Page 125 of A World Apart
“It’s Kaiya. What can I do for you, Mr Kyle?” I reiterated.
He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, a smirk pulling at his lips.
“How long have you worked for us, Kaiya?” ‘Us’, as if he didn’t work for Pisces just as much as I did.
“Since April, Mr Kyle.” I kept expecting him to ask me to call him Trevor, as I’d seen him do with pretty much everyone, but he never did.
“And do you have aspirations to work in the music industry, Kaiya?” It was a simple enough question, but when he said it, it sounded like a proposition.
“I don’t know what career I’m going to pursue, yet.” I answered, careful to keep my tone neutral. All too aware of that closed door.
“I could help you with that, you know.” He grinned. “It’s so important to nurture talent from within our ranks. I’ve seen your Youtube channel. You have some promise.”
I was so taken aback that I momentarily forgot to be apprehensive in the face of a well-respected producer telling me I had promise.
“T-thank you.” I slicked my hands down my jeans.
Trevor Kyle pushed off the door behind him and took a step towards me. “Why don’t you spend some time shadowing me? I could show you the ropes. I’d be happy to break you in a little bit.”
I blinked, going over the words in my head. Individually they were fine, but altogether, they were… not.
“It’s who you know in this business that opens doors,” he continued. “You need friends you can look up to. We could be friends.” He shrugged, as if this wasn’t a big deal, but the next step he took closer to me felt a whole lot like a big deal.
He looked like he was going to move again, where the door loudly opened, slamming against the wall.
And there in the doorway, standing like an avenging angel-
“You okay, cher?”
I heaved a sigh and moved around TK, holding my breath to avoid breathing in the smell of his cologne.
“Did you need me to sort that thing for you, Donna?” I chirped as I joined her at the door, my eyes wide. Her eyes narrowed as she flicked a glance over my shoulder. I didn’t turn around, so I don’t know what she saw, but it obviously didn’t pass the vibe check.
“Yes.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the too-bright reception, dragging me all the way over to her desk, where she forced me to sit in her chair. Imperiously, she pointed at her computer screen and ordered me to “fix this thing, you.”
But there was nothing on the screen, and if there had been – I was not that kind of technician. That didn’t stop me from clicking open a bunch of windows, and tapping away at the keyboard like I was doing something when TK strolled past. He looked over at the desk, trying to catch my eye, but I kept my focus on my ‘task’, until I heard the lift doors closing, the reception lobby suddenly silent, save for the quiet whir of the industrial aircon.
“Thank you.” I said quietly as I tried not to cry.
“Be smarter, you.” Donna clapped me on the shoulder, her nails digging into my shoulder in a firm, but strangely comforting way.
“For the final time, Becka,” I banged my head against the kitchen counter, “I am not going to open the door to strangers wearing costumes. I am not going to leave myphone at home. I am not going to walk down alleyways as a shortcut, and I am not going to go down to the basement to investigate any strange noises.” I’d added that last one as a goof, but if she made me repeat the other list of ‘do nots,’ one more time…
“I lived in London for three years on my own, just fine, and Londoners can be feral, so give me some credit, yeah?” I peeled my face off the stone counter-top to look over to where her suitcase had exploded all over the living room floor. And by ‘exploded,’ I mean where Becka had pulled everything out of it again, for the third time.
“Becka, you’re going for a weekend, not the whole month. And it’s your parents’ house!” I cried, “I’m pretty sure they’ll have a hairdryer!”
Becka chewed her lip as she looked over the eviscerated suitcase. Then, moaning loudly, she flopped forward on top of it, like a sacrifice flinging itself onto the rocks.
“Ow,” came her muffled groan.
“Hairdryer?” I winced.
She pulled herself up, wielding the appliance. “Yup.”
“Help me close this thing before I put anything else in it!”
I obliged, getting up off the stool and walking over to her, taking the hairdryer and throwing it back in her room. Together, we managed to close the hard-shelled bag and, with me sitting on it, we got it zipped up.
