FICTION SAMPLE #1

CHAPTER ONE

Ronald Razor's POV

“Go fuck yourself!” he yelled at me, banging my office door so hard it rattled. “You’ll regret this, asshole! What do you have if not for me?!”

“Byyyyyye,” I sang, smirking as he left. Despite my outward look, I was annoyed. Frank Dover, despite being a complete douchebag, had incredible talent. How were we going to replace the psycho now? Being a very popular, albeit polarizing, figure, the limelight always shone on him. That usually meant more money for Ronald Razor Records due to increased exposure. However, there comes a time when the press is so bad that the term ‘All press is good press’ no longer becomes applicable.

I noticed Drew exchanging words with him on his way out with a smirk on his face. Even my COO hated Frank–everyone did. The guy was an entitled prick, and he’d put us in this situation. We had to fire him, and the announcement had to be made without informing him. Drew walked into my office and sat down opposite me. By then, I’d sat down and thought about our next step. We needed a new face now that he’d been fired, and all eyes would be on him, not us. We needed to bring someone quick before the light on us dimmed. People care about talent more than record labels. I could bet most people didn’t know the different labels famous artists were signed to.

“So, what’s the plan?” Drew asked. I finally looked at him after coming to terms with my thoughts.

“We have to act fast. This was always the plan when he decided to fire him. Have you found any promising leads from the shortlist I gave you?”

“That’s a pretty long list,” Drew replied.

“Yeah, but you might have found one by now.”

I’d given him a list of potential replacements for Frank based on talent and personality. I’d gone from large artists like Cybelle and Korentin who were not signed to any label at the moment to YouTube artists that have good fan bases. I didn’t really care about their popularity, honestly, because right now, RRR stood at the top. The news just came out of our parting ways with Frank, and I surely expected backlash from him and his camp saying we didn’t handle things in good faith by blindsiding him. We didn’t care, though. He’d done enough.

From beating up a teenager in the middle of the street to making disparaging remarks about women, Frank had done enough to get us to remove him. Some members of the board wanted him gone much earlier, but I knew Frank could twist that to mean another thing. That’s why I waited for something so big that it would be obvious we had to let him go. This issue with him sending a woman and her 7-year-old daughter to the hospital by drinking and driving served as the final straw. To make matters worse, his comments afterward sounded so callous. Disregarding the economic benefit of us letting him go, I still couldn’t have him in my company on a moral level either.

“I found a few. Since we’re in a time crunch to get ahead of the story and turn it into a positive for our fresh face, should I just send the ones I see as promising to you while steamrolling through the rest?” Drew suggested.

I’d rather he perused them judiciously, but I understood that there were over a hundred artists there. It would take at least a week before we can fully scan each one even if he gives the work to the HR department. To me, Drew doing it would be best since this determined the future of the company for the foreseeable future. While I respected all that worked in RRR, I didn’t trust anyone as much as I did Drew.

“Argh… fine. We’ll go with that.” I got a ping on my phone and saw the picture of Maddy as my screen saver. That was enough to get me in a bad mood. Drew must have noticed it because he quickly spoke.

“I don’t know why you still have that wallpaper when you know what it does to you.”

“She’s my daughter, dude.”

“Yes, but considering how things are between you guys and how sad you always get when you see her face, have you considered maybe changing it, so you don’t get sad every time?” He made a good point, and I’d told myself that many times, but for some reason, I could not. “How’s her health?” he added.

“Good. I speak to the school doctor twice a week. She must be sick of me now.” We both chuckle.

“Have you tried talking to her recently?”

“Oh, we talk every week, but we might as well not talk at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“We barely say anything. Our talks don’t even reach 10 seconds. It’s either me calling for an ‘Are you alive’ check or she's calling for money.”

“Damn. I’m sorry, man.”

“She is trying, though. I can tell. Trust me, it was way worse before. Sometimes, I wouldn’t hear directly from her in a month.”

“What the hell?”

“I knew she was okay from others at the campus, so I didn’t panic, but it still felt pretty shitty. Made me want to make less of an effort, so I stopped sending money as punishment…” I realized I had started based on a different topic.

“Enough of that,” I didn’t like dwelling on melancholic thoughts when I had work. “Get me the list of the ones you have so far, so I can run through them throughout today.”

My phone pinged again, and I realized that I hadn’t checked the first ping because I got distracted by Maddy’s picture. Before I could even check that one, two more hits. Then Drew’s phone vibrated – I guess it was on silent – causing us to stare at each other.

“Frank,” I said.

“He’s made his move.” Drew finished my thoughts. People said we had a hive mind, and regardless of how I felt about that statement, I had to admit that it sometimes rang through; this case, in point.

We checked our phones, and it was as we expected. After going through some of the messages on our phones, we confirmed it. Frank had already accused us of unruly conduct; that’s funny, coming from him. My analysis proved to be correct as he got roasted in the comments of the tweet by his PR team. That reminded me I needed to call our PR team to make sure they handled everything as we discussed earlier.

“Shit. I gotta call PR.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll handle it.” Drew offered.

“Are you sure? Don’t you have to sieve the remaining candidates for Frank’s replacement?

“Since I’m just running through them, it shouldn’t take too much time,” he explained. “What I need you to do is focus on our next talent. You have the magic eye, and we need that eye directed at one place.” Drew got up, ready to get to work.

“Tell me when you’re done with the batch I’ll send you, so I can send the rest. For now, I’m gonna go to PR and HR. I’ll send you the list of the candidates when I get to my office.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Drew did as he said he would, sending me a list of 13 candidates from the ones he had done so far. He considered them all quite talented, but he felt I was better at spotting the true geniuses or talents from the others. I tried starting but couldn’t focus because of Maddy. Why did I feel so worried right now? I knew where my concern for my daughter came from. Considering the past, anything could happen.

Leaving the list, I picked up my phone and called my daughter. She said I shouldn’t call her in the afternoon due to classes, but I didn’t care. I just needed to hear her voice to make sure she was alright. It rang, to no avail.

“Relax. It’s okay. She’s just busy.” I told myself. I’d had one too many scares concerning Maddy’s difficult situation to be sane or logical when it came to her, but what I needed to do now was relax, truly.

I continued with the list, vetting the candidates until the evening when Maddy called. Seeing her call lit up my spirits and I quickly answered it. Before that, my brain had refused to fully function, and I hated that. Heck, I even took time to play Spider Solitaire on my laptop.

“Hello?” I spoke with haste.

“Dad?” Her voice eased my heart. “Why do you sound like you’re running?”

“I’m working at the office on something. Things are hectic here. Don’t worry about that. How are you? Are you eating well?”

“I’m fine, Dad. What’s this about?” she asked. “You shouldn’t call me in the afternoon. I told you that already. I have classes.”

“Yes, I know, okay? I was just worried.”

“Why? I’ve been feeling good. You don’t need to always worry about me.”

“That’s my job as a father. I can’t just leave you on your own.”

“That didn’t stop you before.” Silence filled the air after she said that. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I know you’re doing better now.”

“Good to see you still hold on to that.” Her words hurt me extra today because I just wanted to connect with my daughter. I knew I had made mistakes in the past, but people deserved a second chance to make things right. Apparently, I might never get one.

“Look, Dad, I don’t have the energy to argue. I already apologized for what I said. No need to drag this matter. We’ve been in a good place for a while now. Let’s not mess that up.”

I sighed. It was obvious that she had a lot she wished to say to me that remained boiling inside. A call that I hoped would be nice and make me feel good ended up making me feel worse. I felt anger, guilt, and disappointment. She had this knack for firing passive-aggressive comments, but when I wanted to talk about it, my daughter pulled away. I guessed she tried to show me how I used to be when she gave her all in the past to connect, but I zoned in on work.

“Okay, Maddy. Goodbye. Be sure to call me when you need money.” I angrily responded.

“Bye, Dad. Work as always, I suppose.” I cut the call, almost smashing my phone on the table after.

Getting up, I took my laptop and left the office. The time said 4:38 p.m., so I could leave if I wished. I went downstairs and saw two of my bodyguards, Dan and Krenshaw.

“Done for the day, sir?” Krenshaw asked, and I hummed a yes.

“Let’s go.”

I got into my Audi 2023 A8 sedan with my driver, Reginald, greeting me after seeing me. The others entered the black car behind me.

“Where to, Boss?” Reginald, whom I called Reggie, asked. “Home?”

“Yep.”

As he drove, my eyes tried to pick out the people outside as they went about their daily activities. People with different lives than mine fascinated me to no end. I liked putting my shoes in the situation of another person with a different life experience than mine. The man walking his dogs, the couple arguing and causing a scene on the pedestrian walkway, and the young girl completely hooked on her phone while bumping into someone. These mundane activities, for some reason, intrigued me. Perhaps because I felt so alone inside. While ruminating on these existential matters, my eyes slowly closed.

"She's foaming at the mouth, sir!" the maid shouted at me from the living room while I scoured for my keys. I thought I left them in the kitchen, but I had trouble finding them. My hands shook furiously as I tried calming myself down. What the hell? Why was this happening? These questions ran through my head while my daughter struggled to breathe in the other room. Quickly, I glanced below to the floor to see my car keys. I swiped them, rushing back to the living room while Dame, my head of security, came into the house.

"Where the heck have you been?!" I yelled in anger, not even stopping to talk to him further. My mind couldn't process the fact that Maddy had gotten into such a situation.

Was she epileptic? I thought. No, now wasn't the time to query or ask questions. I needed to get her to the hospital. I'd already called for an emergency doctor to get over here.

"No, no, no, no, no," I muttered after seeing my 11-year-old little girl in such a state. "Maddy!"

She looked in a daze as foam continued to streak out of her mouth. I couldn't determine the problem, making me feel so useless. Carrying her in this state would be dangerous without knowing her condition, but I didn't care. I wouldn't lose another person I loved. Déjà vu hit me with scenes of when Maddy's mom died in the hospital while giving birth to her. I recalled the feeling of helplessness that got to me back then as well. Never again.

More guards rushed in, and I instantly picked her up from the ground while her body continued to gyrate.

Dame took the keys from my hand and ran outside to turn on the car.

"Stay with me, baby," my voice came out low but firm. "Don't go. Please don't leave me."

"Boss?" Reggie's voice caused me to wake up. Had I been sleeping? Whew! Thank God it had simply been a nightmare. No. That would be wrong. It was a memory that I continued to have as a nightmare. My daughter almost died that night, 10 years ago.

"Yeah, Reggie?"

"Is everything okay?"

I cleaned my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good. Just fell asleep for a moment," I explained.

"I just mentioned cars and your hatred for them. As a driver, I wanted to get your insight. Cars can't be that bad. They're fundamental to your line of work, even. It surprised me that you hate road travel."

Usually, on my way to work in the morning and from work in the evening, I engaged in talks with my driver, Reggie. Two cars followed me as protection, considering my status. One at the front, and another at the back. I hated cars. Everyone knew this because I never drove one. For a while, I became against even being driven, but quickly realized that wasn't feasible as the CEO of a music company.

"Roads annoy me. Being stuffed with other humans for an extended period feels suffocating." To be honest, many parts of my job irritated me or tired me out. I'd been doing this music thing for a while, and I slowly climbed my way up to the zenith of the pop industry, not just here in the city, but in the United States as a whole.

We continued our discussion about driving and roads in general until I got home. I liked having a good rapport with my workers. A good reason was it motivated them to want to serve me more, another stemmed from my immense loneliness, with few people to talk casually about even the most menial stuff, and the last reason came from morality; treating people nicely regardless of their station.

On getting home, I quickly continued my search for the next big thing for Ronald Razor Records. An hour in, I started getting bored. These people were talented, but I couldn’t see that spark, and some of them looked to have attitude problems. Having the talent is only part of the equation. One needed to possess the looks and be easy to work with. People at the company would appreciate a more understanding and sensible talent to work it, especially after the ordeal we had with Frank Dover.

Then I got to her name.

“Maryam Carey,” I said while clicking the link next to her name. Little did I know that this would be the beginning of a shift in my life.

CHAPTER TWO

Maryam Carey’s POV

“And I hope you are using the curries I sent.”

“Yes, Maaaa,” I sang, rolling my eyes at my mother. She loved to dote on me, and even though she could be overbearing, I loved it. As Mother always said, "It's a mother’s job to be too much.” I agreed with her in principle, but man, at that moment, it felt like a lot.

“I’m serious, Maryam. All that green nonsense in LA won’t cut it. I’m sure their curry is nothing compared to home.” Mother stressed the matter.

I’d been living in Los Angeles for just over a year now, so you'd think she’d trust me to be independent. Ever since my music career took off from YouTube, I chose to use this opportunity of exposure to move closer to where I could get signed. My father didn’t mind, but Ma did not like the idea one bit. She despised big cities, part of the reason why we lived in a small town in Colorado. She made the case of me getting a place to stay that was closer to family if I got that adamant about leaving the house.

To me, the focus was less about not staying with my parents anymore and more about moving up the ladder in the music industry. I eventually managed to convince her, even promising her that I’d come back and settle at home if I wasn’t about to find what I searched for in the big city after three years. I used to be excited about places like LA and New York as a child, but staying here for a year made me realize a lot of the things I thought were great about Los Angeles and the music industry as a whole were not quite right. The pretentiousness, willingness to sell your soul for a quick buck or a big break, and connections were a bit too much for me.

Fortunately, I’d found a way to still be happy while living here. I’d performed in smaller shows with a lesser number of people. Those made my performances more intimate. I also advertised them on my YouTube channel with over 2 million subscribers. Due to YouTube revenue, I didn’t need cash. Los Angeles is expensive, though, so I thoroughly considered going back home earlier than usual. Would that mean I failed to make a name for myself?

“Maryam? Are you there? Can you hear me?” My mother always spoke louder than necessary into the phone mic whenever we talked. A typical thing for people her age, though. I found it cute.

“Seriously, Ma. I’m taking the curry.”

“That’s good, honey. Be sure to tell me when it’s finished so I can send more.”

“Sure thing, Ma. Can I speak to Dad?” Mother tended to talk a lot, and Dad didn’t want trouble, so he just let her go on and on.

“Oh, sure thing.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” My father’s cool and calm voice always set me at ease. “How are things over there? Hope you aren’t overworking yourself?”

“No, Dad. I’m good. Things are okay back home, right?”

“Yes, sure. Your mother is a firecracker as always.” I heard her laugh from the background when he said that, and I chuckled, too. “Just be sure to not get lost in the business of it all. Remember who you are and where you come from, okay?” My dad might be a bit too lax at times, leaving my mother to handle a lot of things, but when he spoke, I always listened because he had insightful things to say.

“Okay, Dad. I’ll make you two proud.” I responded, getting a bit emotional. Damn, I missed my family more than I thought.

“No need for that, my dear. We were proud of you since the day you were born!” Ma shouted so I could hear. I scoffed with a smile, and Dad laughed.

“You heard that?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“As someone who used to work in New York and left, I know how hard the busy streets and bright lights can hit, so yeah…we are always here for you, okay?”

“Okay, Dad. Thanks.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” I heard some muffled sounds.

“Honey,” he’d given the phone back to my mother, “just take it easy, okay? We love you.”

“I love you, too. Ma, I gotta go now. Talk to you later.”

“Eat a lot!” Ma added and I laughed. “Byyyyyye!”

“Bye, Ma.” I cut the call, taking a moment to smile and stare at the ceiling of my room. I had a fanbase that loved me and parents that cared for me so much. Was this all worth it? Chasing for more? Shouldn’t I be content with what I had? All these questions entered my mind. Inquiries I had, but no simple answers to give.

What are you doing? I asked myself. My head rested on my bed while I stared at the ceiling, contemplating my decisions until now. I felt like I stood at a crossroads. Do I go back home where it is safe and calm, or do I keep fighting for what my heart yearned for even as it became more and more unattainable?

My phone rang, but I didn’t answer. My mind wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone right now. But what if it’s Mom? I got uncomfortable with the idea of not picking up my mother’s call.