The Opening Act

Chapter 2

My mind was racing and blank at the same time. I was overwhelmed with all this information. I didn't know what to do. I felt numb as I walked into my house. My mom was in the kitchen yelling at someone on the phone. She is a lawyer for some big law firm, so I don't get to see her much. It gets a little lonely, but at least I can play my music as loud as I want.

I walk towards her to try and talk with her about everything. I grabbed an orange from the counter and slowly started peeling it as I waited for her to get off the phone. This happens every time I get the rare chance to see my mom.

My mom angrily hung up the phone and ran her fingers through her hair. "Some people are idiots."

"Was that work?" I asked trying to start a conversation.

"Yes, they have morons working for them."

"You work there," I say jokingly.

She cracks a smile. "Except for me. How was your day?"

"Actually, it was pretty interesting. I was walking around bored, and I ran into one of the people whose songs I sing. It was really strange, but I was offered to be an opening act with him."

"What?" she asks disbelievingly. "Like in one of your little daydreams you always tell me about?"

"Yes, but this was real." I don't understand why she is just brushing this off.

"Well, how are you gonna do that with school? You have a very busy schedule, and you should be thinking about colleges. Have you applied to the ones I told you to?"

I look away. I don't want to go to the ones she picked out. I haven't really planned out where I want to go, but I know I want to major in something with music. "I take online college classes for half of my classes, and the other half aren't very demanding. I could work on my music while I'm not in class or doing work just like I do now just more . . . professional."

"What are you talking about 'your music?' You mean your silly little covers?"

"Yes, mom. I was actually recognized for my 'silly little covers.'"

"You're eighteen, so you can do whatever you think is right. But you need to be careful. I deal with people in the music industry and they're . . . different. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"Don't worry, mom. I'm a tough girl. I can handle it."

A small smile creeps onto her face. She gives me a hug while she says, "Then, go for it."

My mom is tough at times, but she can be really sweet. She's a pretty good mom once you get past all the overprotectiveness of her.

Now that my mom thinks I should do it, the only thing that's left to do is make it official. I pull out the business card Ms. Davis gave me earlier and call her. She answers right away and tells me to meet her and the boys at a studio tomorrow to work on songs. I go to bed dreaming of the crazy times ahead of me. What did I get myself into?