Never Let Them Define You

TIME'S RUNNING OUT

"Hey, Cassandra!" shouts Ronaldo, who walks towards her.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in New York or something?"

He laughs and punches the air as he stops before her. "Alright, I know I'm all smiley and what-not, but this is just a mask, so sit down because I have something to tell you."

She grabs a folding chair from the wall and brings it out onto the floor. "I'm getting a bit worried now, what is it?"

"Okay, we haven't told everyone this and we'd appreciate if you would keep it under wraps for the time being, but...the business is going under."

"Oh...oh! Oh, uh, okay, I'm glad you've told me; why me before anyone else, though?"

"Well, speaking of New York, there's another branch in Albany."

"I've heard of it."

"We're having to close this one and several other locations due to budget cuts, but we want to keep you on our team, and we think you'd fight right in at that branch."

"Wait, you want me to move to New York?"

"I can understand this is probably shocking, so there's no rush, I'm not asking you right now; you can take some time to think about it. I'd highly recommend it, though, since it's one of the densest and richest cultures of anywhere in the country, especially for a multi-talented performer such as yourself."

'Well, I don't know, I just..."

"Look, between you and me, there's not a lot here; it's a city of cars. I understand it's your home, but I'm not sure I'd be able to keep managing you if you stayed here. Unless you have another reasonable business that you'd be able to work for, but I'm not sure there's any that aren't going down."

"Um..." That annoying guy. "There is!"

"Really? How have I never heard of them?"

"It's a startup, but it seems promising."

"Okay, well, I'll trust your judgement; see if you can get a contract going with them, and I'll be back in two week's time to get your answer." He walks away briskly.

What did he say it was called again? I'm sure I'll remember on the way home. She grabs her stuff from the table, pours another cup of water, and chugs it before tossing it in the trash and taking off. Marker boys? No, that wasn't it at all...I mean, it was something like that, just NOT that. When she arrives at the elevator, she presses the button and awaits the elevator, then sees a few suits walk out whispering in worried voices. "You don't need to whisper anymore; I know," she states while walking into the elevator, then their volume increases to a normal speaking level. "They actually took my advice," she mutters.

After making her way into the lobby, she sees David, and squints at him. He makes a defeated face and continues talking to a journalist, then she heads out the door, and heads home. Hope they're still open, I mean, it's been a while since that guy approached me about it, and I never showed. I still have a good feeling though; even though it seems like everything's falling apart, I think it's coming together. God just has a flair for the dramatic, that's all. She rubs her face and tries to keep her eyes on the road, but a wrenching feeling in her chest makes it hard to focus.

"You betrayed me," says Marco.

She sees someone in the passenger seat from the corner of her eye. "No, I didn't! How could you-" She looks over and sees no one, then furrows her brow, and shakes her head. She brings her eyes back to the road, noticing that she's shifted into the other lane and sees an incoming vehicle, hears a horn cry, and swerves back on track. God, I need to get this show over with. I'm going mad, been going mad, and I know that nothing will be resolved until I snip the loose ends and burn it all. Let's pray this is all worth it.

When she arrives home, she rides up another elevator to her floor, then meanders towards her room. She unlocks, opens the door, and jumps on the couch; she reaches over to the coffee table and grabs a phonebook. I got a phone after Marco died...that buffoon's technophobia must have had some kind of subconscious influence on me. I mean, he pulled a gun on me, anyways, so that just makes him all the more of a hypocrite. She flips the pages until making her way to the M's, then begins scanning through them.

'Mentorship Inc.,' no, 'Made for Pain,' what the hell is that? Nevermind, 'Marketplace,' no, it's gotta be in here somewhere. She reads all the M's, then starts over and reads them more scrutinously, until she finds it. 'Marquee Brothers,' that was it! Okay, just gotta go there and see what I can do; hitches be gone. She walks over to the little table beside the door with her record player and phone, then picks it up and slowly dials in the number, and holds the transmitter to her mouth.

After a moment, an operator asks, "Who are you trying to reach?"

"A business under the name of, 'Marquee Brothers.'"

"Just a moment, please...we're sorry, but the line you're trying to reach has been disconnected; would you like to make another call?"

"No, no, that's all...well, actually, can you connect me to Josephine Baker?"

"Just a moment, please."

A nearly silent crackling is all that's audible, then Josephine asks, "Hello? Who's there?"

"It's me, Cassandra."

"Oh, really? Wow, I'm not used to you calling me." She chuckles. "What is it?"

"I need you to get everyone together for tomorrow."

"What, you mean the whole cast?"

"Yes, it's now or never."

"What does that mean? Never mind, I'll do it."

"Thank you so much."

"My pleasure..."

The phone cuts to silence, then she places it on the table again.