Page 141 of Paint the Town, Dove
“Not yet!” Scarlett suddenly appeared, turning to the man who asked. “But he will be, and you can say you were the first to see him before he hit platinum.”
“Alright lady.” He turned to his friend, but Scarlett had already climbed up on stage, grabbing hold of my hands, my face.
“You…” she lost her words. “You –”
“I did it, Dove,” I cried, holding on to her elbows, inhaling the rush of the moment, the song, thefeelingof performing.
The feeling of being noticed.
This…
I knew it then.
All of this – this life, it was mine.
Mine to breathe in.
Mine ‘til death’s end.
It belonged to me.
It was my purpose.
Scarlett was inaudible, reaching into her pocket, pulling out… uh, dice? “The um,” she wiped tears, “the bar has this thing where if you roll these, you get a discount on mystery shots. I just had this idea, you know, I thought we could roll it one day and take a vacation for as many days as the dice gives us. And then you sang and,” her eyes met mine, “you sang and I knew that one day, these numbers would take us to the Maldives.” She folded the dice in my hands, “You earned it,” and squeezed, “we earned it.”
Before I could say anything, Mr. Acton approached the stage with another man. He was dressed in expensive clothing. I could tell by the design. I’d seen models wearing these kinds of collared shirts, leather shoes. Only in posters, but still.
“Ryden Spectre,” Mr. Acton said with a smile. “You’ve got a great voice for someone who grew up around here.”
A new wave of confidence found its way to my throat. “Not much to do except try, right?”
“Right.” He nodded, lips curving. “Well, this here is my friend Pierce Standley. He manages small bands for the label at Avenue Records, up in New York City.”
Scarlett pinched my wrist, but this time, I…
I couldn’t feel a fucking thing.
Nothing –nothingexcept excitement.
Raw.
Pure.
Adrenaline.
Was this… actually… happening?
Did I finally – did I finally get my big break?
It never happens this fast, surely this is a joke?
Is this really –
“HE HAS FOLLOWERS!” Scarlett butt in, shaking Pierce’s hand. “I’m Scarlett Blake, his manager. I’d like to pull you aside and show you that he’s not a no-name, and he’d make you very, very happy.”
Surprisingly, Pierce found this amusing, allowing Scarlett to lead him to a table in the back where she immediately swiped out her phone, presumably showing Pierce the YouTube page flooded with all my covers and originals.
It was too dark to see if he was impressed.
