Copyright (c) 2013. All rights reserved by the author.
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"Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light."
- Helen Keller
I walked off the stage with flushed cheeks and a pounding heart. As I was putting my guitar back into its case, I heard a heavily American-accented voice say: "Miss White?" I spun round to see Suit Guy standing a few metres away from me.
"Yes?" I asked.
"I'm Mr Roberts, of White Tiger Records. I wanted to congratulate you on your performance," he smiled, "and to tell you some good news."
"Yes...?" I replied, not wanting to get ahead of myself.
"I would like to offer you a contract with White Tiger."
You know how in those movies, the camera blurs everything and mutes all the background noise and starts playing an appropriate type of music? Well that was happening.
In my head, of course. I'm not in a movie!
But out of all the intelligent and sophisticated things I could have said, like 'I'm delighted by your proposal and I, of course, accept. When do we begin?' Or 'I'm glad you liked my performance! Should I give you my email!' my brain decided to flip out and shut down, causing me to revert to my back-up response to everything:
"Who? Me? Are you sure?"
As soon as I said that, I wanted to slap myself. With a baseball bat.
Suit Guy - sorry, Mr Roberts - smiled, as if he was used to getting reactions like mine, and replied in a teasing manner.
"Is there anyone who goes by the name of Emma White in this room?" He laughed.
"No, sorry, I just thought - did you say contract? As in making-songs-and-recording-music contract?" I stuttered, still slightly shocked, as I'm sure he could tell. Some people may not have been able to understand my reaction, but my main goal in life has never been to become an artist and sing. As far as I can remember, the only thing I have ever wanted to become is a doctor. Well, apart from when I had this weird phase in year one when I wanted to be a platypus (but that's another story). It was a strange year, that year. Very strange indeed.
"Yes, I do mean contract as in making-songs-and-recording-music contract. We would have to check with your parents of course, since you're still a minor, but I'm sure they won't have any qualms about this. They are aware of your talent, I suspect?" He asked. It was more of a question than a statement. A question which I did not know the answer to. When I first started guitar, in year four, my mum told me that it was because she wanted me to do something musical as an extra-curricular. However, the real reason for me starting guitar was most probably so I could put something on my UCAS form when I was doing my A-levels.
Sad, but true.
But in the end, I really loved playing guitar, so I kept at it until, in year ten at the ripe old age of fifteen, I finally reached grade seven. Since 7 was (and still is) my lucky number, I couldn't really be bothered to do any more after that. So my mum's been trying to convince me to do grade 8, one week after we received the news that I had gained a distinction.
"Yes, I do guitar outside of school as well, so my parents know about my high level in guitar. I don't go to a singing club though, so my parents probably won't expect that part of the news." I was speaking automatically now, the words just flowing out of my mouth.
YOU ARE READING
Autumn Leaves
RomanceEmma and Michael have been best friends since before they can remember. Of course, there have been other friends, but they both relied on each other for nearly everything. However, what Michael doesn't know is that Emma has been harb...
