It was a clear day.
Michael loved days like this, where the sun burned like hellfire and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. Warm summers. They were his favorite.
“Mr. Davidson, are you listening?”
Someone in the room sighed and he instantly knew who it was. Marcus Kilman, his manager. Probably pinching his nose in frustration and shaking his head as he prepared himself for the oncoming lecture he was about to give.
“Mr. Davidson?” The person who called him was hesitant, clearly not knowing what to do or how to approach his lack of response. With his back turned to them, they couldn’t see his expression, couldn’t tell if he was really listening to them or not.
“Michael,” Marcus said tightly, obviously trying his best to hold in his irritation. If he wasn’t in front of company, there was no telling what he would have said instead. He would probably tapped into his unlimited reserve of swear words. “Would you please try to focus on the meeting at hand?”
“It’s a beautiful day, don’t you think?” Michael swiveled in his chair, facing the two men who wore distinct faces. His manager, Marcus, scowled at him from his side of the table, angry veins already popping up on his bald head. The man opposite Marcus glanced back and forth between Michael and Marcus, not exactly knowing what to say.
Michael smiled, turning to look behind him at the sky again. The window behind him gave him a perfect view of the cloudless sky. “I love when there aren’t any clouds in the sky. I think makes the day more beautiful, don’t you think?”
“I, uh,” the man glanced at Marcus for help, who just shrugged in defeat. “I, uh, actually prefer a cloudy day, Mr. Davidson.”
“Michael, please. And, do you?” Michael leaned over the table, eyes filled with fascination. “Wonderful! Tell me, what do you like about it?”
“It, um, shields me from the sun. I don’t really like the sun that much.”
“Ah, you see, that’s where I disagree with you, young sir. Jorge, was it? I like when the sky is laid bare like this. It feels more open, more welcoming. More…” Michael snapped his fingers, trying to recall a word.
Jorge leaned forward expectantly. “Picturesque?”
“I was going to say free but, hey, that could work too. Picturesque, like a painting. Do you like art, Jorge?”
“Not any less than the average guy,” he responded.
“Hm, is that so?” Michael placed a finger on his chin, thinking. “And what would you say is the average liking for art. Would say it’s—”
“Michael,” Marcus hissed. “Why don’t we get back on track. We’re still in a meeting, remember?”
“Oh, yes, yes! What were you saying, Jorge? Something about a tour?”
“Uh, that’s right.” Thrown by the too sudden switches in conversation, Jorge adjusted the glasses on his nose to see the report he had in his hands. “To debut your new pieces.”
“A beautiful idea! Marvelous! Spectacular! When do we start?”
Marcus groaned again. “I’m assuming that by your response, you’re on board with the idea?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? It sounds a marvelous idea, to be able to travel the world, showcasing my music. I couldn’t think of a better dream come true.”
“You’ve already been on four tours, Michael,” Marcus said wearily. “This isn’t anything new.”
“Every opportunity should be treated like a new day. Filled with passion and fervor to take on such a blessing.”
Marcus sighed, facing Jorge. “My apologies. I would say he isn’t always like this but, that would be a lie. If this is going to work out, you’re going to have to get used to it.”
Jorge chuckled, though it was a little more nervous than Michael doubted he expected it to sound. “Anything to have the great Michael Davidson as our new client. I would hate to tamper with such a… creative soul in any way.”
“Oh, you flatter too much, good man.” Michael waved his hand lazily, facing the window again. “I’m just as creative as the next fellow. But, yes, let’s do this.”
“Maybe we should talk about it a bit more.”
“What’s there to talk about? You asked if I wanted to go on tour and my response was yes. Just tell me when the flight is.”
“Well, it was just an idea. We still need to work out the tour dates and locations with you.”
“I’m sure Marcus would be more than willing to sort through those details with you, Jorge. Wouldn’t you, Marcus?”
Marcus only gave him a discreet low gesture. Michael struggled to hold back the laugh. Marcus rolled his eyes, facing the bewildered Jorge. “Apologies for Michael’s reaction, Jorge. He still hasn’t gotten rid of his childish ways as yet. If you’d like, I’m more than willing to set up another meeting so we can discuss the details.”
“Oh, Marcus, you wound me. Why must you apologize when I’ve done nothing wrong?”
Marcus ignored him. He got to his feet, extending his hand to Jorge who wasn’t sure whether or not to stand with him. Finally, he got to his feet as well, grasping Marcus’ hand. “Thanks for having us, Jorge. We’’ll be in touch.”
“Y-yes, no problem.”
Michael rose. He smiled at Jorge, resisting the urge to laugh at the befuddled look on the man’s face. He caught his hand in a handshake, then pulled him for a spur of the moment hug. “It’ll be a honor to work with you, Jorge. May the gods shine favor upon you.”
“Y-you too.”
Michael flashed him a grin before strolling out the room, an annoyed Marcus trailing out behind him.
“May the gods shine favor upon you?” Marcus murmured to him as they made their way to the elevator. Michael didn’t have to turn around to know that Jorge was staring after them. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Michael said innocently. They stepped into the elevator and when his eyes met with Jorge’s again, from the distance, he gave him a deep bow just as the door closed before him.
Michael straightened, loosening his tie with a grin. “God, that’s fun.”
“You shouldn’t make it a habit of confusing potential business partners like that, you know,” Marcus said.
Michael didn’t even look at him. He could see his disapproving glare well enough in his head. He faced the elevator mirror, slicking his perfect hair back into place. “Oh, come on, Marcus. No harm, no foul, right? I was only making the meeting a bit more fun. You two were boring the hell out of me.”
“Which is why I suggested that you shouldn’t come in the first place.”
“Not attend a meeting that’s centered around me? Marcus, you don’t think very highly of me, do you?”
“You confused the hell out of that man and will force us to have another meeting,” Marcus gave him a deadpan look as they exited the hallway. Michael smiled at the receptionist, winking at her when she blushed furiously. They didn’t exchange any more words until they were back in the car.
“I got bored, Marcus,” Michael explained. “Do you really blame me? Playing the over-eccentric composer is too much fun. Did you see his face? God, it was priceless.”
But Marcus wasn’t laughing. “Did you get anything from that meeting at all?”
“We’re going on tour.”
“Do you really want to? Or did you get a little too into playing your role?”
“What? You don’t think I should do it?”
“I know that whatever I think won’t hold much weight when you’ve already made up your mind.” He started the car, but didn’t take off just yet. “Have you made up your mind?”
Michael thought about it for a moment. “What else am I doing with my time?” he said after a few seconds. “A tour… it doesn’t sound very bad.”
“You used to hate tours. Hence why I’m so confused by your ready acceptance.”
Michael only shrugged. “I’m bored.”
Marcus grunted at that but didn’t say anything else. What he said was right. He used to hate tours. He loved traveling, loved performing his art, but he didn’t like the work behind it. The stress, the strictness he was forced to adhere to. Michael didn’t deal well with stress, nor did he particularly like the idea of not being able to get up and go on an adventure whenever he deemed fit.
But he wasn’t stupid. To keep his name, to keeps his fame, he needed to let the world remember him. His new pieces had his entire soul poured into them, his entire being. He had never put so much of himself into his work before and it was his biggest wish right now to share that with every corner of the world.
A tour, that would be the best way of doing it. That was the best way of sharing his art.
He settled in, allowing the silence to fall comfortably over them. He would have to get used to the idea—but the thought wasn’t as repulsive as he expected it to be.
Perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad.
Something different. A change of pace.