chapter two

Did I tell you already that I don’t really like waking up at nine on a Saturday to sit for about three or more hours and hear about how the label thinks my new lyrics are too racy or they think it won’t be a hit with the fans. They talk to me like I have no idea what it was like to be a teenager or whatever. I’m not stupid.
“So, what do you guys think?” a slalom faced V.P. mumbles across the table at us. I place the heals of my shoes on the edge of the table and rock back and forth. Completely in my own world. Why tell them that I hate all of this shit when they’ll just change it any way. Jeordio and the others nod like little robots, then turn their glances on me. I tip my head back lazily and sigh deeply. I really want to voice my true thoughts, but I chose the smarter thing to say; “Oh. Yeah. It works.” What more can I say? They own me till the day I die.
I swear inside myself. I watch the ceiling and image my favorite dream, the one where I see her for the first and only time. This time though, I met her. I decided on a name for her a little while after I started having dreams about her. I named her Sky. I don’t know why, it some how just fit her whole everything.

So, as my show comes to an end I say into the mic that I want a fan to come on stag to sing the final song with me. People scream and fight and shove and punch each other to get on stage with me. Fans are crazy. A broad smile crosses my face and my band all give me strange looks probably asking themselves “what the hell is he thinking?!” but I don’t care about this right now because I point at Sky. She stands there, staring in awe. The others around her begin to cheer her on and force her at the stage. Slowly, she walks up to the edge and they lift Sky up.
She stays at the end. I reach out to her and she takes my hand. I don’t know what her voice really sounds like, so I make it sound like this chick off of this show I saw once. Maybe American Idol, you know? But anyway, it’s the most beautiful voice ever. And we sing together. Our voices become one and the same and then suddenly I’m pulled back to reality. To the meeting I was dragged kicking and screaming to. To a world with out her and with out the imaginary passion we shared on that stage. Even if it’s only in my head, it doesn’t make it any easier to return to everything I left when I went into dream mode.
“Yo! Brian, you awake? It’s time for lunch.” This time it’s Chris snapping at me. I realize that he’s hunched over me because I’m still looking up at the ceiling. “Where we goin’ for lunch?” I mange to spit out, sounding drunk. Not right now though.