Breaking the Rules

“Charlie!” my friend Alexis accuses through the phone. I have to work tonight and can’t go to “the best party of the year.”

“Alex!” I mock her. “No.”

“But why not?”

“A) I have to work. And B) I don’t want to go.”

“You are no fun.”

“Yeah, I know. Hey Alex, I gotta get back to work.”

“Stupid work.”

“You keep on thinkin that. Bye Alex.”

“Bye Charlie,” she says hanging up.

I grab my water bottle and head out of the break room. I chug half the water in the hallway. Finally I make it to my post. I work at my mother’s producing company Atlantis Records. I love it here. I meet famous people every day. It’s awesome. To name a few: Rihanna, Taylor Swift, Maroon 5, Drake, and I’m just getting started. I get paid a lot too because being a 17-year-old girl, it’s really hard to keep calm sometimes. But I have always followed rules one and two: Rule One: Never fall for a client(s). Rule Two: Never forget Rule One. My mom loves me for it.

At 4:30 pm a new band is coming in the see if they could possibly work here. I’m psyched. I love newcomers. Plus they are British, and British accents are hot. It’s only 3:00 pm but I have to set up the conference room.

“Suzy. I need to set up. You’ll be okay working alone for an hour?” I ask Suzy, the other secretary for today.

“Yeah I’ll be fine. It’s slow today anyway. Just make sure your back in time,” she says.

“Thanks,” I call over my shoulder. The conference room is on the second floor, Room 2A1. There is only five stories, but my mom wanted it wider, not so much tall like everyone else. The building is spilt section A, B, C, and D; followed by a number 1 – 20. Pretty simple with four elevators in the middle, each one facing a different way. I think it a brilliant idea, while others have gotten lost. That was not a fun day.

The conference room on level 2 isn’t very big. Just a long table and a projection screen. One wall is a window and the opposite one has a stage for occasions like today.

I have to set the stage and check the mics. Then I set the table with plates and silverware and such. A notepad at the head of the table for my mom. Then I call the cook to bring in chocolate chip cookies. His name is Joshua and he is amazing. His food is the best, no joke. I finish at 4:00 and head downstairs.

“All done!” I cheer as Suzy looks at me.

“Good job!” she says copying my enthusiasm.

“Well, we’ve got 30 minutes to blow. Want to search the newbies?” I ask.

“Oh yeah! What’s their name?”

“The Wanted? I believe that’s what my mom said.”

“Cool,” she says typing it in on YouTube. Ah… the magical YouTube.

“All Time Low? Isn’t that a band?” I ask even though I know the answer.

“Sure is. First hit single by The Wanted.”

“M’kay. Hit it.”

“Prayin’ won’t do it

Hatin’ won’t do it

Fightin’ won’t knock you out

Of my head.” the nearly bald man sang.

I like the video and song, it’s cool and stuff, but there was one member I can’t stop watching. He is the one I can’t wait to meet.

Suzy pauses the video for a second. “He is my favorite,” she says pointing to the other short one with black hair and earrings.

I play the video and pause it when his face is there. “Mine.”

“I don’t know his face is a little weird.”

“And yours has earrings.”

“Well his earrings are hot.”

“And his face is beautiful.”

Suzy sighs. “Doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Yeah, but it’s fun.”

“True dat.”

“Fifteen minutes?”

“Yep. Time to cool down.” Suzy says like a yoga teacher.

We always take extra time cooling now when new people are coming. Can’t be star struck when you’re meeting someone new, can you?

We can hear the little bell single someone is coming in. There is a little ramp before you reach our posts, so at the moment we can’t see them. I keep my face glued to my computer as I fake do stuff. It apparently makes you seem more professional. Whatever works, I guess.

“Excuse me. We are The Wanted and we are supposed to meet with Janette Emery,” the bald one says in an accent.

“At 4:30,” the one with curly hair finishes.

“The Wanted,” I mumble looking at the calendar on my desk. “Okay, here you are. Now can I get your names, in age order?” I ask pulling out my band note book, in which I keep track of who is in the band, what they play, birthday, age, other typical stuff that needs to be done by their personal assistant… cough, cough, me.

“I’m Nathan. I’m the youngest,” Nathan says. The one I like. So much hotter in person. Keep cool Charlie.

“Okay. Um, last name?” I ask.

“Sykes. S-y-k-e-s.”

“What is your birthday?”

“April 18th 1993.”

“Okay. Thank you Mr. Sykes. Next?”

“James, but call me Jay, McGuiness. M-c-Capitol G-u-i-n-e-s-s. I was born July 24th 1990,” curly haired Jay says.

“Nice meeting you Mr. McGuiness,” I say knowing whoever was next would go.

“Siva Kaneswaran,” the one with exaggerated cheek bones says. “K-a-n-e-s-w-a-r-a-n. And I was born on the 16th of November in 1988.”

“Hello Mr. Kaneswaran.”

“I’m Max George. If you don’t know how to spell “Max” and “George”, I don’t wanna work here,” bald man Max jokes.

“Don’t worry, I got it.”

“Good. My birthday is September 6th 1988.”

“Sweet. Hope you have a nice time here. Is there anyone else?”

“Yeah there’s Tom Parker but the little git is late,” Max says. Tom must be the one Suzy likes.

“That’s alright. When is his birthday?” I say.

“August 4th 1988,” Nathan says in his sexy little accent.

“Hey Suzy I’m going to take them to the conference room. Could you bring
Mr. Parker up when he gets here?” I ask giving her a hidden message.

“Yes I can,” she replies getting the hint.

“Thank you. Alright boys follow me,” I say as I pick up my notebook and move the half-door open so I can get through.

“You can call us by our first names, you know. Mr. McGuiness makes me sound old,” Jay says.

“I second that,” Nathan says.

“M’kay,” I say.

“So what’s your name?” Max asks.

“Charlotte, but call me Charlie,” I reply as he puts his arm around me. God. His arm is heavy.

“Okay Charlie. How old are you?” Jay says moving in front of me walking backwards.

“I am 17. My birthday is April 20th.”

“Really! April birthdays!” Nathan says holding his hand out to give me a high five. I use my hand that is not squished between Max and my bodies to slap his.

“Yep. Now for some important stuff that needs to be done by me. Do you guys play any instruments?” I ask as we enter the elevator. Siva is right next to the buttons so I just hold up two fingers and he presses the button two.

“Piano,” Nathan says.

“I play tramborine,” Jay states.

“I know base guitar,” Max says.

“Guitar,” Siva says.

“And Tom plays the guitar,” Jay adds.

“Thank you. I hope I got all that,” I mumble the last part.

Max takes the notebook as we walk out and checks it. “Yep your good.”

“Good. Now any experience before The Wanted?”

“I was in the band Avenue,” Max says.

“I won a British TV competition when I was nine,” Nathan announces.

“I was an actor for a show,” Siva says.

“Not really. Neither has Tom,” Jay says.

“That’s alright,” I comfort him. “And the conference room. Here is the stage where you will sing your songs. Because you can’t sing anything else. My mo- Mrs. Emery will sit here, at the head, and there will be more people here,” I gesture toward each thing I say.

“Now line up on the stage,” I command. They follow my instructions and move to the stage. “How tall is Tom?”

“About an inch or two tall than me,” Nathan says.

“Alrightly. I’m going to put you guys in order. Stay in that order for now,” I warn. They look confused but nod anyway. “Max in the middle. Nathan to his left and Tom will be on your right. Jay, you’ll be next to Tom. And Siva, next to Nathan. Now I’m only doing this because we had a band not know where to go so they all went to the middle and they looked real stupid when two of them bumped heads. So once you’re up there you can move but move to these spots right away. Mrs. Emery likes an organized group. But she will not like this,” I say taking Nathan’s hat.

“Hey!” he yells.

“No she will hate you forever if you wear this hat. Don’t worry though, she’s usually nice,” I say. Can’t give a bad rep for my boss, duh.

“But I want it,” he pouts.

“No. I’ll give it back later,” I say putting it in the hand that is holding the notebook.

Nathan sighs and fixes his hair as Suzy comes in with Tom.

“Hey mate!” Max says. Tom moves toward the only open mic left.

“Hey guys,” he says.

“They are so hot,” I whisper to Suzy. She nods and giggles then waves to the boys before leaving.

“Good. Now that Tom’s here, rules,” I say. Holding up one finger, “No swearing.” Two fingers, “No fighting.” Three fingers, “No ganster signs. I think you get the point. Tips. 1) Move around! Jump, dance, walk. Doesn’t matter. Mrs. Emery likes when you can grab the attention of the audience with ease. 2) Don’t focus your attention on one person. Look around and stuff. 3) Talk about your musical experience. She likes that. And that is it. Good luck,” I say holding up crossed fingers. My mom comes in just then. The boys rush to take a seat on the side of the table closer to the stage. And so the interview starts…