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Two weeks went by, and I never heard from Chavem.

It's been two weeks of waiting by the phone, two weeks of late night panic attacks over the thought that I blew my chances for my future. It's been a hard two weeks, a dark fourteen days.

I was starting to think I made the wrong decision, turning that opportunity down to be the tour photographer. After all it was a very sweet deal; tour the world, see the crowds, see behind the scenes of the band. Who wouldn't want all of that?

The only thing that held me back was the band part.

To start off, I've met the singer/lead guitarist. I made out with the singer/lead guitarist. And the singer/lead guitarist is the biggest asshole I ever came across on this planet. So I can't imagine showing up on the first day locking eyes with him and seeing that look of doubt on his face—if he even remembers me that is.

Either way I don't think I could walk in day one and make it out of there without shitting my pants.

My panic attacks came from the idea that I possibly ruined my future from turning this down. I couldn't stand the idea that the decision I made wasn't the right one and now Chavem or anyone in the industry won't take me seriously. What if he thought I didn't want this career enough? There's probably so many photographers better then me that will take anything in order to get an edge. Who do I think I am to turn something like that down?

It was an opportunity, and opportunities can be hard but if I want to be successful then sometimes I got to do what I have to do in order to make it to the top. Galen told me what I needed to do to make submissions, but yet I turned it down.

I told my grandma about the situation, and she was shocked about how I rejected the offer. She thought that this is what I've been waiting for, so she was quite confused when I didn't take the chance. The thing is she doesn't know the real reason I turned down the job, she has no idea about the night I ran into the band at the concert and what happened. I didn't want her to know all that, because if she did she'd just make a bigger deal then needed to be about something that happened a long time ago.

I had an early shift at The Steam today, so it was about a quarter to six when I was rushing out of my house with my clothes half on and car keys dangling on the lanyard tangled in my fingers.

It was a dark morning, very gloomy. It looked like it was gonna thunder storm sooner or later. I unlocked my car and hopped in, shortly revving off to work to suffer another eight hour shift.

I was suppose to open alone today because it was Sunday, the deadest day of the week for the store. Opening at six is usually really busy for a weekday, but Sunday we open at seven. No one really started coming in for coffee until eight at the earliest. So for the first hour it was usually just me setting up the store until my partner came in at seven when it was open.

Within my short drive it started to rain, so when I pulled up in front of the store I sprinted to the door to try and avoid the water as much as I could. My hands fumbled with the wet keys to the front door, the rain coming down harder as I tried to match the key with the slot. The rain was pattering down my back, making my clothes stick to my skin in its irritating form.

I finally unlock the door and throw myself inside before shutting it behind me, the remanence of yesterday's caffeine intruding my airways. I run my wet hair back out of my face and flick on the light, taking a breather before walking deeper into the shallow cafe.

I hang up my coat, grabbing my blue apron and throwing the hole over my head. I pull my damp hair through it and shake it out a bit to make it a little more dry.

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