Chasing the Dream

Living the Dream

*Author's note: Pre warning - this story is going to be tough from the get go. If you are sensitive to violence, sexual natured scenes and inappropriate language etc, please do not read this story.*

"Don't even go there. It's been hectic today. Just another bloody day at the Brass Monkey though, eh?" My voice croaked slightly and I sighed. "So much for living the dream."

"Don't be silly. You're doing fine, and our EP is doing okay, it's all good."

Ciaran tried to comfort me, but I just feel as though I've left my family, friends and... Well, my whole life behind for nothing. Music is my passion, and I just want to inspire others, as others have done for me. It's just hard when you have a job you can't enjoy because your boss is an asshole. He knows how much I need this job and I can't help but feel like he takes advantage of that.
Don't get me wrong, playing on the live nights here in the bar with our band increases our reach. And the fact that Mr Hayward's brother is the Managing Director at Lava Records, and he's promised to get us a meeting is exciting, but it just doesn't seem worth it right now.

"Alice? Oi." I heard cracklings from the other side of the line.

"Gimmie the phone, I wanna talk to her... Alice, stop it. I know how you get. Just pull yourself together woman! We all love you, as our future fans will."

I couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Thanks, Mark. You always know how to chee-" my voice trailed off. The cheer instantly left my body. "Uh- I've gotta go" I cut him off, slipped my phone into my pocket, and followed instruction. My dirt bag of a boss had appeared in the doorway of the staff room, and using a hand gesture, ushered me towards his office. I walked in ahead of him, silent. He closed the door behind us, and I hoped I wouldn't hear it.

Click

Fuck.

My body tensed up at the sound of the door locking, and that all too familiar fear came flooding back.

"Now then, Alyssa." I hated people calling me that. "Alyssa, Alyssa, Alyssa." He walked around me in a circle looking me up and down as he did. "What am I going to do with you?" He paused. "I heard that you weren't happy about your hours being cut. Awww." Why does he have to be so patronising? "We could always... Make an; arrangement" He sniggered as he slipped his grimy hands up my shirt onto my back. It made me shudder and I stepped away from him.

"No."

"No?"

I sheepishly put my head down. "Can you please unlock the door so I can leave the room now. My break has finished. I need to get back to work" I turned and started for the door but he grabbed my wrist, pulling me back.

"I don't think so, petal. Remember, you owe me."

I squeezed my eyes shut as he pushed me up against the wall by my throat. I squirmed, clutching at his hand. I tried kicking out at him, it was just instinct. I knew it would just fuel his fire; but I wanted him off me, I wanted him gone and I wanted out of that room right that instant. He finally released his grip a little, then threw me towards the door, causing me to hit my head on his filing cabinet. He then grabbed me, pulled me to my feet vigorously, and spun me so I was facing him dead on. He grinned, seeing the fear in my eyes.

"Okay, I'm sorry! I'll take the hours cut. Just let me go." I pleaded as I felt my now puffy eyes streaming, and I could feel this warm liquid running slowly in my hair line.

He released my arms and laughed in my face. I could smell the cigarettes on his breath. "You're going to take the hours cut either way, honey. I'm the boss, so you do what I want." He paced over to his desk picking up a box of tissues and throwing them at me. "Clean yourself up. You got a little..." he gestures to my head. I raise my hand to my hair and sure enough, I'm bleeding. I must've hit my head on the cabinet pretty hard. I patted at the small wound; I couldn't help but cower as he approached me. "Pathetic" he scoffed at me, and back handedly slapped me. "Get out of my sight." Crying, I unlocked the door and only opened it a crack before he slammed it shut, his arm over me. He lowered his voice, to almost a whisper. "Remember, I own you." If anything, this instilled more fear in me than when he yelled and shouted. I nodded silently, opened the door and scurried off to the toilets before he got worse.