Music Biz

“Dasha!” Margo exclaimed, bursting through the door to the recording studio. I looked up from my music sheets, and took off my headphones.

“Yeah Margo? Do you need anything?” I asked, trying to be polite. I really needed to finish this song; the melody wasn’t working the way I wanted it to, and I couldn’t put my finger on a word that I needed

“You have a visitor. She wouldn’t take ‘no’ as an answer.”

I sighed. “Let them in. It’s not like I’m making any progress just sitting here alone.”

“Oh my! Dasha I’m so glad you let me in! We really need to talk!” Vi said loudly, bounding into the room.

“Okay, okay. Just let me pack up my stuff,” I said, removing the guitar from my lap. It took me a few minutes to tidy everything up. I may be messy at home, but I can’t work in an unorganized space. Call me a freak, but that’s just me.

“Done. Are we going out for coffee too?” I asked, knowing the answer. We always went to Starbucks when we had important stuff to talk about.

“Of course! You shouldn’t even have to ask!” she exclaimed, pulling me out the door. Whatever she wanted to talk about must have been extremely important.

“What is it, Vi?” I asked, once we were seated.

“I’ve heard a rumor. Well, two actually. One is pretty good, the other not so much. Wait, there were three things! Two good and one not to good. Which do you want first?”

“The bad news, I suppose. Get it over with,” I replied.

“I was at work, right? And in come those two men, oh I can’t remember their names. Paparazzi. They ask to speak to the editor of the magazine, so I call her office. She’s busy, and tells to entertain the gentlemen for a couple minutes while she finishes up what she was doing. So I ask them why they were there. They don’t know who I am, so they said that they had controversial information on your past. I asked them what that meant, but they didn’t answer me because that’s when the editor’s assistant came out to get them. So I’m guessing that you’ll be the headline of tomorrow’s magazine, if they actually know what we think they know,” Vi explained.

“Oh God! I am so screwed! If they actually do know that, I can say goodbye to my career. I’ll have to move to like, Norway or something, where no one knows me!” I exclaimed. This sucked big time.

“But I mean, there’s a lot from your past that no one knows about, so maybe it’s not that particular event that they found out,” Vi said, trying to look on the positive side.

“Just give me the rest of the news so I can get back to work,” I said, knowing how mean I sounded. I couldn’t believe the paparazzi these days. Anything to get money. I hated it.

“First off, I overheard Francis talking in his room. He likes Julie! I’m not sure who was on the other end, but I thought it was pretty funny. Julie is totally not his type. I always thought he went for dancers, or at least performers in general, not journalists, or future journalists,” Violet said, giggling to herself.

“Yeah, as long as he doesn’t start spends hours at my place every day. I love your brother and all, but I can only stand him so much. He does get annoying, always breaking out in dances.”

”Hey! I break out in dance too!” Vi protested.

“Yes, but you’re a girl, that’s perfectly normal. It’s not for a 19-year-old guy,” I said. “What the other good thing you heard?”

“Okay, well it may just be a rumor, but as I was walking in to get you, I overheard What’s-His-Face and the other dude talking-”

“Mr. Watson and Mr. Guthro?” I interrupted her.

“Yeah, those dudes. They were talking about making you go on tour after you release your album. At least, that’s what it sounded like to me,” she said.

“Oh! That’s be amazing! Seeing the U.S. for free, while serenading millions. That’s when I don’t doubt my decision to become a singer,” I said.