Page 75 of Your Pace or Mine
Stephen’s expression darkened. “Careful, Jamie. This industry is small, and people talk. I’d hate for you to burn bridges.”
Jamie stepped back. “I’d rather burn every bridge in London than have anything to do with your show. You are everything that’s wrong with this fucking industry.” He turned and walked out of the office, his heart racing and his breath shallow. By the time he made it outside, the adrenaline had begun to wear off, leaving anger and humiliation in its wake. He wanted to scream, to cry, to call someone, to do anything but dwell on what his life had become.
He was done.
Leaving the audition and getting out of the building was a complete blur. Jamie’s body took him on autopilot to Sloane Square, and he’d made the familiar walk halfway to Darius’s before he snapped out of the strange sort of stupor he was in. He turned on his heel, realising there was no longer any comfort waiting for him at the end of this road, but he didn’t manage to make it back to the station before the tears came. To add insult to injury, when he finally looked down at his mobile, he had multiple messages and missed calls from Jonathan asking him to call into the office immediately.
Jamie was dreading what he would say. He had never thought Jonathan was a bad guy, per se. He was a well-respected agentand had been with Jamie for a while. They weren’t friends, though, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he’d have his back in this situation.
Jamie sat cross-legged on a bench in Sloane Square, trying to calm his tears enough to make the call. He forced himself to take a few sips from his water bottle and work through the grounding techniques his parents had drilled into him as a kid.Five things you can see, four things you can hear, three things you can touch. Breathe in, breathe out.
Convinced he was as calm as he was going to get under the circumstances, he picked up his phone and dialled.
“Parsons and Associates, how may I direct your call?” a bubbly secretary Jamie hadn’t spoken to before answered.
“Oh, it’s, I’m calling for Jonathan, it’s Jamie, he was trying to get hold of me, but I was on the tube and—“ He stopped himself. He was rambling, and this poor girl didn’t need his life story.
“One moment, please. I’ll transfer you,” she replied professionally.
Jamie was grateful for the brief reprieve of the hold music, but before long, Jonathan was on the other end of the line, and he did not sound pleased.
“What the actual fuck, Carter?”
“I take it I didn’t book it then?” Jamie joked weakly.
“Don’t even joke about that right now,” Jonathan raged. “I don’t even understand what would possess you to—you’re so talented, Jamie, why can’t you just suck it up and do what needs to be done?”
“Wait, you can’t possibly be suggesting I—“ Jamie tried to ask, but was steamrolled by Jonathan’s tirade.
“Just show up, do what you’re asked and leave. It’s dance, Jamie, not rocket science, and I bent over backwards to get you this shot after you bailed the other night, you’re fucking yourselfover, which means you’re fucking me over, and I don’t like that, Jamie, I really don’t.”
“Jonathan, with all due respect, are you fucking saying what I think you are right now?” Jamie asked as he stood, walking briskly towards the tube station.
Jonathan faltered only slightly at Jamie’s tone. “You never had a problem with this before. I don’t see why you can’t just put your pride aside one more time to save your damn career? I told Stephen you could be discreet now, Carter. And instead, you’re cussing him out and making a scene like a fucking diva.”
“What did you tell him?” Jamie asked, voice dangerously low.
“Oh, don’t be so fucking naïve, Jamie. He wanted to take you on tour with him again. What do you bloody well think?”
“So when he offered to give me the role then and there and use his ‘influence in the industry’ if I was willing to be a ‘team player’ and ‘demonstrate my commitment to him,’ you’d already told him that was a done deal? That I’d be up for that? I was in a relationship, Jonathan.”
“Well, from what I’ve read over the past couple of days, that’s pretty past tense,” Jonathan replied.
“Wow. Fuck you, Jonathan. I was hoping we could talk this through and that you’d tell me you’ve got my back. Tell me it was a mistake, that Stephen is a fucking creep, and I won’t be auditioning for him again. But fuck that, just tell me whether or not my career is over because of this Jonathan. But if this is how you want to operate, then we’re done here either way.”
“Jamie, I’m sorry to inform you that Parsons and Associates has taken the decision to terminate your contract in light of this situation.”
“Are you kidding me?You’redroppingme?“ Jamie stopped dead in the middle of the pavement, a businessman in a suit and leather wingtips, swearing as he nearly toppled over him from behind.
“I’m sorry, Jamie,” Jonathan said, sounding at least slightly more human. “You’ve got a reputation now, and if you aren’t prepared to lean into it, then I don’t see a direction for us moving forward.”
“So I’m done then?” Jamie asked, his voice small as the weight of what this truly meant hit him. He was really finished.
Jonathan sighed, for the first time sounding almost like the man Jamie’d signed with fresh out of school. “Look, if I were you, I’d try cruise ships.”
“So I can sing show tunes to pensioners for the rest of my days,” Jamie said glumly.
“Sorry, Jamie, you’re costing me money at this point. I can’t keep you on the books.”
