When Monica saw my face, she raised her fists. "Who I gotta fight this time?"
I shook my head. "Let's go."
"Not until you tell me what happened."
I roughly sat down in a chair across from my cousin. "I don't know, Monica."
"You don't know what?" She inquired as she leaned forward in her chair.
I threw my hands in the air. "I don't know about this. Any of this! That woman just scolded me as if I was a child, like I was her daughter and disrespected her. No one has ever talked to me like that. After what she just said, it would be smart of me to just leave." My thoughts were running so fast that I couldn't find the next words to use.
Monica stood to her feet. "You talking about the CEO? What did she say to you?"
I sighed, "It doesn't even matter. I've been overlooking all the signs about this... this... this celebrity lifestyle and this career... and-and this industry. Monica, if I stay, I'll be a fool."
"What do you mean? This is your dream. You're going to give it all up over some stupid stuff she said?"
I took off my sunglasses as the tears tried to escape. I wiped my eyes.
"No ma'am!" Monica opened her bag and pulled out an ink pen and a small notebook. "Before you start crying and especially before I start beating people up, you gotta think this through." She put the pen and paper in front of me.
"I don't feel like writing a song right now."
Monica hit the table. "Jamie!"
I sat up straight.
She pointed at me. "Pick up the pen. I want you to write everything you dislike about being a singer. I'm giving you 30 seconds."
I rolled my eyes. "I don't want to write anything. I just want to leave."
"Don't be irrational. This is what I did when I was thinking about quitting YouTube."
I frowned, "YouTube is different. You're your own boss."
Monica tapped the paper with her finger and gave me a stern look.
"Okay." I picked up the ink pen.
"You got 30 seconds," she told me. "Are you ready?"
I nodded my head.
"Start," Monica told me.
I wrote down everything I disliked. Once my time was up, Monica told me to write everything I liked on the back on the paper. She timed me, again.
"Stop," Monica pointed at me.
I dropped the ink pen.
"Now, go back to the first page. Read everything you dislike. Then, count how many dislikes. You'll do the same with the likes. Got it?" She asked me.
I picked up the notebook and exhaled. "I dislike the CEO of RiSe Records, fake celebrities, the drama, the lies, doing interviews, being told what to say and do, spending money I don't have, living off of someone else, being in a fake relationship, not being able to go back home whenever I want to, not being in control of where I perform or when I release music, not knowing more people, not having friends, not..." I glanced at Monica. "That's when you told me time was up."
"Count how many that was and count the last not as a half."
After counting, I said, "Thirteen and a half."
"Your likes?"
I flipped the page and read, "I like writing songs, singing, performing, having hit songs, working with other artists (exclude Aja Frost), people recognizing my talent, meeting celebrities, living in a new city, I used to like wearing this wig and sunglasses, but I'm hiding myself which can be a good and bad thing... I counted 10."
Monica's eyes seem sad. "Did you run out of time?"
"I couldn't think of anything -- oh! I like that you're able to experience some of this with me."
"Okay. That's 11," Monica smiled.
"Technically, it's still 10, because I said I used to like wearing this disguise." I pointed at my hair.
Monica grabbed the notebook and read over it. She flipped the page as if she was looking for something. I wish I felt like laughing, because she was determined to do the most.
After a few minutes went by, Monica looked at me. "You really don't like it as much as I thought you would. The things you liked were separate from RiSe Records and Zeke. Cousin, I really don't think you should quit. And yes, I'm being selfish. Mostly because I don't have to do what you do. To be honest, I don't even understand your passion for writing songs and singing. Like, I never had a passion or even a talent like you do."
"Yes, you do!" I corrected her. "You are a social butterfly, and you've always made friends without trying. You succeeded in everything that required talking."
Monica chuckled, "I wouldn't call that a talent. That's just my personality. I guess YouTube is sorta my passion. I know I've had about a million and one jobs, but I didn't like any of them. I knew when I had to write a pros and cons list that I really loved making YouTube videos. I had 15 likes and 8 dislikes. I knew I just had to get out of my feelings on some things and handle my business. I stopped all the whining and made sure I got my LLC, No copyright infringement on me. I invested in the right things and stacked my paper to the ceiling. Now when anybody try to come for me, I'm ready. Let's go."
I smiled as I thought about A.B. Don't ask me why. My mind does what it wants from time-to-time.
"And did I say something funny?" Monica saw my facial expression.
I shook my head. "No. I just thought how helpful Zeke, A.B., and you have been. None of this would be happening without y'all."
"Exactly! That's why you have to stay in this." Monica spread her arms. "You're inside one of the RiSe Records studios. You live in Los Angeles. You have a driver - the best in all the land."
I stood up to my feet. "Call Maximo and tell him we're ready."
"He texted me that he was outside when you walked in."
I put on my sunglasses. "You're not being a good assistant, Monica."
"First of all, wrongness, I am your unofficial assistant. You gave me an alias - an ugly one at that."
I headed out the studio with Monica behind. "More walking, less talking, Monique English!"
When we got back to the Rivers' Residence, we packed our bags for New York. Monica was in the bed by nine o'clock. I don't know how she got done with everything so fast. I still had to shower. After doing so, I sat in the chair in the corner of my room and went through my checklist. Once I had everything checked off, I closed my eyes.
Do you really want this, Jamie? The more I asked myself that question, the more I thought about my future. Is this what I want to do for the rest of my life? Is this still my life in five years? I opened my eyes and got on my knees. I prayed for wisdom.