Encore

1 The Last Job

Light seeps through the orange curtains in my bedroom. It's closed with some clothing pegs binding them together, but light still manages to enter this decent space of mine. I try to open my eyes bigger, but hot damn, it burns.

I do the first thing I do every morning- reach for my iPhone. It's an extremely essential item, especially now that I'm working. The phone could ring anytime and to miss one call would mean to miss one job. I can't afford that. 

I type in my password and the phone unlocks. 10 texts. 2 missed calls. None of them from my editor. I put the phone aside, considering those other calls and texts as definitely unnecessary. They're probably just a bunch of 'I had fun last night!' or 'We should hang around my place some time." or "Let's get coffee and talk about my interview."

Swinging my hand to put the phone back on the bedside table, I accidentally knock over a glass of water- thank god it's just plain water. It pours on my carpet, dripping its last drops already. 

"Dammit, why must this happen to me?" I whine. The maid must've put it there so I could overcome the dehydration from my hangover. My legs move to touch the floor, making me sit up straight. I waste no time and make my way downstairs.

Sitting on the kitchen top, reading a book, is my little brother, Jeff. The one cleaning the top and yelling at him to sit somewhere else, is our maid, Diana. She notices me there and her face changes from annoyed to surprised. "Well you're up early."

"The hangover isn't so bad this time." I mumble.

"You know, the last time you had a hangover, you promised your mother to never drink again." Diana complains and wipes the table vigorously. "You're only 18 for god's sake!"

I shoot her a sleepy glare. "Diana, it's the job. If I want to get some good scoop, I gotta roll with them. Or at least pretend to."

She stops wiping and looks at me. I gulp. She says, "I hate your job."

"It has a shit load of perks, though." I say, grabbing an apple from the fruit basket. She sighs and continues her work.

"Alright then, I'm going to the head office. I'm getting my last job. And everyone will be happy once I finish it." I declare. I ruffle Jeff's hair and head back upstairs. He looks annoyed and shouts 'poophead' at me. Sweet boy.

xxxxx

"The boss likes your Nicki Minaj piece." Ashley says, walking with me into the Firepop head office. Firepop is a music slash entertainment magazine. Ashley is the big boss' secretary and also my closest friend. She's about 10 years older than me but acts like she's 10 years younger. She's a bit of an airhead. She hands me a cup of coffee and smiles.

"He should. I went through a lot of shit to get it done. That lady is a needy one." I groan.

"He said he wants to give you a bigger job." Ashley says. A bigger job? That could only mean one thing...

"Is he going to let me do the main article? The front page?" I ask urgently. Ashley refrains from saying anything further than she did, but fails to control that stupid smile of hers. I shout, "Oh my god! Front page!"

"I said nothing." Ashley shrugs. She walks to her desk as I walk towards the editor's place.

The editor's office is basically the coolest space ever. I love the posters plastered on the walls and the many records on the shelves. The room just feels so lively. But the editor is a sad case of manipulative-money-crazy-boss. Typical.

"I like your Nicki Minaj piece." He says, holding it in his hand. It consists of my view on her music and excerpts from my interview with her. I must say, it is well done. I smile, "Thanks, Joe."

He looks at me and squints his eyes. "Let's cut to the chase. I want you to do the front cover story." 

I give my best shocked face, screaming, "No way!"

"Yes way, Anna. Yes way." He laughs. "But it's going to be different from our other issues. It's a special issue."

Oh, this just gets better. "Special issue? On who?" I ask, feeling more excited than a hungry kid about to be fed food. It could be about...gee, I don't know. Bieber? One Direction? It could be any of those headline faces.

Joe shakes his head and say, "Not on who, but on what...it's a special issue on..." he rubs his hands together and smiles, "rock."

... "Rock?"

"You know, the genre rock. Specifically from the 70s. The whole ordeal of hard rock, glam metal and all that."

"Is that going to sell? I mean...rock is dead, no?"

"Anna darling, you have no idea. That was a legendary period. Led Zeppelin, Van Halen, AC/DC...they are legends."

"Yeah, but--"

"They are music. That was a glorious period for music." Joe rubs his big belly and shakes his head, probably reminiscing his days back in the 70s.

"But that--"

"Rock is never dead. A lot of people will grab a copy of that special issue. It's essential for rock lover, and rock lovers are cool people. Besides, we're Firepop. Anything we do sells." He winks.

Oh shit.

xxxxx

"I am so happy for you. Technically, you're handling the whole special issue!" Ashley exclaims, spinning in her chair. I sit on her desk rubbing my forehead. I moan, "Can't you see my dilemma here?"

She shakes her head. 

I sigh. "Ashley, I don't listen to music. You know that, right?" She nods. 

I continue, "And all these celebrities I interview are up and rising singers who use way too much autotune and repetitive words in their songs." She nods agreeably.

"And they're all the same. They want me to write good things about them but in the same time create controversional stuff about them."

Ashley sighs, "Get to the point, please."

"The point is, Ash, I'm about to write about a whole different type of celebrities. These guys are rockers and I'm pretty positive they're old. Or...dead! This genre is completely alien to me. It is easy to catch up with current music because they're all crap pop and basically the same shit. But rock?! It's been around for centuries! I don't know if I can do this." I vent.

"Easy, just do your research. And then interview them." Ashley comments. I reply, "It's going to take forever to research on this. It's a huge scope."

"Well, this is a huge opportunity for you. A special issue! If this works out, you're gonna be big!" Ashley fantasizes. "You're smart. Figure out something."

Oh that's right. She doesn't know I'm retiring. But I nod excitedly at her. this is, after all, my last piece. My masterpiece. This has to work. A few researches won't hurt. This will be just like any other jobs I had. 

I will rock this.

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This is a really shit chapter, sorry! It's one of those fillers, I guess. First chapter is already a filler... The next one would be better, I promise! x