This Is Destiny

I sit in the small radio studio with my three best friends and the DJ. She’s asking us each random questions like, what our favorite foods are or who the messiest band member is. I answer every once in a while, but I let Jack take the reins this time. I get lost in my own thoughts as I begin to wonder if the questions are ever going to stop. Once I hear my name, my head perks up and I start to listen again. “What was that?” I ask, not hearing a word at all of what she just asked me.

“What are your plans for the next album, lyrics wise?” What the fuck kind of question is that? I stop and ponder the question.

“I don’t know. I just recently broke up with my girlfriend. So, I'm sure there will probably be some sad songs,” I shrug and zone off into my own world. I know that’s not entirely what she was looking for, but oh well. As long as I’m talking, she’s happy. Right?

I get hit in the arm by Jack, signaling it’s time to go. I stand up and give the DJ a hug. What’s her name again? Before we leave, I turn around and wink at her, causing a bright shade of pink to form on her cheeks. I laugh to myself and leave the studio with the guys. I pull open the door to the rental car that was given to us and slide in the driver’s seat. “Where to next?” I ask as I start up the engine.

“We have a meeting with the label,” Rian says as he leans forward from the back seat. “Something about ideas for the next album.”

“Great,” I groan as I drive towards the Hopeless Records headquarters. You’d think Los Angeles wouldn’t be stressful, but when dealing with Hopeless, you want to tear your eyeballs out after the hundredth time they suggest something. The receptionist at the desk greets us with a smile. We pass through numerous doors before we actually get seated at a round table. We wait for the president of the label to meet with us. We’re provided with RockStar energy drinks and m&m’s. The combination confuses me, but I ignore it and shovel countless handfuls of chocolate into my mouth.

“Gentlemen,” a voice from the doorway says. We all look back and see Louis entering. He has a devilish grin on his face as he straightens his tie before sitting down. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Yeah, man. We’re always up to visit California!” Jack says, trying to break any sort of tension he thought we were feeling. He failed. I knew exactly what this guy wanted from us just by hearing his voice.

“Good, good. I called you guys here for a proposition.” I lean forward, trying to make myself sound interested in what this guy has to say. He looks at each of us before speaking. “Now with Don’t Panic being out for quite some time, we feel like you need to go back into recording. So, after this next tour, you’re scheduled to hit the studio. The thing is, we want more energy. We’re sick of hearing sad songs, we want happy, catchy, upbeat tracks.”

“I can’t just spit out songs,” I begin to say, but I’m cut off.

“Just give us something that’ll sell.” I roll my eyes and listen to the conversation as everyone else speaks. Jack is all for going back into the studio. I want to punch him right now. Maybe I’ll have him write the next album. “What do you guys think?”

“Can we have some time to think about it?” I ask, rubbing my temples. He agrees to give us two weeks to decide. It’s either give him what he wants or find a new label. I clench my fists as the four of us head back to the car. I throw the keys to Zack and take his spot in the back seat. I’m sick of being in control of everything. My stress level shouldn’t be this high. I think about how in high school we didn’t think we’d ever be signed, how cool it would be. Now-a-days it seems like nothing but trouble and money. I rest my head on the window and close my eyes until we make it to the hotel.

Jack and I share a room for our trip. He unlocks the door and I pass by him, throwing myself onto the bed closest to the window. I bury my face in the pillow, I want to scream. He asks me if I’m okay, I don’t say anything. After shouting into my pillow, I sit up, groan and throw the covers onto the floor. I lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Do you think we would have gone to college?”

“What?”

“If we didn’t get signed, would we have gone to school?” I ask my best friend.

“I’d like to think so?”

“What would you major in?” I roll over on my side and stare at him. “I’d like to think I’d do like music education or something, but I don’t know.”

“Is a Ph.D in boobs a real thing?” He laughs at himself. I throw my pillow at his face. He ducks and it hits the wall behind him.

“Dude, I’m being serious.” This conversation continues on until it gets dark. I finally get up and look out the window, the city was still alive with light, but I could slightly make out the night sky. I stare up into the darkness, watching for nothing. I see a flash of light, a shooting star. I close my eyes quickly, making a wish to myself. What’s the harm, right? “I wish I just had an average life sometimes.”

Notes

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