Supernova

Chapter 2 You Should Get an Agent

"Hey," Michael said, plopping his tray down next to my crumb-infested Ziploc. I help out my hand, and he put his apple in it. "Sup?"

"Oh, the usual. Fair warning, there are a couple of wannabe valley girls glaring at us from a few tables over."

"What'd you do, show them what a great songstress you are and show them up?"

I rolled my eyes, and let a small snort out of my chapped lips. "Apparently we stole their table."

He nearly choked on his food laughing. "How sweetly did you burn them?"

"I told them sitting next to me would do wonders for their social lives."

Michael chortled. "Ain't that the truth!"

"Hey!" I lightly punched his arm.

"I'm telling you, just enter that talent show next Friday and you'll have all sorts of Valley Girl Wannabes flocking to you."

I rolled my eyes. "Ughhhh, stop it. I'm never going to be some big-bucks singer, okay?"

He looked me in the eye, not letting it go. "You should get an agent."

"And where will I pay for one?"

"Don't agents just take ten percent commission for whatever you make? You don't pay him unless you get a gig."

Eager to say anything for him to drop it, I muttered "Fine, I'll go to the library later and find someone."

"That's the spirit!"

I might as well find someone, my left brain told my right. What's the worst that can happen? Getting tips on a street corner?"

Much worse things could ensue my right brain cautioned. Much worse.

I dimly wondered which side was going to be right.

Turns out it was my right, not that I would figure it out quickly enough.