“Yes?”
“It’s not…I don’t…we’re just…Argghh!” I finally let out.
“Uh-huh,” Johnny responded. “I see how it is. It’s too early to tell?”
“Exactly.”
“Do you want it to go there? Because if not, you need to put on those breaks and fast. You know relationships with neighbors can be dicey.”
“I know. Almost as bad as living with someone and a relationship goes belly up.”
“True. Very true.” He looked at me and guided me to sit down on the couch. “I won’t tell you anything you don’t already know. You’re an adult. All I’ll say is, be careful. And if you need me to whack him, I know some people.”
I busted out laughing. “Being an extra in a mob movie isn’t the same as knowing real people in the criminal underworld.”
“Hey, you never know.” But the way he said it made it clear he didn’t.
“My hero,” I said, bringing him in for a hug. “Now go. You’ve checked up on me. I’m doing fine.”
“Really?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Okay, maybe notfine, but I’m doing better. And for now, that’s as good as it’s going to get.”
“Okay. But if you need me, call.”
“I promise,” I said. “Now go. You have a hot guy waiting for you downstairs. Just because you stopped me from having my fun tonight doesn’t mean you can’t have yours.”
“I’m sure if you threw on something a little more see-through and knocked on his door…”
“Johnny!” I said, slapping him against his shoulder lightly.
“Ouch,” he said, pulling back, overacting his pain.
“Yeah, I’ll show you ouch. Now, get outta here,” I said in my best mob accent.
“Wow, you’re less gangsta than I am,” he said as he stood up off the couch.
“Out, I say! Out damn spot. Out!”
“Sure thing, Lady McB.” He walked toward the door. “Night, Erika. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Night, Johnny.” I grabbed Bootsy and held onto him as Johnny opened the door. “And Johnny, thanks for being the most amazing friend a girl could ever ask for.”
He smiled, shrugged and blew me a kiss before shutting the door.
Chapter 24
IspentmostofSunday finally responding to emails and texts from people I’d avoided the rest of the weekend. My lawyer wrote to say they were still inquiring.
“Erika, the more we dig, the more convoluted this case becomes. Technically, you were in a private residence having a private conversation. Still, your conversation was being picked up by the microphone of the young girl in the private residence. That conversation would have been kept private, but she was engaged in a video game with other players in a more public space. To make things worse, one of the other players was streaming the video gameplay. As such, the young girl you know did not know anyone was streaming the video game. Someone who writes for TheBroadway411 was watching the stream, and recognized your conversation for what it was and captured the stream. As you can see, the conversation went through many mediated channels. Technically, we could argue that recording a minor’s private video game time could be illegal, but the video game industry already alleges that it’s a public space, so no laws were broken. It’s a hard one. – Charles Pearson.”
Upon finishing the email, my head felt ready to explode. “So much for technology,” came the grumbled response. A simple ‘thank-you’ reply was all I could manage, along with a request to keep up the excellent work. Words failed beyond that point. Instead, I turned my attention to listing other potential life paths. Waiting tables? A brief stint during college came to mind, and that one came off my list. Then there was that fleeting moment as a barista. Unfortunately, that exhausted the list of usable job experience. Regional summer stock performances rounded out the resume, but playing Belle inBeauty and the Beasthardly qualified one as a librarian, just as touring Elphaba didn’t make for a suitable flying monkey trainer.
I could always go back and get another degree. The idea of running back to college made me want to crawl into a hole. I was a good student, but I wasn’t an exceptional student. Admittedly, I don’t know if my grades from my undergraduate years would be good enough to get me into a decent master’s program. And if they did, what would I study? I wrote a list.Teacher…and then I wrotePlaywright. Both assumed I would be any good and could find a job. Thankfully, I could still be a cabaret singer for a while, but my savings were rapidly disappearing.
I needed to schedule a meeting with my accountant next week and really look at my financials. I didn’t know what else to do. The more I pondered about my financial situation, the more worried I became. I had student loans, my apartment, electric, singing lessons, and a stack of other bills that had to get paid somehow.
The room spun around me, its edges blurring into a dizzying whirl. My chest tightened, each breath coming faster and shallower than the last. I lifted my hand to my forehead and found beads of sweat around my temple.Was this a fever?I didn’t have time to be sick.I noticed my hands were shivering. My pulse was racing. “Is it me or is the room getting hot?”I’m too young to have hot flashes. I freaked out. It was as if my body suddenly rebelled against me. Then it hit me. “I’m having a panic attack.”What’s wrong with me? I haven’t had one of these since high school.Think! Think! What are you supposed to do?I bent at the waist and put my head between my knees, and I took a series of deep breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth. I stayed in that position until my heartbeat stabilized. When I calmed down, I reminded myself that I was in this same financial position I had been in just six weeks ago, and I had been getting by.
