Stand-in~~Bo Burnham

Chapter 6: "Learn How to Sign Autographs, Girls!"

Harper's POV

Stephen (the twelve year old shit I give piano lessons to) stuck his tongue out at me as his mom found the correct amount of change for my payment.

Restrain yourself Harper. Don't rip his hands off and shove them so far down his throat he'll give high fives out of his ass.

I smiled venomously and strode out of their apartment. As I walked back home--about six blocks away--I enjoyed the sunny day by ignoring it and checking my phone.

Zoey's text read: "God dammit Harper why is our fridge full of healthy stuff?"

I had an email from the director of the dance and drill team I helped out sometimes at a nearby high school that read: "Practice tonight at six. Be there or be square!" God, I hated high schoolers.

Finally, a voicemail from Jake that excitedly said: "Harper! I have awesome news. I was going to call Zoey, but you're infinitely more responsible--" at this I laughed. Me? Responsible? Have you seen how messy my room is? --"and I need you to call back right away. Man, you're going to love this."

This piqued my curiosity. Jake was too excited by whatever news there was to be nervous and awkward about calling me. That meant this was big. Hesitantly, I called him back, slightly worried about what ground-shattering news Jake could have to tell me.

Harper! This is important! I've always loved you! Zoey and I talked it out, and she's cool with us! Will you marry me?

I scoffed. My mind would wander in the strangest directions. After three rings, Jake picked up the phone as I rounded the corner to my apartment building.

"Harper!" He exclaimed.

"Yep, that's me. What is it that's so important and requires responsibility?"

"You know how I'm the stage manager at the New York Comedy Club, right?"

"Duh."

"And my boss, you know, he organizes all the stuff going on there, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"And we have a show this weekend, you know, just like the one last weekend with all the comedians together, right?"

"What are you...." I began, but then it dawned on me just as I entered the elevator next to Mr. Chian, our elderly and very very Asian tenant who lived below us. "Wait, you want us to--"

Jake bursted an interruption, like he couldn't contain himself anymore. "My boss wanted me to schedule you and Zoey for a slot!"

I screamed. It was a happy scream, ecstatic even. My apologies to Mr. Chian, who stared daggers at me.

"No way!" I shouted as Mr. Chian hastily left the elevator.

"Yes way!" Jake said, equally thrilled. "I booked you guys as the opening act. Well, that's what had to happen for the schedule to work out. Just like last time, a fifteen minute slot to fill."

By this time I'd reached the apartment, walking in with a grin on my face that warranted Zoey raising an eyebrow and drawing nearer to me to hear the conversation.

"When is it? This weekend?" I asked urgently.

"Friday night. You two actually have time to prepare!" I could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"This is great, Jake!" I exclaimed. "We'll do it!" I don't know why I was so excited. Maybe I was remembering how great it felt to be on stage the first time. Maybe Bo was right, this could go somewhere.