Career Suicide and Family Drama

A few days after Election Day, I went into the Revelation Records building to work on my album. However, on my way in, I spotted Alan and Cassidy in one of the meeting rooms. Out of sheer curiosity, I poked my head into the room to see what was going on.

"You must be joking," Alan said. "Why would you want to leave Revelation Records?!"

"There are a lot of reasons," Cassidy said in her Southern drawl. "I just feel like you haven't done a great job managing my band, and I think we might be better off on our own."

"What are you talking about?" Alan said. "I've always done a great job promoting you guys. It's my job."

"I beg to differ," Cassidy said. "You always took the better producers and the fancier equipment for yourself when we were recording Catharsis Effect."

"Fine, but I did everything I could to promote your band," Alan said. "I can't give all of my best resources to a new band."

"Then why didn't Catharsis Effect sell?" Cassidy asked. "We're losing money on the album, Alan."

"I didn't think you were," Alan said. Cassidy took out a sheet of paper and slapped it in front of Alan. He immediately turned pale. "This can't be right. All of the other albums Revelation Records has released have sold better than that."

"It's all your fault," Cassidy said. "If you had promoted our album properly instead of making yourself the star of all of our videos, we might have had a shot."

"Listen, if you stay with Revelation Records, we'll give you another shot," Alan said. "Your next album will take off for sure. National Nightmare is a great band, and you guys will be superstars if you stay with us."

"I don't believe you," Cassidy said.

"Why not?" Alan asked. "I've never been dishonest with you."

"You made this exact same argument when we first signed to Revelation Records," Cassidy said. "I trusted you the first time, but I'm not making the same mistake twice."

"It's not a mistake, Cassidy," Alan said. "We need you here at Revelation Records."

"I don't care," Cassidy said. She fumbled around for a while until she found a copy of her contract with Revelation Records. "I'm taking this home with me and burning it. Goodbye Alan."

"Come back!" Alan shouted, but Cassidy was already on her way out. A few minutes later, Cassidy Franklin left the Revelation Records Building, never to return.

I couldn't help but be a little bit disappointed when National Nightmare left Revelation Records. The band was one of the best artists signed to Revelation Records, and I was quite surprised that the Alan Rodriguez Hype Machine hadn't worked for them. I knew that I would miss Cassidy too. She was both my colleague and my friend - a fellow employee that I genuinely liked having around. Revelation Records would seem a bit empty without National Nightmare.

I never saw National Nightmare after that day, nor did I hear anything about them. Leaving Revelation Records was career suicide for their struggling band, but the music industry works in strange ways. In fact, National Nightmare did the exact same thing to Phantom Cat that Phantom Cat did to their record label fifteen years earlier.

Someday, National Nightmare may get a second chance at fame, but until then, I only hope that they're happy with whatever it is that they're doing now.

For Thanksgiving, my parents invited me to their house in Hubbard. I desperately needed a break from everything that was going on at Revelation Records, so I accepted their invitation. The day before Thanksgiving, I flew from Los Angeles to Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, where Mom and Dad picked me up. "Melissa and her family are flying in from St. Louis, so we're waiting for them too," Mom explained.

"Hi Mom. Hi Dad," Melissa said as she came over to us with her husband and three children.

"Hi Melissa," Mom said. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too," Melissa said.

"Hi Grandma!" Melissa's oldest son, Damien, said.

While Mom and Dad visited with Melissa's kids, Melissa started talking to me. "So how's the rock star lifestyle treating you?" she asked.

"I wouldn't call it that," I said.

Melissa laughed. "What else would you call it?" she asked. "You're still dating Alan Rodriguez, right? The lead singer of Phantom Cat?"

"He's actually not the lead singer," I said.

"Really?" Melissa said. "Every news source I've seen says that he's the lead singer."

"It's a common mistake," I said. "Miles Hawthorne is actually the lead singer. Alan plays guitar."

"Got it," Melissa said. "You're still dating him, right?"

"Yes I am," I said.

"You're so lucky, Bianca," Melissa said. "Bradley's cute, but he's no Alan Rodriguez."

I considered Melissa's words as I got into my parents' car. I was lucky, in a way, but there were a lot of downfalls to my so-called "rock star lifestyle." Sometimes, I couldn't help but be a little bit jealous of the amount of stability in Melissa's life. She didn't have to deal with paparazzi or overzealous fans, nor did she have to worry about what would happen if her album didn't sell.

I spent the rest of the evening with Melissa's family, listening to stories about Melissa's job as a lawyer and playing video games with her two sons. Eli and Damien were awful at Mario Kart, but I let them win occasionally. Meanwhile, Melissa's daughter Grace would not stop asking me questions. "Mommy said you wrote the Florence song," she commented at one point.

"That's not quite accurate," I said as I raced past Eli's cart in the game. "My ex-boyfriend wrote it. I'm just the..."

Grace interrupted me by singing Florence, and as much as I loved my niece, it took all of the strength I had not to try to shut her up. Even ten years after the fact, I still hated that song.

Thanksgiving dinner itself was nice. My mom made turkey, potatoes, cranberry sauce, and apple pie, and as usual, it was all delicious. I flew home the next morning, still stuffed from dinner the night before, but on the plane, I couldn't stop thinking about Alan and Revelation Records. Ever since I started dating him, I had always thought that Alan was worth all of the trouble I had to go to for him. Was that true? I wondered. Was Alan really worth everything that he had put me through?

A few weeks later, I got a call from Byron saying that Sara had finally given birth to a beautiful, healthy baby boy. Only Byron and Sara's family was allowed to see the baby on the first day, but I got to see them a few days later.

"Bianca, I'd like you to meet the newest member of our family," Sara said as she carried the baby into the living room.

"He's adorable," I said.

Byron grinnned. "I know," he said.

"What did you guys decide to name him?" I asked.

"We had a little bit of an argument over that at the hospital, but we decided on James," Sara said.

"You're forgetting the middle name," Byron said. "He's actually James Tiberius Shaw."

"You just had to put your Star Trek reference in there, didn't you, Byron?" I said.

Byron nodded. "It's a brilliant name, isn't it?" he said.

"We'll go with that," I said.

"Would you like to hold James?" Byron asked.

"Sure," I said. Sara transferred James into my arms, and the baby fell asleep almost immediately. "I guess he likes me," I observed.

All of a sudden, I heard Inigo Montoya squawk, followed by a profane comment involving Donald Trump, proving once again that the Shaw household would always be an unusual place, to say the least.

James Tiberius Shaw would certainly love growing up there.

On December 4th, my own birthday arrived. Alan offered to take me out to dinner at one of Los Angeles' nicest restaurants, and I accepted out of sheer politeness. He ordered a burger with some of the strangest toppings that I have ever seen, while I got a plate of pasta. After dinner, he gave me two gifts: a brand new laptop and an almost-completed copy of Phantom Cat's still unnamed sixth album. "Thanks Alan," I said after I had opened both presents. "You're so thoughtful."

"You're welcome, Bianca," Alan said. "I can't believe how old we're getting. I'm going to be forty in two weeks. That's so weird."

"You're not old, Alan," I said.

"You're just saying that," Alan said. "Anyways, I hope you like your gifts."

"I'm sure I will," I said. "By the way, I haven't gotten a chance to ask you this. What did you think of the election?"

Alan shrugged. "I don't follow politics," he said.

"You should," I told him. "Trump's going to be president, and he's obviously crazy. He wants to build a wall between us and Mexico and then make Mexico pay for it!"

Alan didn't have a response to that. I couldn't tell whether this meant that he was an illegal immigrant or that he simply didn't care, but it was odd nonetheless.

On the way home, I listened to the Phantom Cat CD. It was a good, if fairly standard, Phantom Cat album, but it still fun to listen to. From what I had heard, once Phantom Cat had come up with a name, they would release the album, although they weren't sure who would open for them on the tour now that National Nightmare was gone.

For some reason, I kept thinking about Robin, but I tried to push him out of my brain. I would have to wait until New Year's Eve to see him, so it wasn't worth even thinking about him before then. Besides, Robin and I had broken up years ago. He had moved on, and I had too, or so I thought. Nevertheless, I knew that I needed to focus on the present and try to forget the past. There was far too much going on in the present to dwell on what had already passed. 

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you're enjoying Spotlight so far. I can't believe that I only have eight chapters left! Anyways, I'm putting this book on hold until after AP exams, so don't expect another update until next Thursday or Friday.