Adrenaline

24 | it was a bad time

I land back in Los Angeles after a fifteen-hour non-stop flight from Melbourne.

        Jenny picks me up from the airport with a cup of coffee hot enough she could convince me she made it herself right there in the car.

        "How was the race?" she asks once I take a sip and she determines I'm more human than jetlag. "I saw Bash got second. That's a good way to start the season."

        "Could've gotten P1 but Idris was too fast," I grumble. "But yeah, it was good. If you're not winning a race, it's hard to beat at least getting up on the podium for your home Grand Prix."

        In response, Jenny lifts the to-go cup to my lips again.

        "Marty has something to talk to you about and then there's a meeting this afternoon," she announces while flipping on her blinker to merge into the next lane.

        "Something I should be concerned about?"

        "Nothing bad," she assures me. "Just something with the magazine."

        The only magazine we've worked with recently is the profile MARS did two months ago. While it feels like a long time to reach out to correct something, these things take months to complete.

        "If you say so."

        I spend the rest of the car ride sipping my coffee and nibbling on the chocolate croissant. By the time we arrive at the house, the only one awake is Rami but he's got his headphones plugged in.

        Marty's daughter is playing in the living room while the man himself is sitting on the patio. I brush my fingers through her hair, muttering a hello, before joining him. A breeze coasts through the backyard offering reprieve from the morning heat.

        "Where's the protein shake and dozens of egg whites?"

        "Very funny." Marty clicks his phone off. "I thought I'd pull you aside for this one so you can decide when and where you want to let the rest of the band know."

        While his tone indicates this is business, a delicate smile tugs at the corners of his mouth so I assume it's good news. I'm not sure why he's making this secretive, though. Not until he opens his mouth again.

        "Forbes reached out a few months ago saying you were nominated for their upcoming 30 under 30 list, which is subject to rounds of judging and elimination. I thought it'd be best to keep things under wraps for now. But they just let me know you were selected as one of the finalists and they would like to schedule a time for you to come in and do an interview, photoshoot, that sort of thing."

        I almost spill my coffee on the ground.

        I don't check the Forbes 30 under 30 lists every year, but to have my name attached to an iconic name in the industry is something I can only dream of before today.

        I can't explain this feeling in my chest. Maybe I'm making this a bigger deal than it needs to be, but my heart flutters in my chest.

        "Are you serious? I'm one of their 30 under 30?"

        "Yes, I believe that's what I just said."

        I throw my trash at him. "Marty! I can't believe you kept this from me!"

        He flicks the crumbs off his shirt. "I didn't want you to be disappointed if you didn't make it. And you were literally on a flight when I found out so I figured you'd rather learn in person."

        "Wait. Nobody else from the band?"

        He shakes his head.

        "Oh."