Chapter 21: Facing the Music
"I know it seems like I've been blowing off my responsibilities, but I assure you I care about my music and my fans. I don't want to screw any more things up. Please, Jimmy give me a second chance."
I was sitting at the mercy of the head of my record label. My career has been deteriorating within the past month. My fans think I've gone A-wall, and the rest of my team thinks I don't care anymore. I'm slowly trying to clean up the mess my parents have made and clear up the lies they've spread.
"You've missed four consecutive meetings, three rehearsals, and have blown off two concerts. This month was supposed to be about advertising in preparation for the summer tour. Because you wasted this whole month, we only have May to do everything."
"I'm more than ready to work hard to get us back on track."
I tell him confidently.
He gives me a hard stare as if trying to search my soul for the truth.
"What have you been doing with your free time."
"I've been going to school."
I say proudly.
"Really..."
He folded his arms in disbelief.
"Yeah, I enrolled at Marino High and have been going there for the past month."
"With Ally?"
"Yeah, her parents told me if I stayed with them, I had to go to public school. It's been going well."
Jimmy looked confused.
"That's really interesting… Mimi told me a different story."
I sighed realizing all my mother's been up to is scrutinizing my career by telling lies about me. As much as I wanted to scream "My parents are lying snakes don't trust a word they say!", I had to stay professional. This was my last chance to redeem myself and prove to him I was mature enough to manage my issues.
"Well, I'm sure she was just mistaken. I'm telling you the truth."
Jimmy smiled holding out his hand.
"Well, it's good to have you back Austin."
I smiled ear to ear launching eagerly towards his hand to give it the best shake of my life.
"Thank you so much sir! I promise you won't regret this!"
I vigorously shook his hand making his wrist bend like rubber.
"I have a feeling I won't." He smiled.
"I will have my assistant send you and your parents the new schedule. You'll have an interview this Sunday."
"Okay." I smiled relentlessly.
My heart leaped for joy. I was finally going to make music again. Although it was just a month, It felt like a lifetime. I was so close to giving up on music entirely. I thought that maybe I could find something else. If it weren't for Penny convincing me to call Jimmy, I would have never gotten my job back. She is such an encouraging mom. She's not mine, but sometimes I wish she was. Just as I turn to leave his office, he calls out for me.
"Oh! And you'll have to quit school. You know that though."
He said quickly, referring back to paper work on his desk.
I'm not going to lie, my heart sank a little. I was never very fond of public school, but it was growing on me. I liked going to the same school as Ally. I liked being close to her. I liked having people my own age that I could talk to. But, if things were going back to normal, I would not have time to go to public school anymore. Especially now that I had to make up for lost time. I had to be in full force Austin Moon mode.
"Okay." I agreed.
I sat confidently at the dining table with one hand wrapped tightly around a fork and the other resting patiently on the table cloth. Next to Ally's hand. I felt a whirlwind of joy wash over me as Ally and her parents showered me with warm smiles and warm wishes for my future. Congratulations floated throughout the table jumping from one person to the next like wildfire.I couldn't stop smiling.
"I'm proud of you Austin."
Ally smiled warmly. I shared her smile. We hadn't had a real smile in a while. It felt good.
I couldn't have been happier. Hearing those four words surpassed all that I hoped for in a family.
I'm proud of you
That's all I ever wanted to hear.
A plethora of colored lights are displayed throughout the entire park illuminating the night. They've hung lights on all the trees and painted murals of famous singers on the concrete. Mr. and Mrs. Dawson took me out to Miami's annual park festival to celebrate the revival of my career. My parents used to take me here when I was little. It feels smaller now.
When the sun set and it grew dark, Ally's parents went on a boat ride leaving Ally and I alone. We walked around a little bit playing a few carnival games. At our last carnival game, we spent almost two hours at the booth. The Balloon Dart Toss. I was done after ten minutes, but Ally refused to stop until she won the biggest prize. it seemed as if she was never going to give up. It also seemed as if she was never going to win. It actually looked like she was getting worse. Each throw shifting further from the under-inflated balloons. With twenty dollars invested in the game, Ally was knee deep in carnival fever.
With great focus, she wiped the sweat off her brow, narrowing her eyes to measure the throw. Slowly then all at once, she released the dart from her hand. A loud knock was heard as the dart connected with the painted wood. Missing the balloon. For the 40th time.
An angry growl escaped her lips as a tired moan left mine. I glanced over at the poor girl operating the booth offering an apologetic look.
As Ally reached to pull more money out, I stopped her hand suggesting we move on to something else.
To my dismay, she pulled out another twenty dollar bill and handed it swiftly to the girl.
"Ally, the prizes aren't even worth it. Please let's just go."
"It's not about the prize Austin. I need to beat this game. To know it's possible."
"I think we can both conclude it's not."
"Well, I think it is."
"Well, I think it's stupid."
"You can leave then."
She continued to throw striving for perfect precision. I took the spot next to her, setting down our prizes. I paid the girl ten dollars for twenty darts.
"What are you doing?"
Ally shot her head towards me.
"If I win before you, we get to leave."
"Fine. And if I win?"
"You can play all night while I go home with your parents."
A light chuckle played on her lips. She shook my hand saying
"Deal."
On the count of three we jumped into battle. Throwing dart after dart. Ally had more than I had, so I tried to throw each one with care. It seemed like the higher I aimed the closer I was to making contact with the balloon. But even when the dart hit the balloon it would fall off because of the dull tip. After a minute of failed attempts, I had only three darts left.
With a gentle hand, I pointed the dart to the far left balloon aiming an inch above it. With a sharp flick of the wrist, I threw the dart popping the balloon!
That must be it! It's in the wrist!
I picked up my last two darts imitating the same movement. After popping my third balloon in a row, the winning bell rang out.
"You've got to be kidding me!"
Ally yelled in disappointment.
"I swear I just got lucky."
I smiled cheek to cheek.
I had won three prize tickets that equaled three thousand points. As the clerk asked me what I wanted, Ally interjected.
"He'll take the pink dolphin."
"Alright!"
The girl happily unhookedclipped the bright stuffed animal handing it to Ally.
She tucked her arms tightly around the fluffy mammal. With pouty lips she mumbled
"I deserve this."
I smiled relieved we could finally leave.
"Yes you do."
We met up with Mr. and Mrs. Dawson at stage where this local performer was performing. The poster behind him read Cameron Taylor. He had the classic young heartthrob look. Eyes pure and innocent with sparks of rebellion. Hair shaved on the sides but left long at the top to run hands through. And skin tight jeans to add a touch of femininity to the look. He danced across the stage full of energy smiling at each and every fan. This was clearly one of his first gigs. He was a little too happy to be up there. Once you've been performing for a while it becomes routine and you only really smile at the beginning and at the end of your performance.
All of a sudden, a realization hit me. The hair, the clothes, the moves… it was me. I was watching myself. This was the first stage I ever performed at.
The memories came flooding in quicker than the miami tide.
Austin, do you have your water?
Yes, mom.
Okay and your hair gel?
I already have some on.
Okay, what about the second half of the set list? You're gonna need to reapply.
I'm here to sing, mom. Not to walk a catwalk. I don't need to look perfect.
Wrong. That's exactly how you need to look. Perfect. That's what labels like to see. Clean-cut, professional boys. If your hair's flying around everywhere no one will take a second look at you. I'm trying to get you noticed. Not stop moving around, let me fix you.
I was fourteen at the time.
I remember how destroyed I felt when I had come in second place in the competition. I won five hundred dollars, but the winning prize was one thousand dollars. To my parents second place was equivalent to last. I remember feeling angry for failing them. I had worked so hard on my song and thought I was going to win.
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
"I came in second place."
"If you're not first you're last."
"I'm getting five hundred dollars"
"First place was a thousand. These competitions are not your school's talent show. You can't just show off a few dance moves and expect to win. You have to be polished to perfection. You are going up against future stars. If you wanna be one of them, you have to bump up your game. Do you wanna be second place you're entire life?"
"No."
"Then get up and dust yourself off. You're gonna learn what first place tastes like."
What a sour taste it is.
I turned away from the stage relieving myself of the painful memories. TV makes fame taste so good, and when it touches your lips it is sweet. But it has such an awful aftertaste that creates a burning sensation in your mouth. It's not worth it. Fame is a price artists pay for doing what they love. It's not a reward. I just wish I would've known that. I truly believe, if you're not in love with art, you shouldn't be creating it. No matter how talented you are, if your hearts not in it, neither should you be. Life's too short to create music that doesn't speak to you.
After being alone with my thoughts, I am joined by my best friend. Sitting on the near side of the bench holding her dolphin tightly to her chest.
We sat side by side soaking in the cool wind the reflected off the river behind us. The night had completely fallen revealing bright stars shining across the blue canvas. A soft melody played in my heart as I watched the people of Miam enjoying the games, the food and the music. The life I painted for myself has robbed me of simple pleasures like these. I don't remember the last time I went somewhere just for the enjoyment. Just for the experience. Just to go. I didn't slowly climb the ladder like Ally did. I worked tirelessly, day and night; determined to climb until I was at the top. I was determined to make a name for myself. It never occurred to me what the top would look like. All I knew is that it was above everyone else. And that's all that mattered.
As powerful as nostalgia is I think regret will always have a tighter hold on my heart. Nostalgia let's my heart rest in the past, but regret uses the past to invade the present and threaten the future. As soon as I think I've put my issues with mom and dad in the past, I am struck with flashes from the past, haunting my present. I will always be that little kid with big dreams. Enough ambition to conquer the world, and watch it burn in the same day.
"Are you excited to be on stage again? What has it been a month?"
A low voice asked me.
"And three weeks."
"What do I have to be excited for? The over dramatic set pieces, crazy props, slutty back-up dancers, and stupid paparazzi?" For the first time in a while, I let my thoughts run freely out in the open.
"That's all you remember?"
"For the most part. To be honest, I don't have good memories on stage. Every concert was a test to see if I would perform perfect this time. To see if I would remember all the cues and hit every note perfectly. I came off that stage every night angry about something that went wrong. Something always went wrong. It was never perfect."
"Then, why are you going back?"
"What do you mean?"
"If your career was just as miserable as you're explaining, why go back? What's going to be different?"
"I-I don't know. I just know this is something I've always done. It doesn't feel right to stop."
I feel a soft head lean against my shoulder.
"Maybe music is becoming something of the past."
"I love singing. It's how I escape from my troubles, it's where I feel complete. It's how I connect with you."
Softly she slips her hand into mine. My heart sings even louder as her palms press against mine. Sending flutters of happiness through my body.
"We'll always be connected. Music or silence."
I slightly lift my head from leaning against hers. I place a soft kiss on her forehead. As soon as my lips touch her skin I feel a wave of guilt rush over me. My closed eyes tightened in regret. My worst fear and greatest desire comes true almost in an instant.
She presses her lips against mine. I keep still as her mouth does all the work. She stops momentarily glancing at me with pleading eyes. With eager lips she kisses me again. I can't kiss her back. I sit still as she brushes my cold lips over and over again. Tired of the useless game, she pulls herself away. Her hurtful eyes find the ground and never depart. She releases my hand clinging tightly to her dolphin.
I feel like the worst person in the world.
As I'm about to bring my arms around her in remorse, I hear a soft yell. We both turn to look up. My heart nearly jumps out of my chest.