Page 146 of A World Apart
“Technically,” I agreed, “Jeremy even told me afterwards that if I ever needed a reference, to email him directly and he’ll do it for me. Damn good of him.”
“He may be on the verge of a stroke, but he’s a decent person,” Becka agreed.
“How are you feeling? That was a lot, babes.” Becka held my gaze, that unnerving stare she sometimes pulled out when she knew you were withholding something. I fidgeted, playing with my ring as I considered my answer.
“Honestly, I’m kind of relieved. The whole thing with TK was more of a weight than I thought – and yes, you’re absolutely right, I should have told you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
I chewed on my lip before answering. “I was so busy trying to convince myself it wasn’t a big deal, that I think I convinced myself it wasn’t.
“I mean, who the hell am I?” I spread my arms. “Just a foreigner in a country that isn’t all that interested in keeping me here without the backing of my employer. An employer I would be potentially implicating in a sexual harassment scandal.
“So, yes. Relief is the thing I mostly feel. And I think I didn’t tell you because you’ve been so invested in me, and my time here. And I’ve been feeling like an arsehole for not being more into it. You went to so much trouble to get me here and put me up. And it only took me a few months to realise I didn’t want this anymore.”
I was so worked up, that I almost didn’t realise what I’d just said, until Becka held up her hand to pause me.
“Hold up – what did you realise you don’t want anymore?”
Ah fuck. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
I sighed. “Becka I… being here has been such an enormous, wild adventure, and I really mean it when I say that I have loved it. But of all the things I’ve learnt since being here, the biggest is that… I don’t want to do music production. It’s just not something I love anymore.”
I fell silent and just watched her, watching me. Until she blew out a breath, dropped her head and said, “Finally.”
Not the response I was expecting. “Beg pardon?”
“Babes, I get that that was probably a big, dramatic moment for you. But you’ve forgotten who’s sitting next to you right now. I know you, and I’ve known for a long time that this was not going to be where you ended up. Well, careerwise, anyway.”
I gaped at her. “But you’ve been pressing me to really lean into LA, into Pisces…”
Becka rolled her eyes at me. “Well yeah, because you had a year-long contract, how hard is it to suck it up for a year, make the connections, get the experience and live in frickin’ LA? Babes, if you’d been less of a whiney baby deer, we could have done this ages ago and planned on how to get you into an industry you actually wanted. I knew you didn’t love being behind the music; even back at Uni. You always talked about the music itself, never the process of putting it all together. You wouldn’t shut up about the artistry of it all coming together. You never did that about doing it yourself. You hated practical work. I never knew another student who’d rather write the dissertation than do the practical.”
I laughed, even as my chin wobbled.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that, months ago!”
“Well, hell babes,” Becka grabbed my face in her hands, “I thought you’d figure it out, eventually. I didn’t know it would take a sexual harassment allegation and a breach of contract to get you there!”
We laughed for a while, until the mirth subsided and we fell into silence, each of us letting the enormity of the afternoon sink in, before Becka quietly spoke. “What will you do now?”
I sighed, a big gust I pulled all the way up from my stomach and tried to exhale out the demons of the day on it. “I guess, I go home.
“Oh fuck, Kaiya.” Becka’s voice broke and she put down her wine glass to cover her eyes as her shoulders began to shake, crying in earnest.
I hurried round the counter to wrap my arms around her shoulders, rubbing her arms, trying to impart comfort I wasn’t sure I even had for myself.
“Sshh… it’s okay,” I murmured, “it’s going to be okay. This changes nothing for you and me, you know that right?”
“I don’t want you to go,” she wailed.
I had to swallow thickly before I spoke. “Me either, but it is what it is. This is just the way it was meant to pan out, you know?”
Becka had nothing to say to that. We each held each other, Becka crying, me trying not to, both of us just feeling our way through this, until eventually Becka’s cries turned into soft snuffles.
We’d been silent a while before a knock came at the door. I looked at Becka, and she looked at me.
“I’m not expecting anyone,” she shrugged, “but I bet Jose let someone in again.”
