When the man mentioned that he had stopped giving beginning musicians a head start in their careers, Jayce briefly wondered why. Jayce sat down and took the pen that Viktor offered, and accidentally brushed his hand over the producer’s knuckles. He winced, apprehensive of how the man would react to his unintentional touch.
“Sorry,” Jayce said, before looking over at the sheet. The Piltovian stared long and hard at it. The blank sheet of paper felt like a doorway to something new; a rewrite of his potential future. It was both terrifying and thrilling at the same time.
Suddenly, he heard a couple clicks and soon after, the distinct smell of freshly burnt tobacco wafting through the air. Jayce’s eyes widened and he looked at Viktor. The man sat there next to him, smoking casually, and Jayce gulped. He quickly turned back to the page in front of him and forced himself to concentrate.
He thought carefully over Viktor’s words. Superficial attention grabs were off the table, and something about the producer’s deliberate choice actually gave Jayce relief. The Zaunite’s comment that not everyone will like his new music gave him a better sense of freedom. As he wrote, he said out loud without even thinking,
“You know when I was younger, I used to write my own music. Nowadays I barely even play my own guitar anymore. Everything’s so rehearsed now, sometimes my manager will just play pre-recorded tracks while I perform.” Something about Jayce’s own statement irked the golden boy. One of the first things he wrote on the paper was, write my own music again. As he continued to write he said,
“Lately I’ve only been performing pop songs. But when I first started out, I loved listening to Nirvana, Radiohead…the Strokes. That was the music that really stoked my passion.” He smiled bitterly to himself, “Guess I really am a washed up musician. Sold out pretty hard, huh.”
When he went to hand the list to his new producer, he noticed the man looking into his empty cigarette packet with a slight scowl. After he gave Viktor the paper Jayce immediately stood up,
“I uh…I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” Jayce paced out of the studio without even asking Viktor where the restrooms were located.
As he exited The Machine Herald, he looked around. He thought he could remember a pop up stand nearby that sold random snacks and newspapers. When he got to the shop, he was relieved to see a shelf of cigarette brands behind the counter. He pulled out a few crumpled pieces of cash from his pocket and set it down on the table before saying,
“Two packs of Marlboro’s please.”
It wasn’t much longer until he arrived back at the studio in a small sweat and a harsh breath. He felt a scratch in his throat from going back out to the Lanes without a mask, but said nothing about it before he sat back down next to Viktor. The packs were secured tightly in his own pocket. After a minute or two, he discreetly slipped the cigarettes on the corner of Viktor’s desk.
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