Chapter Twelve

If I close my eyes and think hard enough, I can feel the soft texture of the paper contract under the tips of my fingers. I can imagine my heart racing as I think about the possibilities this will bring me, the sense of freedom and excitement for a fresh beginning. If I think long enough . . . I remember where I am, stuck across the road.

The tall building known as the record label feels like a gigantic monster staring me down. If I move, it'll leap forwards and swallow me whole. I can't walk, I can't move, I'm just, suck. I wanted to move, my whole body screamed for me to move . . . but I just remained the same.

My mind has a billion thoughts racing through about everything and anything. My brain screamed at myself to get moving, to stop being that pathetic girl who makes too many excuses on the sidewalk and to just bite the bullet. I couldn't keep making more and more excuses until the point where there was nothing left . . . I didn't want to be that girl.

Yet, here I am, losing a fight for control I couldn't seem to gain.

I couldn't stand on the sidewalk forever, it's getting cold. The hair on my arms stands attentive as the cold wind nips and bites at my exposed skin. I hate the feeling of my nose being cold, yet right now, it was like ice attached to my face. I couldn't wait forever, yet I seemed to be.

My videos weren't that popular, nothing extravagant. So, I certainly couldn't expect them to wait forever. I wasn't important that everything was worth throwing aside. I was no Taylor Swift . . . I wasn't worth fighting for or even waiting.

Jason knew I wasn't worth the wait or even the effort to make me shine like polished silver. If I kept waiting or gave the record label time to mull over their decision, perhaps they'd learn the harsh truth of the situation, I wasn't anything spectacular.

Oh gosh, I really couldn't keep doing this to myself. The pity party ping pong ball that jumped between my feelings was out again. I'm tired of chasing it all over the place, it's exhausting. Dealing with how I feel is like a full-time occupation most of the time. Right now, I want to switch them off and get rid of them.

The one thing I loved about writing music is that it's like you can get rid of your emotion. Somehow, writing felt like pouring a bottle of water out – instead of water leaking from the content, it was the emotion flowing through my system.

When I wrote about my feelings on paper, it seemed to hurt less. I could grab the piece of paper and file those feeling away for another moment of time. Sure, there was a numb feeling subsiding inside of me, but it beat having to feel sometimes.

I told myself I owed it, so I should do this. I'm throwing that stupid ping pong ball across the road so that I can chase it down and dance with victory, as I prove myself wrong. So, here goes nothing!

Taking a deep breath, I exhale my nerves and mentally harden up. I think about how well this meeting will go and the many joys it will bring to my life. By thinking positively, it makes my hyped for the meeting ahead.

I cross my arms over my chest and take the first step forwards. While it feels hesitant and shaky, I force my other left to keep in motion as I make my way across the quiet road. I keep up the same momentum to walk across the pathway and grab the door.

As I reach for the handle, the door suddenly springs open and makes me jump backwards. However, the solid body walking out of the building manages to collide into the side of me.

"I'm sor-" I look up and notice the person standing in front of me. "Jason," I mutter.

"Lola?" he questions. "What are you doing here?" The soft look on his face quickly hardens by my presence. His angry appearance almost looks sinister, the kind that sends chills to my heart.

As Jason towers over me, the pity party ping pong ball bouncing inside of my head is gone. Instead, I feel those doubtful feelings replace with a red hot iron gut and an unshakable feeling of courage.

"I'm not afraid of you," I growl, a deep frown overcoming me.

"Oh, but you should be afraid," he taunts. The way Jason says my name is gross. I feel like a creepy spider is crawling over my skin, yet I don't know how to shake it off. I try not to let that affect me, but it's hard to push the spine tingling feelings away from me.

"I'm tired of you standing in my way, Jason. I won't let you stand in the way of following my dreams. I'm done with you," I sneer.

"Tut, tut, Lola," he teases, a triumphant grin on his face. "I'm not done with you, but I could be . . ."

"What are you talking about?" I frown.

"Do you think the record label will want someone like you? Someone who picks on innocent people? I could share this video and ruin your reputation. I know people," he threatens like a shark circling his prey.

"You wouldn't." I gasp.

"Of course, I would." Jason grabs his slender phone from his pocket and unlocks the devices. He pulls up the video and smiles. The sight sends me shivering, I can't, no. I don't doubt he knows people in good places. I think he could destroy me if he had the chance.

"Fine," I sharply snap, disappointment sliding through my veins.

"Promise me you won't come back, Lola."

"I promise, Jason," I reply. "I won't come back here."

"Good, Lola. I promise not to share the video." He quickly pockets his phone and drops the act.

"Bye Jason," I mutter under my breath.

I turn my back on Jason, just as I turn my back on the record label and my disappearing future. There were no more excuses to be made, I tried.

Despite failing myself, I'm peeved I didn't get the choice to decide if signing up with the record label was the right choice to make for me. I hate that it was suddenly ripped out of my hands like a toy being snatched by a jealous, self-loathing toddler. I didn't like being backed into a corner with nowhere to go.

He can take my choice here, but he will no longer decide anything else from me. I can feel the determination manifesting inside of my chest. Perhaps coming to the record label wasn't for me to get a deal, but to learn another wonderful lesson in life. I needed to learn to stand up for myself, to stop letting tyrants like Jason belittle me with fearful threads. I needed to look danger in the eye. I needed to become the predator.

Without sulking, of closing onto the sidewalk, I hold myself somewhat proud. I could break down in the comfort of my apartment. I stride down the sidewalk as I travel back to the safety of my apartment. As my feet hit the ground with a low thud, the burning inside my chest intensifies. I wanted to be better than Jason.

Maybe Jason is really doing me a solid. Now I can spread my wings and try something else in life. There are plenty of other places around here . . . I didn't need him, and I certainly didn't need them.

I open the door to my apartment block and walk inside. I quickly walk up the stairs by taking two at a time. As I get part way, I look up from the steps and see Kol up ahead.

"What are you doing here, Kol?" I call out.

"I came to see you," he replies, a bright look consuming his face.

"Oh." I tug on a weak smile.

"What's wrong, Lola?" He runs down the stairs and attentively wraps his arms around me. I snuggle my face into his chest let the tears stream down my cheek.

"I just, uh." I frown. "I ran into Jason at the record label," I explain.

"What were you doing there?" he asks.

"I was offered a deal at my old recording studio, but I decided to turn it down." The look of concern drops from his face.

"Why?" His voice is annoyed, a testing tone about it.

"Because I can't spend my time worried about Jason all the time, Kol. I need to branch out and do something else," I say.

"I can't believe you're throw away an amazing opportunity away. What if you don't get anything else? What will happen then?" he asks.

"I'm sorry, but this was my choice to make."

"Is Jason really worth risking everything?" He raises his eyes brows. "I thought we were a team, we could have worked something out."

"Not with Jason, Kol. Jason works for himself," I explain.

"Apparently you do as well." Kol runs down the stairs and slams the door open to make a hasty escape. I contemplate chasing after him, but I know it won't be any good right now. He's angry, I'm upset, we're damned if we keep talking with our emotions running free.

Instead, I continue walking to my apartment and slip inside. I dump by bag by the door and walk straight to my piano and plot down.

I'm done making excuses for myself and for anyone else. I just hoped Kol would respect me on that.

Running my fingers over the keys, a single tear runs down my face and splatters against the piano keys.

"Silly me, I thought I could have the world," I sing. "But silly me, I forgot about the consequences." I close my mind off to the world and let in the hurt. I'd channel it onto the paper so I'd no longer hurt anymore. I'd take away my pain once more.

I didn't want to lose Kol as a casualty, but I feel I might have lost him.

Question: Has anyone ever made decisions for you?