Strings Attached

Chapter 78

"You can't just wear jeans to a meeting that could possibly shape your entire future!" Anna protests.

"But I don't want to wear a suit!" Castiel whines.

"Too bad! You have to look presentable. This is your first impression."

"Exactly!" Castiel replies. "And I don't want their first impression of me to be someone that wears suits all the time!"

"But you want them to think you're all formal and fancy and cool and stuff!" Anna insists.

"Not really," Castiel replies. "Suits make you look unapproachable and boring. Not exactly the look I'm going for. I'll stick with jeans and a hoodie."

Anna groans. "Oh my god, Castiel! Just put on a suit!"

"No," Castiel repeats.

"I'm telling you, the suit would look way better."

"I don't care," Castiel replies. "I am not wearing a suit."

"I'm gonna go get Gabriel and Lucifer to convince you to," Anna announces.

After at least five minutes, they decide it's not worth it. Castiel has a feeling that's mostly because they don't really care.

"Okay, fine, be difficult!" Anna gives in finally. "You don't have to wear a suit. But it would make this go way better. Seriously."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm still going in this, so..."

"Sure, whatever. Just don't blame me when they don't like you."

~~

"Castiel Novak?" a voice calls.

Castiel gets up hesitantly. Well, here he goes. He's about to pitch his songs.

"Good luck," Lucifer whispers. "And if you purposely screw this up..."

"I won't," Castiel assures him. Knowing him, he'll screw it up by accident, but he's used to that.

He follows the man that called his name into a smaller office room instead of that opening area he was waiting in. The man takes a seat behind a desk, and gestures for Castiel to sit in the seat across from him. Castiel obliges, sitting up tall because he's too nervous to sit like a normal person.

"Alright, I'm Jim Michaels," he introduces himself. "So, this is how this is going to go, just so you know what to expect. I'll take a look at what you brought, maybe have you sing a little of it so I can get a feel for it, and we probably won't get back to you for a week or two, maybe longer. That sound good?"

Castiel nods. "Yep." He's proud of how composed he seems right now, because he's a mess on the inside. He didn't realize he'd have to sing. He has absolutely no idea what his voice sounds like, or if it's any good. Here's hoping he isn't a colossal failure.

"But first," Jim adds, "a couple questions. I just want to make sure your parents are okay with this, because we can't do anything without their consent."

"My dad's fine with it," Castiel tells him. Chuck wouldn't get in the way of his chance to shine. Not that he's really looking forward to shining, and he's sort of hoping he doesn't. Now that he's here, though, the idea of succeeding isn't as dreadful as it had been.

"Great," Jim replies. "And how old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Wow," Jim says, appearing impressed. "And how long have you been writing music?"

Castiel shrugs. "Sixth grade, maybe?"

"Wow," he repeats. "That's pretty young."

"Well, I grew up fast," Castiel replies. He sort of had to, with his crazy life.