“Number three,” Omar repeats, and I hear the disappointment in his voice. For me or Mark, I’m not sure.
I’m reminded, once again, that I’m not great at reading people, because minutes ago I was convinced Omar was different. But him glossing over Mark’s inappropriate commentary has proven me wrong.
Lola picks that exact moment to burst through the door and yell, “Tell them to piss off, Soph! You’re going on tour with Thicker Than Water, you badass motherfucker!”
I rest my elbows on the tabletop, drop my face into my palms, and scrub at it in slow motion while I inhale for a count of four and exhale for a count of four. The room is small, and Lola is loud. They heard every word.
“I think we have our answer, gentlemen,” Mark says. “We go with Seth, as it should be.”
He sounds vindictively gleeful now that he’s seen my composure slip, and this heat and my nerves get the best of me.
Everything that can possibly go wrong during this interview has, but dammit, I deserve better. These men are not my tribe, and I don’t have to take their shit. Mark doesn’t get to take this from me either; this is my choice.
It’s time to raise some hell.
I lift my head, pull my earrings out, and in a voice that I wish was smug, but mostly sounds tired and relieved because I can take this goddamn sweater off, I say, “Well, you heard the woman. I guess after giving this company everything for eight years, this is where we part ways. And rather than telling you to piss off as suggested, I’ll implore you to do better. Except you,Mark,you can fuck all the way off.” Before they can reply, I tap the button in the lower corner of my screen to exit.
Lola is happy dancing her way across the room toward me as I tear the sweater over my head and toss it at her. “This sweater is cursed. Burn it.”
She catches it while asking, “Did you just tell Mark to fuck off,you absolute legend?” And then she gasps when she gets a look at me. “Why do you look like you spent ten hours in a sauna and then walked through a mile-long wind tunnel?”
I tilt my head and stare at her, unamused.
“Seriously, Soph. What the hell happened?” Lola asks. Her excitement temporarily forgotten.
“That goddamn wool sweater on a summer day happened.” And my anxiety was through the roof, but I leave that part out. “Also, they were assholes.”
She wets a few paper towels in the kitchen sink and hands them to me. “You mean that goddamnluckysweater.”
I halfheartedly glare at her but accept them.
She ignores the glare. “It’s in the past. Let’s focus on your future. You’re going on tour with Thicker Than Water.”
I scrub at my face. “What does that mean? What did you get me into?”
Lola smiles sweetly. “I heard the implied thank you, so you’re welcome.” And then she relays the conversation.
Before I call back, I open Instagram to message Good Guy and discover he sent me a message twenty minutes ago.
Good Guy
You got this! Let me know how it went when you’re done.
I respond with,
The interview was a disaster, but I feel oddly relieved. Exhausted and scared out of my mind (because the control freak in me wants to lose her ever-loving shit), but relieved. Is that weird? I think maybe it finally sank in that the corporate world isn’t my scene. Not sure if that epiphany happened before or after I told my boss to “fuck all the way off,” but here we are. Not my classiest move, but I’m not gonna lie, it felt good. Also, while I was in interview hell, my sister managed to line me up with a temp photography job. No details yet, but I’ll fill you in when I know more. It’s only 7:30 in the morning, but this has been the strangest day I’ve had in a while. And that’s saying something. I think it's time for a nap. Or a stiff drink. Maybe both.
twelve
I’m smiling,reading her message, and wishing more than anything I could be wherever she is right now. This woman came out of nowhere and has literally turned into my favorite person. How is that even possible?
I type back,
Pour that stiff drink and raise your glass. Cheers to Sophie, epiphanies, overdue “fuck offs”, new opportunities, and the world waking up to the idea that it needs more of your photos! I’m proud of you. I know today didn’t turn out the way Past Sophie wanted it to, but maybe it turned out the way Future Sophie needs it to. I’ll hold your earrings. You go conquer the world.
thirteen
As a personwho appreciates pace and progression when I commit to a project, I must admit my head is spinning. This is all happeningsofast. Lola says it’s for the best because it doesn’t give me time to worry and back out. She’s right. The recklessness of spontaneity and unknowns is making me nauseous. But beneath the nausea, there’s excitement taking shape. Or an ulcer. They probably feel similar.
