Chapter Two

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Once myself and Nancy are checked in at the beachside hotel and have unpacked our small weekend suitcases, the panic truly starts to set in.

This is just crazy.

This is so scary.

I am just about to meet with Doug DiCarto, to discuss singing on one of his tracks. On one of his tracks! My mind is whirring around a hundred miles per hour. My heart is racing and I actually think I might be sick with nerves.

As we head for the door, I suddenly stop. "I don't think I can do this, Nance? I think this is just a stupid mistake that I'm about to make?"

Nancy starts using that soothing voice of hers, gentle and placating. "Frankie, you can do this. You've come so far, hun...don't throw this chance away on account of something that nearly destroyed you years ago."

I blink, slowly and calmly.

I breathe, in and then back out.

"I know I've come so far, but Doug DiCarto is immersed in something that I have been running from, Nance. The stage is what defines him, yet it destroys me." Fear literally runs cold up and down my spine. The fear is what's preventing me from taking another step forward. "Maybe you should go and meet with him? You'd be more suited to work with him, anyway?" I'm irrationally talking now, just throwing silly ideas around because I'm too damn scared to open that hotel room door.

Nancy soothingly strokes both of my arms, smiling at me in a knowing way. "He has asked for you, Frankie. Doug DiCarto wants your voice, not mine." Her green eyes hold their caring gaze. "Don't let what happened to you, turn this chance to dust, Frankie?"

From god knows where, I find the strength to open the door. I find the strength to meet with Doug DiCarto.

I can do this!

I can do this!

Is my nervous mantra as I walk right to the end of the hotel corridor. Nancy is holding my hand, squeezing it tightly to stop me bailing out from this meeting.

I am doing this!

I am doing this!

My nervous mantra goes on as I reach room number 34. The room where Doug DiCarto awaits my company. Before I knock, I inhale deeply. I inhale, and just hope the nauseousness will subside.

As I exhale, my eyes flick to Nancy's before finally rapping my knuckles threes times on the hotel door. While we wait for someone to answer, Nancy finally lets go of my hand with a confidence-giving smile. "Just be the sassy ass you know you can be." She whispers to me with a small sideways smirk.

My smirk is positively feeble in return to hers. "I'll do my best." I say, just as the door happens to swing open in front of us. There, stands a long-haired blonde guy, music loudly being heard from behind him. "Hi, I'm Frankie Fenner...Doug should be expecting me?" I'm now scanning the room, there's four or five guys, a couple of girls wearing skimpy summer dresses, all chatting and laughing in different areas of the large hotel suite.

"Yeah, I think he is." The guy casually drawls out. "Come on in." He stands back, allowing us inside the very lively room.

Doug DiCarto being Doug DiCarto, appears to be having a late afternoon party. I don't know why I was expecting a civilised and quiet meeting with him, because I already knew that his party lifestyle often continues long after he has left the decks. He has fully established himself in the music press as a party animal. He is hailed as one of the most eligible and hottest DJ's to walk the planet. He is rumoured to be passionate both on and off the decks. The music press love him, almost as much as the women do. Yup, knickers are supposedly never safe around Doug DiCarto, because when he piles on the charm, they are supposedly coming off.

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