The Higher We Soar

12. Chimichanga

"I can't—I can't believe you did that!" I spat as soon as the door to the producer's office clicked shut behind us. "Why on this damn earth would you do that?!"

Sophie let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping as she moved toward her desk with slow, deliberate steps. She glanced at Maddox, her eyes flickering with uncertainty, silently questioning whether this confrontation should happen in his presence. Her hesitation was clear, but my anger burned too hot for me to care.

"What did you expect me to say, hm?" she asked, her voice unnervingly calm as she straightened her suit.

"I don't... I don't know!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in exasperation. I began pacing the room, nearly stumbling over a chair in my agitation. "Maybe that we'd think about it? That you'd discuss it with me first?! Not that it's a fucking brilliant idea! Because it's the worst idea you could possibly have!"

The producer crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her expression unyielding. "I know you're upset, Lennon, but can we try to discuss this in a more civilized and professional manner?"

I shot her a furious glare, biting back a retort.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I had no other choice, and you know it," Sophie said, her voice softening after a moment. "If Sterling wants Jordan, she'll get Jordan. If she wants a goddamn star from the sky above, I'll do anything to give it to her. This contract is too important for the studio to let any personal issues ruin it."

I sighed deeply, slumping into a chair and burying my face in my hands. "So that's it? Can't—can't we find a different shamisenist?"

Sophie leaned against the desk, a quiet chuckle escaping her lips. "You heard it yourself—they want Jordan Ueda. Anyway, maybe he won't agree and the problem will solve itself—"

"You're kidding, right?" I burst out laughing, unable to contain my disbelief. "You know he loves big projects like this. He'll never say no, even if he had to eat his damn oversized ukulele to get it!"

"Please, for the sake of your own career, don't ever call a shamisen like that outside my office," the producer said with a gentle smile. "And maybe it won't be so bad. If you're lucky, you won't even have to see him."

Before I could retort that Jordan wouldn't pass up an opportunity to comment on my compositions face to face, the rustle of falling papers drew our attention to the door. All my music sheets and notes had slipped from Maddox's hands, scattering across the floor. I suddenly remembered he was still with us, unusually quiet.

"Whoops! Sorry... " he chuckled, noticing our eyes on him. He immediately crouched down, scrambling to collect the scattered papers. "Don't mind me... or actually, since I've got your attention, I have a question. Well, maybe two. Three at most. Although we all know it'll end up being at least five..."

Sophie shook her head, a bemused smile playing at the corners of her lips. She turned to me, her eyes asking if we should indulge Maddox's inevitable barrage of questions. With a resigned sigh, I nodded, knowing there was no escaping his curiosity.

"Right. I've got some things to do, so I'll leave you to it," Sophie said, glancing at her watch. "Just... cool down a bit more, Lennon. We'll talk later, okay? You can stay here, but remember to close the door behind you when you're done."

She patted Maddox on the shoulder as she left. Once it was just the two of us, I let out a long, defeated sigh and dropped my forehead onto her desk. Talking was the last thing I wanted, but Maddox's persistence was a force of nature. It also felt like I owed him some explanation.

I heard him approach slowly. He carefully set the papers aside, then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, hopped up onto Sophie's meticulously clean desk near my head.