Facing Managment
I never knew one moment, one stupid thing I did could change my life forever. "Are you ready?" someone called from the other room. "Yea, you got the bags?" I said back. "Yep, let's go." So, I followed him out the door, not knowing what I was getting myself into. We were both already high, completely wasted. I guess my logic was, 'I won't remember this in the morning, no big deal!' Boy, was I wrong!
Not even two hours later, we were arrested on LaGrande Ave for dealing crack. In the backseat of the squad car, on the way down to the cop shop I had plenty of time to think about the mess I had gotten myself into. No, wait, the mess Andrew had gotten me into. He's the one that convinced me to try the drugs and to deal them. We weren't good friends anyway. Last weekend, I had been out at a club drinking, I mean, hey, it was my 21st birthday! Of course I was out drinking… what else would I be doing. Then I met Andrew, no chemistry or anything. Just something one night, well, it ended up being three nights and then all of this happened.
Andrew and I were then put in a small, smelly, jail cell. More time to think. I am sitting on one bench, he on the other. "We'll be out in the morning, I promise." He said casually. "Yea, and how do you expect us to do that?" I asked skeptically. "My buddy's will post our bail. They always do." Andrew smiled. "Sure, with their drug money!" I screamed. "Shut up! Do you want them to hear?" He screamed back pointing at the guard who was sleeping outside the cell. "Just one question for ya, do you ever think?" I paused, and then continued before he could answer, "Oh wait, you're a guy, of course you never think." I repositioned myself on the bench so I wouldn't be facing him.
We both sat silently for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, a different guard, this one female, walked over to the door of the cell. Andrew jumped up and ran over to the door. "Not you, just her." The woman said pointing in my direction. "Your bail has been posted. "By who?" I had to ask. "By me." A man's voice said from the doorway. He stepped into the light where I could see him. Yet, I still could hardly see his face, my vision was starting to blur, I was coming off of my high. "By me." He repeated must've been obvious to him that I was doped up. I now could recognize his voice though. It was Kevin, my manager.
I'm a singer, pretty successful actually. I was signed to KBNHA Records when I was 19. As I told you earlier, I'm 21 now, with two gold albums, three Grammy nominations and one win to my name. I guess I would consider myself a star. Not that any of this'll matter now. I can see it coming "BEHIND THE MUSIC: THE NORA STORY."
I knew that I'd have to face the management with this crap sooner or later. I was just hoping it would be later. I am glad that Kevin came down though and not one of his little minions. He's having all these students interning at the firm so that they can get a taste of what the job is really like. Although it just seems to me that he is trying to get out of doing some extra work, but hey, whatever works for him right?
I climbed into the passenger's seat of Kevin's Ford Expedition and he drove me home. "All I want to know, is what the hell were you thinking?" Kevin asked not looking at me. "Nothing." I answered. "Obviously." I hated when Kevin would answer me with one word. But he is a man of few words so I wasn't incredibly surprised at his response.
"The management already knows, you have a meeting with them first thing in the morning. Hope you've come up with a good story." He said as we pulled up next to my house off of 6th Street. "I'm sorry." I couldn't cope with anything else to say so I kept it simple. "It's not me you have to be sorry for. It's your fans. Betcha twenty bucks its in the tabs already." Kevin said referring of course to the nosey tabloid writers that seem to be practically psychic with how fast they learn about the latest juicy gossip.
"I know. I know. Why don't we schedule a press conference or something?" I suggested as I got out of the truck. "I would advise against that Nora. We'll talk this all out tomorrow." Kevin once again offered his grand expertise on the subject.
As he drove away I just stood outside the door of my beach house with a blank stare on my face. How can I get myself out of this mess? I could run away… become one of the many celebrities who just 'vanishes'. I could change my identity, or just hide out in the basement for the rest of my life. But Lord knows, someone would find me, my luck; it'd be Kevin who would locate my hiding place.
I walked into the living room of my house, completely silent. I live alone and sometimes it is simply to quiet, no one to talk to about anything, not that I wanted to talk about this mess. I went over to the phone, picked it up and started to dial a number. I wasn't sure why or who I would talk to, but I dialed a random number. A man picked up on the other end.
"Hello?" he asked. "Hi, I was wondering what you think of the singer Nora?" Hoping he wouldn't recognize my signature voice. "I liked her stuff, so did my daughter, but I just heard she's a crack addict so I threw her CD away. I don't want my daughter listening to a someone who does crack, not much of a role model anymore." The man said. "Thank you sir." I hung up and sat down on the plush velvet couch.
It was now official. My life was over. I've already lost two fans and it's only been a few hours since the 'incident'.
That night I didn't sleep. I sat on the couch all night. Not really thinking of anything, just sitting. Eight o'clock am rolled around and the phone rang. I picked it up, "Uh, huh." I said in a monotone voice. "Nora, I'll be there to pick you up in ten minutes." It was Kevin. I'd have to face him… again. I rolled my eyes and agreed that I'd be ready when he got here.
I went upstairs to my bedroom and grabbed some clothes out of the closet. I didn't care how I looked or who I'd see today so I put on a pair of worn-out jeans and a UCSC sweatshirt. Moments later the doorbell rang. I picked myself up off of the bed and went back downstairs.
When I opened the door, to my surprise it wasn't Kevin standing there with his normal puckered brow. It was, what else, a news crew. "Nora, could we get a statement." "Over here." "Are you checking into rehab?" Questions flew at me faster than I could take it all in. "No comment." I said and slammed the door. I turned around to see Kevin standing right behind me. "How did you get in here?" I asked startled by his presence. He held up a key. I had forgotten he took my keys last night and probably came in through the back door.
"Saying no comment is like saying yes." Kevin said setting my keys on the coffee table. "What would you have done?" Kevin's way of talking when he was angry always made me feel like I was an inch tall. Not only is he at least a foot taller than me, but his deep voice compared to my falsetto sound was quite different. Kevin waved his hand and ushered me out the door. I peeked out first to see if the reporters were gone, which they weren't. I shuddered and bore with it. I put on my sunglasses and walked out the door with my head held high. 'Never let them see you down.' I told myself. More questions darted my way but this time I said nothing. "Not now, not now!" Kevin held his hand in front of a few of the cameras.
"I think I'll just retire! Hide out for the rest of my life surviving on macaroni and cheese and top ramen." I said sulking down in the seat of Kevin's SUV. "Very funny." He said back, again with his simple sentences. The rest of the trip to the management office, or at least that's where I guess we were going, was silent.
While we were driving, I was starting to get shaky. Since I had been on a cocaine binge for about the last week, it was like my body needed it now. And I knew Kevin noticed. We drove along the highway for about fifteen minutes, and went right past the management office. "Um…" I said trailing off. "We're going somewhere else. You need to see this." Shortly after, he pulled up to a large white building and tossed a manila envelope on my lap. "Before we go in, look at these."
I opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of pictures. Once again, those celebrity photographers had done their job. The pictures of were Andrew and I when we were at the club, getting high, and dealing. I quietly started to cry. Kevin had no emotions. He wasn't comforting me, wasn't sympathetic at all. It seemed like this whole ordeal had changed him more than it had changed me. He really hadn't said that much to me at all. Just that I shouldn't talk until he figures out what I should say. It was his way of 'taking charge' of everything, as if he could make it all better. Which, at this point I don't think he could have, no one could get me out of this, no one but myself.
I slid the pictures back into the envelope and opened the car door. We walked up to the large building and went inside. "It's a spiritual healing center." Kevin said as I looked at everyone around me. They were all dressed it white pajamas (or at least that is what they looked like). Everyone seemed so at ease, so calm. "I, uh, I don't think so. I can't do this." I turned around to walk back out the door. "Nora. It is either this, or you could go into rehab and face more of the press."  I stood silently. "Here, no one judges you, they don't ask why, you are anonymous, they'll give you a code name here to protect your privacy."
THAT IS ALL FOR NOW, PLEASE CHECK BACK TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS TO NORA!