These Dark Stages // a.i.

One

Today is the day I've hit my limit.

It's honestly absurd that it's taken me this long to realize that I don't deserve to be treated like the dog shit on the bottom of someone's shoe, but the music industry is so fast-paced and laced with illusions to the point that if you're in too deep you don't notice the things you should be noticing. For so long I told myself to stick it out and get paid because in the long run things will work out, but I'm sick and tired of waiting to be treated like a human being, rather than a servant.

Not anymore, that's for sure.

"I quit," is the first thing I announce to my boss upon entering his office.

John Dealy looks up from his computer, seeming surprised not by the words I said but the way I barged into his office without any prior notice. John isn't a bad supervisor at all; in fact, I like him not just as a colleague but as a friend, and he's always been super supportive of my career so far. He gave me opportunities when no other record labels would, and he's an all-around nice guy who actually respects me.

"I can't deal with this anymore, John," I continue with my rant, sliding my backpack off of my shoulders and onto the ground. "I work my ass off all day long, only to be treated as his plaything. Do you know how many times in the last year he's come onto me? I'm sorry, but this just isn't in the job description and I won't do it."

"I understand," John nods, letting out a small sigh as he leans back in his chair. "He's one of our more... difficult artists to deal with, and it takes a certain type to work with him. I purposely put you on his team because I knew you're good at what you do, and if anyone could straighten him out it would be you."

"Well, I'm sorry—I suppose you overestimated me," I'm hit with a sense of failure alongside my raging anger because I should have been able to set him right.

Maybe I'm just not as good as I think.

"On the contrary, I think I overestimated him," John corrects me, and I can't help but feel a bit better when he does.

"Either way, I can't work with him anymore," I tell him, and John nods, glancing down at his desk. "So either you put me with someone else, or I'll have to go somewhere else."

"I'll be honest with you, Violet—I think you're talented at what you do, and it's not my intention to hand you over to rival labels anytime soon," John says, and he turns to his computer, typing on the keyboard for a few moments. "But since this is so... sudden, I don't think there are any jobs available. We haven't signed anyone new in recent weeks."

"I wouldn't mind waiting for something to come up," I put in as he continues to type away on his computer.

John doesn't say anything for a minute, and I just watch as he quickly looks through his computer—I'm assuming he's looking for jobs. While he does, I glance around his office, taking note of all the record label accomplishments he's made in his time here from platinum records to awards and trophies. Here and there are a few pictures of him and his wife, though the pictures look a little wonky given that she's petite and he's tall with broad shoulders.

"Alright, Violet—I don't currently have anything open, but I'll keep looking," John promises. "And, in the meantime, how about you go home? You've been on tour for what, a year? Go home, dust off the couch and relax."

"I guess I have forgotten what my mattress feels like," I admit, finally starting to feel good about where my life is heading.

So after John vows to call me the moment he has something, I leave the record label building, calling a cab to take me back to my LA apartment. When the driver asks me for my address, I falter for a second because I don't remember what it is, and I end up taking longer than necessary as I search through my phone for my exact address.

When I finally make it to my apartment complex, it takes me even longer to find the key to my door, and I end up sitting on the ground while dumping the contents of my backpack onto the ground to find it. When I finally manage to find it, I shove all of my stuff back into the backpack and stand up, unlocking the door and opening it to see my apartment, untouched and dark. I shuffle inside with my huge suitcase, nudging the door closed with my foot.

I flip on the lights, illuminating the kitchen and the living room, only to become exasperated when I realize how many lightbulbs are burnt out. Not paying it any mind, at least for now because I'll probably end up leaving here sooner rather than later when John finds me a job, I take my suitcase into my bedroom, not even bothering to unpack. I simply unzip it and leave it open on the floor, grabbing my comfy pants and a t-shirt and changing into them.

The rest of my night consists of me being glued to my couch, watching whatever I can find on Netflix because I don't pay for cable. I end up ordering a pizza after taking one look inside the pantry and seeing it practically empty—I swear there was more food in there when I first moved in. Then, when it's time to sleep, I sink into my bed, relishing the feeling of being at home and not having to set an alarm clock for once. It's truly the best feeling there is.

-

Despite not setting an alarm clock, my job has conditioned me to wake up early, and this morning is no exception. I try to go back to sleep at first, but I give up after thirty minutes, finally realizing that it just isn't going to happen. I make my morning coffee and stand on the balcony that overlooks LA while drinking it, doing nothing but taking in the familiar sight of the city.

John has always been known for getting shit done, and I get a call from him just later that afternoon.

"Violet, I've been asking around, and I finally found something I think you'll be interested in," John says when I answer the phone. "Now it's probably not going to be what you're used to—compared to the other artists you've worked with they're a little more lowkey, but I think you might like that."

"So who is it?" I ask him as I sit at my kitchen table, opening my laptop.

"A band called 5 Seconds of Summer. As I said, they're not that big yet, but if they keep the ball rolling they may become the next big thing."

"I think I've heard of them. Didn't they open for One Direction's stadium tour?" I remember that tour, and how so many people in the business were involved in that tour because it was so big.

"Yeah, they did. They're about to release an album and go on tour, and they need a manager. Not to mention they'll be staying in LA for a few months beforehand to promote the album. You up for it?"

I pause to think for a moment. At first glance it seems like a demotion, working with a lesser profile artist, but maybe it'll be a nice change. After two years of getting overlooked and mistreated, maybe this is a good move for my career.

"When do I start?"