The following is a stand-alone short story, a prelude to the official rewrite of my upcoming novel Fly Girl.

Feel free to follow along with the full novel on Wattpad.

 

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Torii Mercier slammed her locker shut, wondering how she’d even found herself in random conversation with someone she rarely sat in the same social circles with. She sighed, walking away as quickly as her feet would carry her. The girl followed behind closely, continuing before Torii could insist she stop. She made mention of Torii’s sister hoping to strike a good nerve. “Troy auditions for anything that comes, and she does it because it makes her happy. She wants to be the pop star, not me.”

“She does it, because she’s smart enough to use her gifts to get the hell up out of here.”

Torii paused, facing the person intruding on her personal time and space. “Look, Miranda-“

“Randy is fine.”

“Okay, Randy, listen… I appreciate the vote of confidence that comes from you and everyone else. But just because a person has one special gift, that doesn’t mean that gift flows with the plan they have for themselves.”

Miranda Parker, a bit of a nervous soul, shifted her weight from one leg to the other. She scoffed, amazed at how simple the truly gifted seemed to be. “If I had a voice like yours, I’d be singing from a damn mountain top. Don’t you understand what could happen if you audition?”

“I don’t care.”

“Then what do you care about?!” Torii wondered why it mattered to anyone else what she did. Lots of people in the world had a variety of talents; some who never discovered them, and others who squandered them by choice.

“Whatever I choose to do, I’m going to be successful because I’m going to work hard at it. No talent is needed for an extra edge.”

“Extra edge gets you further in life. Do you really want to be stuck here forever?”

She didn’t, and there was nothing worthwhile in their little hometown. But, Torii had never been anywhere else to know if there was truly better elsewhere. Had never even thought of where she would go if she did gain a way out.

“Okay, so maybe I want to be involved in music in some fashion. If I had to sing, fine. But I just want to kick it in the background, where the real money is made.”

“Nobody shows love to the background singers.”

“And unless you have an amazing contract, the lead singers don’t always make bank either.” Miranda stood straight, intrigued. “The songwriters do, and often for a lifetime. I love writing.” A smile danced across her face. “I dream of penning number one hits, top tens and twenties. Writing for Celine Dion and Gladys Knight. I imagine myself the next Diane Warren. Troy sings, and if she’d have me on her team I’d write the hits. That’s the dream. Since there’s nothing for writers here, nothing else intrigues me. But thanks, Randy, for making me think of what I’d like to do for myself. It was a nice thought.”

Torii said goodbye, rushing off to her English class.

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