Out Of My League (Under Revision) (Book 1)

Chapter One - Revised

What is the definition of crazy?

Is it the simple fact that someone would go on top of a McDonald's table and moon the whole fast-food restaurant or is it the other simple fact that someone is just not in their right state of mind?

I don't know which one I was. I'm more of a person that's in between those two concepts of crazy. I have not yet built up the stupidity to show my ass in public and I have not yet had to get treatment for a serious mental illness.

But trust me, I have experienced some events that can be referred to as crazy.

"Elliana!" I heard, which was enough to break me out my mental reverie.

"Yes, Jane?" I asked.

My manager does not have a patient bone in her body. Maybe she was full of life at some point, but that's nonexistent now. She has two smiles — one for negotiating and one for manipulating. I trust neither.

Regardless of her god-awful behavior, she likes this job — even if remotely. She claims there's a thrill from making things go her way in certain meetings. Even so, another manager would be an upgrade as long as it's not Jane.

"If you could stop daydreaming and focus on me for five seconds, that'd be great." She said.

"I'm sorry, Jane." I apologized. "I'm just tired."

"You're always tired, sweetheart." She commented, rolling her eyes.

"Now, back to business." She said. "James Hayes is at Trilton Hotel. Personally, I don't understand his image. I think it's wretched, but the label thinks that your sweetheart image and his former bachelor image would go good together. They said something about "Hollywood's Sweetheart changing the mind and heart of America's bachelor playboy". It sounds like shit to me though."

"You think everything sounds like shit." I say.

"Well, this particular idea sounds more shitty to me than most things, then." She visibly cringed, even going so far as to scrunch her eyes slightly.

"Disregarding James," I say, "Is there anything else of importance that you maybe wanted to discuss?"

"Oh! Yes, I did!" She exclaimed. "You have been nominated to sing at next year's Super Bowl." For a possible second, I swore my heart had skipped some beats or just that maybe every limb had been paralyzed.

There was a point in time when I hadn't dreaded the sport so much — that was 5 years ago. Every single time football or the event subject related to football came up, I walked away. It's not that I didn't like the game. It's the fact that football conflicted me.

It's the fact that the sport itself was a memory for chaotic disaster.

"Really?" I blinked in surprise. This was the last kind of news I expected to receive today. If anything, I expected to be told that tour dates needed to be moved around before we announced them.

Leaning my elbow on the table, I cradled the top of my head into my hand before running it through my hair. The idea of this situation was already inducing anxiety. So much anxiety, I could feel it pressing heavily in the pits of my stomach, nearly forcing me to run to the bathroom.

"Yes!" Jane exclaimed, excitedly. "Now, since I am your manager, I already told the main executives that should you be the one to be chosen to perform, you'd already agree." She smiled, and I smiled back, but God, did I want to slap her at this moment.

Maybe that was one of the things I hated the most about this line of work. Choices should always be there at a person's whim and tell, yet they were nonexistent in front of me.