Page 86 of On the Beat

I can already tell that it’s a cheque. “I… am?”

“Yes. I loved what you wrote in theFBLApiece, and we can’t lose you here.”

It’s everything I wanted to hear for so long. I’m going to be doing serious journalism. I’ll write music critiques and get paid. Someone will actually read my writing and think that it’s good, rather than quote-tweetingwho caresin response to a Kanye article. I’m going to be—

“You’ll be writing fashion and celebrity journalism, but just in a more long-form format,” she continues. “As I said, Poppy Black leftLa Moderecently, so you can take her spot. It should be more of what you’re used to, but you’ll be able to do deep dives and exclusive interviews. ThinkWomen’s Healthstuff: how Halle Berry stays fit at 50! What moisturizer should I use for combination skin, but with a dermatologist’s consultation? That sort of thing. I wouldn’t be too worried about it. You will be getting paid more, though. Here’s the first little bonus.”

Just like that, all my dreams come to a screeching halt. I’ll still be at the mercy of an editor’s whims. I’m still going to be writing whatever they tell me to write.

“Jane… I’m not so sure about this.”

She looks up from her computer. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s just… This isn’t what I want to write about.”

Jane cocks her head to one side, and all I see is my reflection mirrored back at me, twice over in her sunglasses. Two versions of me. A crossroads. I have to choose one, and I choose the better path. The better person. The harder, more difficult, less comfortable path. The wild, bold version of Isla Romero that I never really let loose.

“What do you want to write about, Isla?”

“I want to write about music criticism. I want to write whatIwant to write, not what someone assigns to me. I… I guess, I’m quitting.”

For the first time in all my four years working at SnapBuzz, Jane Thornton takes off her sunglasses. I don’t have time to appreciate the sight before she launches into a tirade.

“What do you mean, you’requitting? I know that Financial Buzz made you an offer, but it can’t be any better than what you’re making right now. Besides, we have health and dental benefits,anda private gym. Come on, are you really telling me you’d rather go work for those stiff suits over at FBLA than work here?” Jane almost seems… desperate. “Isla, you’re a great writer. It’s okay if you didn’t turn in the Ryder Black expose that I asked for—“

“No, Jane, that’s not it. I’m tired of working at this job.” I touch my wrist out of instinct, even though I took off Ryder’s bracelet yesterday. A tan line still marks the place where it was, but soon, that will fade, too. All I need now is for my heart to catch up. “The only thing I do here is make up stories about people who I’ll never know, who don’t care what I think of them, and get clicks by writing headlines likewho is Kim Kardashian dating noworwhat broke up Brangelina. I mean, whocares?

“The only people whodocare really have nothing better to do with themselves and would probably be better off if they never read another SnapBuzz article in their lives! It’s invasive and creepy and yet somehowboring. I mean, really, Jane, didn’t you ever want to go into actual journalism? Not even Pulitzer-winning stuff, just something a little moremeaningful?”

My rant spills out of me before I can take it back. I stare down at my polished patent pumps and wait for the axe to fall on my neck. The seconds tick by on the wall clock, until Jane’s voice reaches my ears.

“You’re one of the best writers we have on staff, Isla. You know I don’t give out compliments easily. But if you want to go, I’ll let you go fulfill your silly, idealistic dreams. Just know that SnapBuzz will be waiting for you if you want to come back. Okay?”

I nod, knowing I won’t be back. The empty space on my wrist where Ryder’s bracelet used to be stares up at me, as pale as a scar. “Okay.”

Jane Thornton looks at me, one eye blue and the other brown. I wonder if her heterochromia is the reason she always wears sunglasses. “I was young and naive like you, once. I just never seized the chance to pursue anything I wanted to. I always took the safe path. It’s gotten me to a comfortable place in life, but sometimes… I wonder if there’s more to life than comfort.”

I shift, my heels pinching my toes. I’ve been wearing flip flops for so long that I forgot what it feels like to wear real shoes. But that’s not the only reason for my discomfort; it’s also that I realize I chose the easy way out. I took the comfortable route by not telling him the truth and confronting the facts of what we were. Of what I set out to do and how he completely derailed me. “Yeah. I get that.”

“Oh, and Isla?”

“Yes?” I spin on my heel, nearly twisting my ankle.

Jane sighs. “I know Ryder Black broke your heart. He gave Skye Holland a bracelet, too.”

She—and everyone else—can say whatever they want.

I know what we had wasn’t as fake as we thought it was. And I know it’s over.

But I still want to fight for it.

* * *

“Hey guys. If you’ve been watching me do these videos for a while, and you’ve been subscribed to my channel since it started, I just want to say, thank you. Thanks for sticking around. I do have something exciting to say, though. Um, today, I’m finally revealing who I am. The true face behind On The Beat music reviews.

“Hi, world. I’m Isla Romero. And on this channel, you’ll find music video reactions, in-depth music and pop culture critiques, and so much more that I love to talk about. If any of that sounds good to you, then hit the subscribe button and join the gang. I post new videos every Monday, and I also write—I mean, I used to write—celebrity journalism. You can find some of my work under the pseudonym, Iris Hart, too.”

I hit pause on the video. It’s always weird watching yourself through the unforgiving lens of a camera and especially uncomfortable listening to the recorded sound of your own voice. Still, I had to make sure nothing was wrong with the video before I posted it to my channel.

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