Decisions

Part 3: The Struggles We Face

At eleven o'clock the following morning, Ewan waits patiently for his interview. It hadn't been his idea, but he was hounded by the local newspaper as well as his manager, of course, his manager fully entrusted him to carry out the interview and is therefore not present. Ewan sits quietly in his motor-home trailer, by him himself as normal, heavily debating on picking up his rustic guitar and hashing out a few lyrics for a song he is currently writing. Perhaps he should be working on the song he has been asked to sing for the wedding. His friend, Oliver, practically begged him to sing at the wedding, and with Ewan running low on cash, he reluctantly agreed.

A small knock on the outside door signals the possible arrival of Ewan's interviewer. If his thoughts had been any deeper, he might not have heard the soft sound. The lounge area in his trailer is relatively close to the door. He gets up and crosses to the door. Upon opening it, he notices a young woman standing patiently, yet nervously, outside. The woman looks to be around her early twenties and he has the strangest feeling he knows her. He spies the reporter badge clipped in the belt-loop of her jeans, and the shoulder bag resting limply on her shoulder. "You must be the reporter."

She offers her hand, confidently, for him to shake. As he does, he can feel her icy fingers. "Yes. My name is Emma Cassidy." He motions for her to enter, holding the door as she slips past, eager to escape the cold and wet outdoors.

"I know a Hannah Cassidy. Do you know her?" He asks, sitting down in the same spot on the couch as he had been in before her arrival.

"Indeed." Emma nods with a smile, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch. "Hannah is my sister." She removes her bag, placing it on the floor, and retrieved a notepad and recorder from within. "I believe you are the musician playing at her wedding if I am not mistaken."

"You are correct," Ewan states while feeling more formal than usual. He can tell that Emma feels out of place but trying to find a confident formal attitude to bring to the interview. He wonders why she would be nervous and uncomfortable with this interview. Perhaps she is not this type of interviewer. "Shall we begin, Ms. Cassidy?"

"Emma, please." She corrects, slightly shocked at someone calling her such a formal name. She laughs. "Everyone just calls me Emma."

"Alright, Emma. You may call me Ewan as well." He offers and she gives a polite smile in return.

"May I record our interview?" Emma asks, motioning slightly to the small recorder in her hand. "This is not my normal field of work, and I usually miss certain details. With such an interview, I would hate to miss details or misquote facts." She voices nervously. Ewan nods in acceptance, pleased that she asked first. Most reporters he has dealt with are pushy and seek out details whether they are said or not. He gets the feeling that Emma is not that way. She places the small recorder between them. "I figured we could start with the simple basic questions to get us going." She looks up at him with her dark brown eyes. He can see a hidden pain behind them; something dark, and that has been eating away at her for years. It is a look he can relate to, which is why he can easily pick it out amongst the unfortunate souls near him. It may not be the same sadness, but it is sadness nonetheless in some form. He wants to ask her about it, but he knows it would be far too personal of a question for someone he just met. He feels like he wants to protect her from it as a brother would to his little sister. "When did you first know you wanted to be a singer?" She asks, settling into the simplest of questions and finding it easy. It isn't the question she asks that intrigues him, but rather how she asks the question. Usually, reporters ask questions mainly because they want the dirt, but Emma is asking as though she is truly curious and interested. Perhaps she is. He likes this about her.

"I came out of the womb singing," Ewan replies sarcastically, causing her to laugh. "Just kidding." He shrugs, falling into ease of conversation. "I was a freshman in high school when I picked up a guitar. I fiddled around with it for a while, just making up random songs, trying to make people laugh. When I was a Junior in High School, I felt a push to get interested in learning and felt the draw of it was what I wanted to do."