In 2017, Mason enrolled at Drexel University, unsure of what he was meant to do. He spent countless nights wondering, facing a world that demanded certainty, when all he had were questions. After much internal struggle, he settled on animation and visual effects.
It wasn't a sudden decision—he'd always loved video games and movies, and the hours he spent making skate videos with friends had sparked an interest in editing. He had dabbled in 3D animation in high school, discovered a knack for it, and hoped this would be the clarity he needed.
In college, Mason's passion bloomed. He was enthralled by the process of blending computer-generated sequences with live-action footage, creating worlds that defied the constraints of reality. For the first time, he thought he understood his purpose.
If he could break into a major Hollywood studio, create visual effects for blockbuster films, he'd finally be someone—someone his parents would be proud of. The dream felt solid, even though he couldn't shake the feeling that it was all a gamble.
But this was it; this was his shot.
So, Mason threw everything into it. He meticulously planned his schedule, squeezing every ounce of time into his courses and personal development.
He learned new software, optimized his workflow, and took every opportunity to grow, never stopping to question if it was enough. By his junior year, he was laser-focused on asset and texture creation, honing the skills needed to bring pre-production concepts to life through intricate 3D models.
It seemed like the path was laid out before him, his future unfolding step by step.
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But the world doesn't hand you success on a silver platter. After graduating, Mason learned this the hard way. The job market was brutal, and no amount of effort could change the fact that he had no professional experience to speak of. Worse, the technology around visual effects was evolving faster than he could keep up.
When he started his degree, the industry was booming, but by the time he graduated, fewer jobs existed in the areas he had focused on.
To make matters worse, a global pandemic tore through the world, halting industries and drastically reducing opportunities, including those in film production.
Months of relentless searching finally led to a small break—a job as a runner at a post-production studio in California. It wasn't what he wanted, far from it. But it was a start, and Mason knew he had to prove himself. Every day, he buried his head in the work, pushing harder and harder. Long hours, weekends, no time for himself.
Friends and family became distant memories; hobbies and interests faded away.
Romance was a luxury he couldn't afford. He poured everything into his job, hoping it would pay off, hoping it would get him closer to that elusive dream.
By 2027, Mason had climbed the ladder a few rungs. He had proven his worth, taking on more responsibilities, and for the first time, he could see a sliver of light.
His resume was finally taking shape. He wasn't there yet, but he could almost taste the bigger opportunity. A major Hollywood studio seemed within reach. But the world doesn't care about your dreams.
The same year, he was laid off. Mason sat across from his manager, his heart sinking as he listened to the words that shattered everything.
"I'm sorry, Mason. You've been a great asset to the company, but we just can't afford to keep you. We have to adapt to changing technology. I hope you understand."
His hands trembled. His mind went blank. The company he had poured everything into, the very thing that had consumed his life, was letting him go. "Yeah, I understand," he muttered, the words tasting like ash.