Never Let Them Define You

GETTING SIDETRACKED

"Wow, I'm used to you avoiding this place like the plague," says David, "but two days in a row? You're on a hot streak, Miss Nova."

"Please, please, you're too kind; this is all about passion. When I'm inspired, I'm inspired."

"Well, that seems pretty logical." He laughs. "So, what's the plan today?"

"More rehearsals; I have an idea for a duet dance."

"Any idea who you'd do it with yet?"

"I was thinking of doing it with Marco."

"Well, that's wonderful, just make sure to report everything to Josephine."

"Josephine?"

"Oh, did you hear? She got promoted to being a producer recently, which is great because she was working hard on that for a while. She insisted on helping you realize your dream with this project, I mean, I couldn't say no; she was relentless."

"Oh, um...are you sure there isn't someone else who can help produce it?"

"Something wrong with her?"

"Oh, no, no!" She shakes her head. "God, no." She chuckles. "I'm just worried that her lack of experience might negatively affect the production."

"Well, she has been taking classes for almost two years, and has had pretty extensive training with our senior producer. She's definitely got what it takes and based on her determination to work with you, I think there's no one who's going to bring more passion to your project than her."

"Okay, well, uh, wonderful! Isn't that just wonderful?"

"It is, isn't it?"

"Alright, ciao David."

He smiles, then turns around, and walks off jauntily.

She holds her smile even after he walks away. Just fucking wonderful. She sighs and throws away her smile, then walks towards the hall that leads to the elevator, and looks around as she moves through the building. Crown molding around the ceiling surrounds colorful floral patterns that go all the way down the long hall, the walls have geometrical and subdued art deco patterns that don't pop much to the eye, and the floor is just polished, white tiles. She looks up at the ceiling again and notices a torn bit that reveals the base roof, then she stops and notices something written, and squints to make it out.

"Meet me 12 501 - J," she mutters, "what?" She looks forward, then backwards and sees the hall is still empty, and looks up again to see that the writing is still there. Not crazy...but what does it mean? Is it even relevant? Her brain tells her to go perform and forget about it, but her heart has a leaning towards curiosity and she decides, against what may be her best interest, to explore it. 501, is that a room? The building uses those codes like an apartment, or it could be an apartment, or I could just be reading into it; so many possibilities.

She looks back and forth, keeps walking down the hall but now at a brisk pace, and reaches the elevator quickly. When she reaches it, she squints at the call buttons, tilts her head sideways, and keeps staring for a few seconds before pressing them. After it reaches her floor, she steps in, then hesitates her hand before the console, and keeps moving her finger back and forth between buttons eight and five. It's not right to pry, right? My mother always said, 'a snooper is a loser and a winner keeps it inner,' I mean, it's not the catchiest phrase now that I think of it, but still, maybe she has a point.

Boop! She holds her hands together and looks up at the ceiling while the whole room rises, elevating her towards fate, and setting her decision in stone. Don't know if this is right, but either way, I'm going to feel like I missed out. The higher she gets, the more she questions where she's going, and she watches the numbers rise as she does. two, three, four, five...and the door opens. Okay, well, let's see what's behind door number one. She looks both ways, steps out of the elevator slowly, then takes off and jogs towards the door, which is just across the lobby to the right.

She grabs the handle and shakes it around. Locked, of course, I guess I should have expected that? Maybe I was wrong, though; maybe I have no idea what that message meant and I should go work on my project. No, never mind, scratch that; think about what that homeless person said. Do you really want to be famous? I'm not going to be, I'm going to ruin everything and still be fine...thinking about that sentence makes my head hurt, wait, you really think that you can sabotage this and be fine? You think that you can put passion into this and you won't get famous?

You don't always get what you want Sandy, you need to grow up. A tear falls from her eye softly, she instantly wipes it off, and takes a deep breath. She hasn't seen her mother in years and can barely remember being called Sandy. Maybe I should try to reach out to her...but would she know what to do? No! She would just ruin everything like she always does, she'd make me feel like everything's fine somehow, and then she'd tell me I'm a failure and leave me again. She always does, ALWAYS, she's never once looked out for me; you remember what it was like when you were younger.

A memory takes hold of her, which she fights, but the harder she wants it to go away the more greatly she's sucked into it, and before she knows it she's right back under the covers. "Mommy?" She stays silent, gripping her blanket with sheeps and cows all over it, then pulls it down, and sees her mother standing before her in the darkness.

"What's wrong?"

Her mom's face is a blur, she can only make out her eyes and mouth, and she can still tell that she's frowning. "I heard a thud! Was that you?"

"Oh, yes sweetie, but don't worry; mommy's alright." She isn't looking at her anymore, she's looking down at the ground, and clutching something in her hand.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"You're a clever one; yes, I am, but don't worry, I'm gonna be alright, and it won't be for very long."

"Why are you going in the darkness?"

"Bad people might see me in the light, but they won't hurt me because they won't see me now."

"Why are there bad people?" She starts to tear up, but doesn't fight it.

"It's okay, baby." She holds her and sits down on top of the covers. "Life...isn't always fun or fair... sometimes you're gonna need to fight and fight and fight, and nobody's gonna cut you a break until it's over. Sometimes life is gonna make you prove your worth and no one else can help you, but even when it's like this, the people who have helped you are still gonna help you, because they'll be in your heart. That's the power of love, darling."

"Why is life like that? Why can't the people I love always be there?"

She looks up at the ceiling and slowly tears up too, then looks back at her, and holds her face. "Because in life...you need to be strong, like when you wanted that pony and I told you you couldn't have it; you cried so much at first, but you picked yourself up, and decided to make a pony out of cereal boxes."

She giggles and her tears fall faster than before, she tries to wipe them away but can't stop the flow, and she closes her eyes and nuzzles her face into her mother's shoulder.

"At the end of the day, when no one's there, all you'll have left is your creativity; you got to think your way out, love."

Her eyes flash back open, she stumbles, and catches herself as she holds her heart with her hand. She shakes her head, blinks a few times and realizes her face is covered with tears, then wipes them away quickly.

"Are you alright?" says a male voice.

"What?!" She jolts, then steps back as quickly as possible, but catches on her foot, twisting it, and she topples over to the ground. "AAAAAAAH!"

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I thought you were having a panic attack or something, uh, uh, I'll get help!"

"GOD, FUCKING, AAAAAH!!! OH MY GOD, IT HURTS SO..." She lets out a blood curdling scream and bites her tongue, which causes her to resume sobbing and curl up, holding her foot with her hands, and wailing like a baby. "MOM! I need my mom," she blubbers and her whole tone shifts to a pathetic mumble. "Mom, mom, I need my mom...ugh, I'm so useless, why..." Her mouth slowly drifts open and her eyes shut weakly.