Disclaimer: Still own nothing, including Fleetwood Mac's You Can Go Your Own Way
Beca Mitchell did not get nervous. Beca Mitchell did not get worked up over something as simple as a job interview. Beca Mitchell was so scared that she was 85% sure that at some point in the very near future she was going to piss her pants.
"Niña nervioso?" Nervous little girl? Manny's cousin, Diego Juarez, asked in his incredibly thick Hispanic accent. Beca shot the young man a smirk. She may or may not have let it slip to the man that she spoke a little bit of Spanish (five years of Spanish in high school actually paid off, who knew?) and the man had not stopped yabbering away to her in his native language since.
She rubbed her palms quickly on the legs of her skinny jeans and quickly responded, "Sólo un poco." Just a little.
"You will be fine hermanita," Diego said firmly. "That CD you played is no joke. They'd be crazy not to sign you. I've heard worse running around with microphones in this town."
"That's really not comforting," Beca mumbled and Diego laughed slightly.
"Relax chicka," he soothed, his accent washing over her. "My cousin is a good man. He would not bring you all the way out here just to turn you away. Have faith."
"Right," Beca breathed softly. "Faith. I can do that. Maybe…"
Beca shifted from one foot to another staring slightly slack-jaw at the building in front of her. It was a massive metal and glass composition and looked incredibly modern. Overtop the front glass doors was a massive sign proclaiming the building as TurnStyles Records Incorporate.
Oh holy shit, she was 99.99% sure that she was going to piss her pants now. This was terrifying. Sure this was everything she'd been working for ever since she was 13, but still. To have it all in front of her and all it would take to ruin it would be one mistake. One little, measly, insignificant mistake. Shit fuck damn.
One deep breath and Beca wrung her hands one last time before stepping in through the front door. The lobby was mostly empty and incredibly white. Not the first things that anyone else would notice but hey, adrenaline addled brains pick up on the weirdest things, huh? Speaking of weird, what sort of plant was that? It looked like a tiger lily fused with a cactus on steroids. The damn thing was bigger than she was!
"Miss?" a voice snapped Beca out of her haze. The only other person in the room, a pretty blond receptionist (Holy shit her teeth are white. Wonder what type of toothpaste she used. Damn it, focus Beca!) was looking expectantly at Beca.
"Oh, right," Beca stuttered slightly. "Manny called for me." The receptionist nodded once and started tapping something out on the keyboard.
She apparently found what she was looking for because she looked at Beca with a small smile as she asked, "Beca Mitchell?"
"Yeah," Beca breathed in relief. "That's me."
"Alright honey," the receptionist smiled sweetly at Beca. She'd clearly seen her fair share of hopeful artists and producers traipse through her lobby. "Head on up to the sixth floor and Manny's office is the fourth door on the right. Just knock and he should be in there. You might have to bang on the door pretty hard, he tends to crank the music up and lose himself in it. Good luck." She smiled again and Beca gave her a nervous little quirk of her lips in return.
"Thanks," Beca said softly and then she was on her way up. She took a deep breath and bypassed the elevator, opting instead to traipse up six flights of stairs and give herself more time to process. As the floors passed, her nervous energy fell. She no longer felt that nervous twisting and clenching in her stomach and she had to admit, she was incredibly grateful that that was over. She didn't handle nerves well apparently. Noted and filed away for further musings. But now, now, she was filled with a different sense of calm. A sort of sharp perception that she sort of assumed only came with a violent raise in adrenaline and a sudden dropping of inhibitions.
She stepped up the last few steps and exited the stairwell onto the sixth floor. She looked around, verifying that she was in fact on the right floor, and then slowly, and she meant SLOWLY, walked down the sixth floor hallway. She finally stopped in front of the fourth door on the right. From inside the office, Manny's office, there was a deep bass that thumped the floors. Beca rapped three times on the door and stood rocking awkwardly on her heels, waiting for the door to be answered. When no one came, the nervousness from earlier reared its ugly head and Beca could feel the pit in her stomach starting to grow. Swallowing down the feeling, she remembered the secretary's words. And she could definitely feel the ground shaking all the way out here; it must be pumped up to some pretty incredible volumes on the inside.
With all the strength she could muster (which is actually quite a lot. She did knock out a guy with a single punch once) she pounded three times on the door. There was yet another moment of nothing changing and suddenly the door was yanked open. Beca found herself face-to-chin with a rather portly Hispanic man. The drastic change of scenery had Beca blinking in shock for more than just a few times, her head spinning in confusion.
"WHY HELLO!" the man shrieked into Beca's face, waving his hands wildly above his head.
"Uh… hi?" Beca said uncertainly. She wasn't quite sure how to deal with this man. "Manny?"
"YEAH! THAT'S ME! ARE YOU BECA?"
"Um… yes?"
"GREAT! I'M MANNY!"
"No kidding," Beca muttered, her eyes still slightly wide as she tried to take in all that is the afro man in front of her. Manny was shorter than she expected. He couldn't possibly have been taller than five foot seven but his afro stretched to at least six foot three. His hair was the size of at least two basketballs melded together in a mass of brown curly hair. Huh. If you looked at it from the right angle, it kind of looked like it was eating his head. Manny also had massive brown eyes that gave Beca the distinct impression of an over-excited puppy dog and massive cheeks.
While Beca was contemplating the implications on whether Manny's hair was a sentient being and could actually EAT his head, Manny's mouth was running a mile a minute. "And there's this place just downtown that you absolutely HAVE to go to. In fact, we should probably just go there for lunch. Do you eat meat? You're not one of those freaky vegan chicks 'cause meat is a wonderful, wonderful thing. Unless you don't eat it then I'm sorry for insulting your religion. Anyway-"
"Eh Manny," Beca cut the man off, a little in awe of the fact that the man didn't breathe one damn time that entire freaking schpeal. "When do I play my stuff for your boss?"
"What? Why would you do that?" Manny asked, confusion written all across his face.
"Oh," Beca said, her words broken and dejected. She hadn't realized that she'd already been denied by TurnStyles and that she'd basically been flown out here to be dumped before she'd even had her shot. Manny, whose motor mouth was finally still, at least for a little bit, noticed Beca's odd tone.
"Chicka?" he asked carefully, his open and slightly chubby face radiating nothing but concern. "Are you alright?" That soft and simple question seemed to snap Beca out of her slump and suddenly her walls flew back up higher than ever.
In a guarded and slightly cold voice she said, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll just be seeing myself out then."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," Manny all but yelped. He leapt in front of her in a surprisingly dexterous move for a squat man with a 'fro. Which, by the way, was giggling and shaking like a Jello cup in an earthquake. "Where are you going?" Manny asked, his tone even more hurt and dejected than Beca's had been.
"Well you said earlier that I had to impress your boss and then I would get the contract with you guys. And just now you said I'm not playing anything for them now… so…" Beca trailed off with an awkward shrug of her shoulders. Manny still looked confused for a moment before he suddenly burst out laughing, his rotund belly jiggling with every giggle. Beca now looked less hurt and more insulted.
"Chicka," Manny finally managed to snort out between chuckles. "Chicka, chicka, chicka. I was right, you are a riot."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Beca snapped exasperatedly.
"You're already in," Manny replied simply. With that simple sentence, all of Beca's motor functions shut down.
"I'm sorry, what?" she managed to croak.
Manny's eyes were still crinkled from laughing as he said, "Yeah, yeah I already presented your stuff to the boss man upstairs and he loved it. He said he wants you no matter what. Do you really think that we'd fly you all the way out here and then dump you on your ass?" Beca's silence more than answered Manny's question. "My god, no one is that heartless. Sheesh! I'm insulted," despite his words, Manny still had a shit eating grin on his face.
Beca found herself grinning crookedly back. "So," she cleared her throat awkwardly, embarrassed at her little outburst from earlier. "Where's that place you said we simply had to go for lunch?" Manny's grin got even wider and he held out his hand to Beca. She grasped his hand in her own, assuming it was going to be a handshake. She was, therefore, completely unprepared to be yanked into a surprise hug by the portly man and all but hefted into the air.
"This is going to be amazing!" Manny squealed in a surprisingly high-pitched voice. "Now let's go. This place has the most amazing Philly Cheesesteaks and steak fries outside of Philadelphia. Let's get some meat on those bones pipsqueak! While we're out, we can talk details about your contract."
"But first food?" Beca asked knowingly, wheezing ever so slightly from the bruising her ribs just took.
Manny's grin made another appearance and he agreed, "First food." Manny twisted his grip that was still wrapped tightly around the small woman's hand and tugged her after him as he all but bounded out of his office. Yup. Definitely an over-excited puppy.
"Oh my fucking god, this is fabulous," Beca all but moaned through a mouthful of Philly cheesesteak, her eyes closed in absolute bliss. Manny popped a handful of fries into his mouth and hummed in agreement.
When he'd finally swallowed, he said in a melodramatic voice, "I concur my dear Watson. Now you wanna talk details about your contract?"
"Really?" Beca asked incredulously as she daintily wiped her mouth with a napkin. "You want to talk business over cheesesteaks and Mountain Dew?"
"Can you think of anywhere better?" Manny asked with a snort as he sipped his own Mountain Dew pensively.
Beca chewed on a fry and finally admitted, "No, not really." Manny's face split into a grin. "And don't you forget it half-pint. First thing you should know about me, it's not business if it doesn't involve food. And seeing as we've clearly fulfilled the food requirement, it's now time for the business."
Beca wiped her hands on her napkin and looked at Manny apprehensively. "What exactly does that entail?"
"Well," Manny said dramatically, yanking a stack of papers from his bag. "You look over at this contact, grace its presence with your signature, and then we get milkshakes."
"Milkshakes, right," Beca said with a nod and a smirk. "Out of curiosity, do you often carry around contracts in your purse?"
"Purse? It's a satchel," Manny gasped indignantly.
Beca chuckled and said smartly, "It's a purse. Now hand over the contract Manny." Manny pouted slightly, his arms crossed across his chest but he handed the contract over anyway. He watched with an almost nervous look as Beca read over each and every page. Every now and then, she'd look up a term or phrase on her phone, but other than that, she was silent. Ten minutes passed this way, Manny looking on anxiously and Beca reading carefully. Finally, she leant back in the booth and regarded Manny with unreadable dark blue eyes.
Manny looked at her hopefully, his brown eyes sparkling and twinkling with barely contained anticipation. "Well?" Beca took a careful and deliberate sip of her Mountain Dew.
"It looks good," she finally said with a smirk.
"Yes!" Manny exclaimed, his hands thrown victoriously in the air. "Waiter! We require two celebratory milkshakes! One chocolate and one strawberry!"
Beca just smirked and shook her head at the afro-man. "You're crazy, you know that man?"
"Just crazy enough to work with someone like you half-pint," Manny said with a near giddy grin. "Now all that's left is for you to sign the contract and you and I are business like nobody else."
"Don't you think I should get a lawyer to look at this?" Beca asked, honestly wanting Manny's answer. She'd never signed a legally binding work contract with, well, anyone and she had no idea how something like this would work.
"Nah, you'll be fine," Manny said sympathetically and with a knowing smile. He'd seen more than his fair share of nervous artist and producer to-be's and he knew how to handle them. "There's a clause right there," Manny flipped through a few sheets and pointed to the fourth paragraph. "It says that at any point you can retain a lawyer and make any changes to your contract that you see fit. It's not our job to make your life difficult. We just want to help you make music and share it with as many people as possible."
"Okay," Beca let out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding. She really didn't know what the hell she was doing and while she knew she probably needed a lawyer, she didn't know anyone that could even begin to help her.
"Trust me Beca Mitchell," Manny said, his voice as serious as Beca had ever heard it. "We're not going to screw you over. I promise." Beca nodded uncertainly once again. Manny grinned widely at her and handed her a pen. Beca held it loosely in her left hand, twirling it uncertainly. "You can back out and cancel the contract at any time Beca," Manny repeated the words written in bold on the very first page of the contract.
"Alright," Beca nodded and scribbled her name on the line. "This isn't going to fuck me over is it?"
"Careful pipsqueak," Manny said with an over-exaggerated eyebrow wiggle. He nodded his thanks to the waiter who slid two milkshakes onto the table with a disapproving glare at Beca. "Families come here. Don't you start corrupting the youth of our nation until after I make you the next hottest thing," Manny finished off his statement with yet another eye wiggle and Beca responded with an eye roll. He took a quick sip of his strawberry milkshake while watching Beca tentatively take a sip of her chocolate milkshake. She nodded appreciatively while keeping her eyes warily on the man opposite her.
"So here's how this is going to work pipsqueak," Manny said with a grin as he sipped dramatically at his milkshake. "I work mainly in recruitment. There are basically three tiers of artists at TSR. Level 1 is the head honchos, your Ushers, your Miranda Lamberts, and your Maroon 5 type people. Level 2 is the well known throughout LA, usually working in the clubs and whatnot. Level 3 is the newbies trying to break into the business. You, my dear, are entering at a low Level 2 position which means you're going to rake in about $70,000 a year, depending entirely on how many shows you take. The more shows you perform at, the more money you get through us and through the clubs themselves and the more publicity you'll receive. It's basically a win-win. You already know that you get to stay in an apartment set up by us and you can stay in it for up to two years. You've essentially got six months to make your mark. We'll help you get gigs for that first month, you know show you the ropes and whatnot, but after that it's on you. You have to make your own contacts and start moving out of the TSR sponsored clubs so that we can move in new artists. If, at the end of a year, you haven't shown any signs or potential for growth, we'll sit down and review all this, okay?"
Beca's head was spinning but she nodded mutely. Manny smiled sympathetically at Beca's stunned look. "I'll send you an email with all this so you have it on hand, okay?" Beca nodded gratefully and sucked down some of her own milkshake. Twenty minutes of explaining just a few more details of the contract and drinking milkshakes later, and Beca and Manny were heading back out into the bright LA sunshine.
"So pipsqueak," Manny said with an impish grin that only got wider as Beca practically bristled at the nickname. "You ready to hit the ground running back at the mad house?" Beca took a deep breath, her eyes closed. When they snapped open, Manny was taken aback. Her usually impassive and unreadable navy eyes were flashing and glinting in determination.
"You know it."
Baby I'd give you my world
Open up
Everything's waiting for you
You can go your own way
Go your own way
You can call it
Another lonely day
You can go your own way
Go your own way
Thoughts? Good? Bad? Meh? ... Bueller?
I've actually got like the next five chapters planned out, which is shocking as shit to someone like myself. Usually I just wing it. Next Chapter, without too much doubt, will be the Bellas' reactions. Updates will still continue on Friday's probably like in the mornings or what not.
AND WE HAVE SUCCESSFULLY REACHED 50 REVIEWS! WHEEEEE!