Another Broken Girl

Chapter 57

 Ali's POV

I look in the mirror one last time before I leave to meet the producer. After a few more minutes I finally go downstairs and see Leo waiting for me. Once he sees me he gives me a genuine smile.

"Good luck." He says patting my back.

"Thanks, I need it." I laugh.

"You'll do great. Don't worry." He says. "Are you sure you don't want me to drop up off?"

"I'm alright. I better go now. I don't want to be late." I say heading out the door.

"Don't screw up!" he says once I'm about to enter the car.

"I'm going to need a miracle for that to happen!" I yell back at him beginning to drive.

The closer I get to the building the more nervous I get. Anything can happen once I get there. I can spill coffee on his lap, I can accidently trip him, or I can even kill him. I let out a breath and take a deep breath in. I connect my phone to the speakers of the car and select a song to play. It won't be that bad. I hope.

Once I get to the building I notice that it isn't a building at all. It's a house. A big one too. The house stretches out as long as two football fields. I can practically feel my bundle of nerves bursting and dancing around everywhere.

"State your business." A speaker says at the gate of the house.

"Um," I say nervously, "I'm here for my interview?" I say more of a question.

"What's your name?" the speaker speaks again.

"Ali, Ali Brooks." I say.

"Ah, I see. You're just on time." The speaker says then opens the gates. Once the gates are open I'm greeted by a fountain. And it isn't some small one you find at parks, it's a big one that can reach all the way to the skies. I start to feel embarrassed because here I am in my little dark green Jeep in the driveway of a millionaire, sorry excuse me, billionaire. I'm starting to rethink my old band tee and black jeans.

"Ali!" The girl from the diner, Merissa, calls out to me from her front door.

"Hey," I say feeling like I should just run back home now, "you didn't tell me that the interview is at your house."

"Dad always does his interviews here, he wants his clients to feel at home." She answers.

Merissa leads me to her dad's office and leaves me at his door for me to wait. She said that he'll call me when he's ready. Merissa also told me to calm down, and just be myself. Which would have been easier if I weren't at a big ass mansion that's holding my only chance at hitting the big time.

"Come in!" I hear him yell. I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of it.

"Hi, Mr. Sanders." I say shaky.

"Please, take a seat." He says with a smile on his face.

"Thank you for having me." I say taking a seat on one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

"No, thank you for coming. I heard your voice and you, my friend, have a voice. I can see big things happening for you."

"Oh, I don't think I'm all that grate." I say feeling myself blushing.

"Selflessness. I like that, I also like the look you have going on there." He says.

"Thanks." I say surprised looking down at my Mayday Parade shirt and black jeans.

"Come with me." He says beginning to walk out the room. He's a fast walker, so I have to fight to keep up with him.

"I want you to sing for me." He says leading me into a new room.

"Oh, I didn't realize I would be singing, I don't have my guitar." I say horrified.

"Don't worry, you can chose one." He says.

When I enter the room I'm greeted by a studio. A real one. The kind you would record an album in. To the side there's lines of guitars. It's so beautiful I think I can cry.

"Wow." I murmur. I pick one up and head into the other room where the microphone is. Once I enter I see a stool that is placed next to the microphone so I quickly take a seat on it.

"Alright," Mr. Sanders says that goes through a speaker inside the room, "I'm ready when you are."

"Is there a specific song you wanted me to sing?" I asked loudly while staring at him through the see-through window.

"I want you to pick, just put on those headphones hanging on the microphone and pretend I'm not here."

I put on the headphones and think for a second. I wasn't sure what to sing. I thought about doing something popular, but I don't really listen to that kind of music. So, I just decided to go with my gut.

"Little lady, this is the worse way to spend your birthday. It's 30 degrees Thursday." I begin. I watch them looking at me and shaking their head in satisfaction, and then next thing I know, I close my eyes.

"And we're all under the upper hand. And go mad for a couple grams. And we don't want to go outside, tonight. Because in a pipe, she'll fly to the motherland, sell love to another man. It's too cold outside, for angels to fly, fly, fly. For angels to fly, to fly, to fly. Angels to die."

I finish up and open my eyes again. I see them still looking at me. They have smiles on their faces as I come out of the recording room.

"That was an interesting song choice." Mr. Sanders says.

"Yeah, I just thought it was good choice because I wanted something deep and meaningful, and not something you hear on the radio everyday." I say not feeling nervous anymore. He nods understanding.

"It was risky, I like that about you too." He says with a slight smile. "I just have one question for you."

"Yes?" I say.

"Why do you want to be famous?" He asks. I think for a while. Not to think for a reason, but to put the words together.

"I want to help people." I finally say.

"Help?" he asks.

"Yeah, I know how it feels like to be in a tough situation and not having the will to go on. I know that there is people out there who are looking for a sign, or a person so I want to be that sign. I don't just want to be some singer," I pause, "I want to be a singer who changes peoples' lives."

He lightly nods his head and stays there in silence. He was thinking, and you can tell. I start to feel nervous again the longer the silence grew. I felt like I was going to throw up right there.

"I mean, if that's okay with you." I add in.

"I like you." He laughs. "I'll call you." He says beginning to stand up.