Dice Pryce, the self-proclaimed "star who simply hasn't been given the opportunity to shine," was a man of diminutive stature and even lesser status. There was a time when his novelty gave him some headway in the mad race to success, but that quickly faded as more talented individuals of his ilk appeared. Dice nowadays lives in a state of disrepair, barely able to afford the necessities of life. He is desperate for any small gig, and can usually be found scouring the streets for restaurants, bars, and any establishment that desires some ambiance.
Today would have been no exception, but Dice was tired of it. Every day, he spent a quarter of the day traversing the city, and no matter what part of the city he was in, it was filthy. Perhaps it was not so filthy to someone of larger size, but it was definitely filthy to Dice, who was forced to crawl through grimy, disregarded nooks and crannies to avoid being squashed.
Dice watched the day go by him; he just couldn’t mentally pull himself together anymore. He had no fame, not enough income to pay an assistant to take him wherever, not enough in his bank to eat daily, he couldn’t even financially risk washing down his sorrows with a beer every blue moon. Whether he wanted it or not, the realization of his own limitations finally hit him: a tiny man in a big city can only go so far.
However, for those who have gone far in the music business, it was to be a rather special night. The Grammy Awards were being held around where Dice lived, and the commotion was deafening. Dice had chosen to live near the arena to motivate himself, but year after year, all that decision served to do was to annoy him. At his wits’ end and full of rage, he left his small apartment, which was embedded into the brick wall of a much larger building, and followed the noise.
Lexi Thorn fidgeted excitedly in her personal limousine as it pulled up to the event. She could see people looking in her direction, their cameras poised and ready, even though all they could see was a tinted window. She found their behavior a bit too abrasive, but she didn't mind that much. After all, she wasn't just there to win another award; she was also there to show off her outfit and promote her designer. The outfit was truly eccentric and had never been seen before, which made her all the more eager to reveal it. "Well, boys, it’s showtime," she said as she exited the vehicle.
The flashing lights of cameras and the typical jargon of reporters immediately overwhelmed Lexi's senses. Regardless, she smiled and posed. Her smooth, ghostly gray dress, diaphanous as it was, left much to the imagination. More upfront, however, was the thin layer of gold chains over the dress, which, like a golden web, held prisoner in a style of risqué bondage.
Indeed, Lexi had tiny people adorning parts of her glamorous outfit, and the crowds on either side were astonished by the sight. Her jewelry was no exception. She wore earrings with tiny men dangling by their bound hands, and a necklace that went all the way down to her cleavage; she even posed with her hands clasped over her abdomen and her shoulders pushed tightly to ensure someone got a picture of her smothering the guy attached to her necklace.
Lexi happily told reporters that her outfit was called "The Panopticon." She also clarified that the "prisoners" were all simply hired models and that her main goal with the project was to promote diversity. She added this information carelessly, without seeming to understand the potential negative connotations or misconstruction of her words. However, what are a few disgruntled individuals to someone of her stature but mere blips on the radar.
Dice watched from the base of one of the stanchions, his eyes blazing with fury. He saw this as nothing more than an absurd display of power over his ilk. It was his own who had ruined his novelty, but regardless he would not sit idly by and allow this clear discrimination to continue.
In a state of hysteria, he ran into the middle of the red carpet, jumping up and down and waving his hands erratically, hoping that someone would see his call for attention. His outburst would not last long, not because anyone saw him, but because as soon as Lexi finished feeding the reporters, she continued on her way. The incoming celebrity, a complete skyscraper of gray and gold with prisoners jangling against her jewelry, was enough to snap Dice out of his rage.
It was too late. All Dice had time to do was desperately call out for help and run in zig-zags in an attempt to dodge the high heel. But it seemed to track him down with pinpoint accuracy. He could do nothing but leap forward as it came crashing down. Dice was caught under and smeared against the carpet immediately after the next step. His fate was sealed as soon as Lexi spotted him. Although her eyes were being bombarded with light, when she saw a tiny black speck moving across the carpet, she was ready to crush it without any mercy. Further demonstrating her ignorance of the tiny community, the thought that it could be anything other than an insect simply did not cross her mind. Whatever was in her path was simply asking to be squashed.
Dice was now nothing but a red stain lost among the red fibers of the carpet. Maybe, looking for photos of the event or in the news footage, one could spot an image of Dice captured before his last moments alive, even if just a pixel on the screen. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like that will happen. No one has yet to find out anything about his disappearance, so for the years to come, he is nothing but a statistic.