DEVLIN
“Let’s get this over with.” I slammed the door into Andy-Dick’s office.
As soon as this was finished, I was going home. She’d taken everything from me. She’d taken my music and my pride. I’d given her everything.
“Ah, Maestro. Have a seat,” Andy said.
“Just fire me. I’m not sitting down for that,” I said.
My palms itched. My stomach was twisted with anxious energy. I hated being in this position. Why I’d ever thought coming back to this place was a good idea, I would never know.
“Please. Sit.”
There was nothing left in me to care about this place or any other place. Screw this town. Screw the SOOK. I could move on.
But could I? I had burned every bridge I’d ever built. Coming to the SOOK was supposed to be the easiest thing I ever did for my career. I couldn’t even make it work. I really was a loser. Had it ever really been about the SOOK, or had it been about Kim?
“It’s an interesting thing that happened,” Dick said. “You were on thin ice, but in the interest of full disclosure, the drama between you and Miss Day has been great for our sales.”
“Tickets sales are up. Google searches. Instagram, hashtags. I don’t really get it, but our PR intern tells us these are all good things,” Andy finished.
“Great.” I was so thrilled that the pain that crippled my chest was entertainment.
“Gossip sells tickets. Now, I obviously don’t want to run a business on sensationalism, but right now, leaving wouldn’t be the wisest thing to do,” Dick said.
“And we don’t want it to look like we are condoning this sort of behavior. There would have to be a probational period. A slap on the hand. A few weeks off to cool down a little, after the Fourth of July show, of course. But we still have the September showcase.” Andy pointed to a calendar hanging on the wall.
“I’m not fired?” I asked not believing.
“You are absolutely fired. Unless …”
Dick said, “We still need tickets sold. Something else interesting has been brought to our attention.”
“Turns out you’re a bit of a celebrity. Not sure why you would hide such a past from us. That’s fantastic!” Andy said.
“Perhaps we can come to an arrangement for the September showcase. In addition to your Smokey Mountain Suite, we’ll advertise your famous background. You could play your most famous song, Don’t Look Back,” Dick said.
“A rock concert and a concerto in one.” The other smiled broadly at his own idea.
“I will conduct for the Fourth of July concert. I won’t leave the community hanging like that, but you’re out of your minds if you think I’ll …” I reached for the door. The last thing I would ever do was bring that life into this one. Not a chance in hell I’d play that garbage song. It was bad enough I was even back here.
“Of course we’ll continue the Fourth of July as planned,” Andy simpered.
“The choice is yours for September,” Dick said.
“Take a couple weeks to think about it. It’s summer break anyway. You have the choice. You can come back or you can ruin your career.”
“Great options,” I mumbled. “You know what? Consider my fist to Chagny’s face my official resignation.”