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It takes me a while, but eventually I brave making eye contact with Brandon, and as I do a bolt of emotions shoots right down to my core. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of looking at him, of seeing him look at me like that. He makes me feel special and I think he always will.
I search his face, looking for some hurt, but he doesn’t give me anything to worry about. He must know that this is all about him, but thankfully I think he understands that I’m simply drawing my art from real life.
Once my first, heart wrenching song is up, I decide to sing one of my more positive ones. It’s a song I wrote when things were really good with me and Brandon when I first started feeling that excitable flush of potential love. It hasn’t ever seen the light of day until now because it was much too painful to sing, but I think it’s important. For me, I need to recall the good times that me and Brandon had, I want him to know that I appreciate it when it was good. He has made a big effort to make things right with me, and it seems to be continuing. I appreciate all of that, and I also am so grateful for what he’s done for my father.
I want to use my singing to show him that I know he’s not a terrible person. I just hope that I’m doing a good job…
***
“Right, Lola. We will now have a meeting and decide where we want to go next with this. Will you be available at any time if we contact you?”
“I will make sure of it,” Brandon interjects. “It’s not a long drive, so if the timing is right for you and your dad, I can always pick you up.”
I nod silently, not saying a word. This is so exciting, my dream is finally happening, but it’s spiraling quickly, moving too fast. I feel like a train is rushing past me at a million miles an hour and I need to jump on now or I’ll miss it. Of course I want this, it’s a dream come true, it makes every single one of my fantasies more of a potential reality… but the problem with dreams coming true is the parts of real life that have to be sacrificed along the way. If I go for this, I might end up away from my dad way too much.
Still, I haven’t signed anything so I suppose I can still say no.
“Thank you,” I rasp out, not wanting to be rude. Especially if this all turns out to be a waste of time for them later on. “I appreciate the opportunity.”
After some hand shaking and some air kissing, me and Brandon finally leave the recording studio hand in hand. The natural light of the outside world feels so bright now, after being in there for hours, is so intense that I have to blink a few times to bring me back to normal. The intensity is still sitting on my shoulders, rolling through my body in waves.
&n
bsp; “Did that really just happen?” I ask Brandon with a bemused chuckle. “That was mad.”
“I thought you might not quite believe it, even though you just experienced it, so I took some pictures of you on my phone. I hope that’s okay?”
He pulls out his phone and hands it to me, and I take a moment to scroll through the reams of images that he’s snapped of me. I have my eyes closed because I’m so lost in the music in most of them, which is how I didn’t know he was taking them, and I have to admit I’m shocked at how good I look. I appear professional, confident, in control… like I belong. It’s the first time since I stepped into this recording studio that I don’t feel like the whole thing was a giant mistake.
“Wow,” I gasp as I clap my hand across my mouth. “That’s insane. Can I take these to show my father? I know he’ll get a kick out of them.”
“I’ll send them all too you… then when you need to set up all your social media accounts for your bright new career you’ll have some pictures to start with.”
“Oh stop it.”
I shove him playfully, but inside his words create a buzz. Maybe this could be the start of something real. I don’t expect to have the biggest career in the world, I don’t think I’ll actually be playing Madison Square Garden, but anything would be nice. To make money from my music, the thing that I love to do, would be incredible. How many people can say that they actually have a career they love?
“You shouldn’t have said that thing, you know?” I probe Brandon. “About coming to pick me up whenever they want to see me. Your dad is already mad enough about you not spending enough time in the office and he blames me. If they call me, I’ll make my own way here. The last thing I want is to create any sort of rift…”
“That won’t be a problem,” Brandon interrupts me. “So don’t worry about it.”
I narrow my eyes at him as confusion floods me. “Look, just because you think that I’ve charmed your father, doesn’t make it the truth. You do realize that while he likes me now, that could so easily change. Plus, the company needs you…”
“The company doesn’t need me.” His smile is much too bright and knowing. “Because I don’t work for the company anymore.”
I stop where I am in the middle of the sidewalk and I clap my hand hard into his chest. “What the hell do you mean?” I demand. “Are you crazy?”
“Not crazy. Happy.” He chuckles. “I haven’t been happy at the company for a long time, this is something that I’ve wanted to do for a while, I just haven’t had the confidence. I needed something else to focus on, I needed a dream to follow.”
“Right I see,” I gulp. “So you’ve found something else to do? What’s that?”
His face lights up as he speaks, I can already see this means so much to him so I cling onto every single word that falls out of his mouth. “The thing is, I’m good at overseeing property development plans, but at the moment it doesn’t make me happy. I’ve found a way to change that.”
“You… have?”
“I have combined it with my other passion… helping people. Something that you and your dad have helped me to see.” I open my mouth to say something but I can’t get a word in edgeways because he’s already on a roll. “I want to create housing projects that actually help people. Affordable homes for the needy, adapted homes for the people who need it, rented homes for single mothers,, renovations for those who can’t afford it, that sort of thing. I sat up all night last night creating a business plan for it and I’ve already spoke to Hank and Archie this morning who want to be on board. Sure, it won’t make me much money, a lot of the time it might even cost me more than it makes, but I don’t need money. I have plenty, more than I need. I’m not in it for that. I want to make a difference.”
I can barely breathe, never mind speak. “Your dad?” I pant out breathlessly. The plan is incredible and so damn noble, but how will his father take it?
