bulge that didn’t go over well with the aliens. No, the solution was that males have to have their external organs removed. And now I’m prepped so that I can go into makeup for an hour before shooting, and they cover me in such a way to the point where every hole down there is completely hidden. The aliens prefer the area completely bare, for both sexes. Just… I am jealous of how the women on the show can still…" he grimaced. "They still have everything once the makeup comes off.

Navy shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

“And it’s getting worse,” Autumn continued. “The aliens gave feedback on the first season. They absolutely loved it. But they didn’t like how few male characters there were, even in the background. So they’re hiring a lot more actors. There aren’t many speaking roles either, just crowd shots and… well… a lot more surgeries like this are happening.”

“But—I—you…” Navy struggled to put it into words. “You’ve been asexual as long as I’ve known you. Wouldn’t this not be too terrible compared to what you’re getting in return?”

Autumn sighed. “I don’t know, man. I don’t know. Yeah, I have my dream job. Yes, I was—I am asexual. But I’m not agender—if that’s even what this is called. And I’m certainly not whatever it is I am now.

Autumn clutched down, holding onto the organs that weren’t there. “It’s scary. At work I’m on top of the world. I’m doing so great. But when I get home, and I lie in bed and I try to touch my manhood and I don’t feel anything. I have this—” Autumn reached over and held up the prosthetic, “bizarre contraption instead. All it does is give me the outward appearance, but it’s not the same. It’s not me. I won’t ever be myself again.

“I don’t even know who I am anymore. Was I happier with my balls but working at that dead-end café? Or am I happier without my balls, without—without everything, but at least I get to act. At least I have money and I’m not going to be a starving artist anymore.

“I… the price was too high. It doesn’t matter how much I’m paid. How successful I am after this. Was it really worth being castrated? I’m happier now, except for that. And I feel bad about being happy that I’m finally creatively fulfilled. And then I feel bad that I’m finding a small flaw in an otherwise great life.”

“A small flaw!?” Navy interrupted. “You’re missing you’re manhood! What kind of nightmare organization do you work for!? You have every right to be depressed. You have every right to—“

“But I chose this though,” said Autumn. “I consented. I thought since I’m asexual it wouldn’t matter to me. That I’m getting so much more than I’m giving up. I chose this. Just because I regret it doesn’t change that I—“

“Yeah, I get that you chose this," said Navy. "I choose every day to get up and work at that awful café and drum in my wife’s band with what little free time I have. But I still complained to you all the time about work and how the customers and our boss treated us. You have been traumatized to hell and back, man.”

Autumn flinched, “Can you stop calling me man, I’m not that anymore.”

“You are a man, Autumn! You just don’t have those organs anymore. But you’re still a man as long as you choose to be.”

“But I didn’t choose to be a man. I lost my manhood. I chose to lose my manhood. It’s gone and it’s never coming back. Not even the aliens have tech that’ll perfectly regrow what I’ve lost. No, I’m not a man. I’m something else now and I hate it. This isn’t my body. It’s… a role.”

Navy stared at him.

“I’ve always been an actor. All those years I played pretend that I was an amazing server at work. How I changed personalities for each and every customer to maximize the tips I receive. I adjust. I change for the role. And my new role for the rest of my life requires me to be…” he held up the prosthetic to eye level and then shifted his eyes to his bare groin, “like this.”

“Every actor has to let the mask come off eventually,” said Navy. “You can’t be pretending all the time.”

“I’m good at it though. I’ve pretended my entire career. I’m so good at this!”

“Autumn, are you wearing a mask right now? Isn’t this how you truly feel?”

“I don’t even know anymore," said Autumn. "This could just be the: ‘I’m-interacting-with-Navy’ mask and I don’t even realize I’m putting it on.”

Navy breathed in and out. “I don’t think it’s a mask, Autumn. You’ve let your guard down to me for years. I’ve seen nearly every mask watching you work with customers, watching you with your family. This is the realest you that I’ve seen. And the realest you hates what’s happened.”

Autumn sighed. “So what then? I can’t do anything about it. I choose not to do anything about it. Yeah, I have a wonderful life. Yeah, there’s some unfortunate parts to it. But… well… I accept this.”

“Well I don’t," growled Navy. "I’m gonna—“

“Do nothing!" said Autumn. "You promised. If you say anything or leak anything to the press, I will lose what I sacrificed my manhood to gain. Don’t do that to me.”

Navy sat stunned. He looked back down at the board and shoved some tiles in a random spot. “I’ll do nothing, then” Navy frowned. “I mean—what am I supposed to do with an alien conspiracy?”

“It does sound pretty crazy. But I get to help improve Equus. Improve ourselves. We’re getting a lot of technology from them, medicine, surgical practices, ways of doing things more efficiently. The parts of their culture and art that don’t conflict with ours.”

Navy stared at him.

“Umm… is it my turn?” asked Autumn.

“Yeah,” said Navy.

Autumn drew two tiles and put down one tile haphazardly on the edge of the board.

“No, I’ll do something,” said Navy, not drawing his tiles. “And that something will be listening. I’m always here for you.” Navy’s mouth pursed together as if he were about to say “man,” but he stopped before saying it.

Autumn smiled faintly.

“And sometimes listening means just sitting here with you. Or playing games or whatever. I can do that too.”

“Thank you,” Autumn said. A weight felt like it had been lifted off his shoulders. It didn’t solve the problem. No amount of money or time would. But it helped in its own way. “I’m so glad that you’re my friend.”

“Yeah yeah…” Navy said. “I love you too, buddy.”

Autumn relaxed, playing a few tiles down.

“You should probably put your prosthetic back on before my wife comes in the living room for a glass of water or something.”

“Yeah, that would probably weird her out, huh?” said Autumn, clinking together a few tiles in quick succession on the board.

“Just a smidge,” Navy gave a weak grin.