//------------------------------// // Chapter 7 // Story: Sometimes You Make It... // by Indie Cred //------------------------------// Indie went straight to the warehouse and knocked on Mr. Shipley’s door. Mr. Shipley opened it, startled. “Indie? You’ve been off for more than an hour, why are you still here?” “I got some interesting news, sir. I won’t be in to work this week.” “Oh? And why is that? Win the lottery?” “No. Nothing like that. The club I play at is closing down for good. I’ll be playing the final show. I need time to prepare.” “There’s no guarantee your job will still be here if you leave, Indie.” “Well, no offense sir, but there are other jobs out there. This is my only chance for this show. I’m sure you understand” Indie said, turning to leave. “Think about this, Indie! You’re throwing away a paying job for some hobby!” Indie opened the door to his apartment and stared at the collection. This was it. This was his show. If this was how it was going to end, he wasn’t going to disappoint. He began poring over the collection, making small piles all over the room. “No. No. No. This one should work…” He muttered to himself, engrossed in his planning. Slowly, his stacks grew. The began to mix together, and others were pushed towards the walls. He laid out records in lines, switching their positions every once in a while, trying to formulate the perfect playlist. “What do you mean you’re dropping him?!” Vinyl shouted. Mr. Green, somewhat surprised, said “He’s just not working out… We’ve tried to make him more… palatable to audiences, but he’s just not what we’re… What they’re looking for.” Indie sat in his chair next to Vinyl, silently staring at a crack in the plaster on the wall beside him. “Palatable?! What does that even mean?!” Vinyl shouted, again startling Mr. Green. “Please, calm down. Basically, he’s not crowd friendly. Indie, you’re fine onstage, but when you’re not in the booth you… How do I put this… Ponies don’t find you approachable. Your counterpart here walks around town like she owns the place, and everyone loves it. She plays along with the media. You tend to shy away.” “So because he doesn’t like being in the spotlight all the time, you’re going to drop him?!” Vinyl screamed again. “Vinyl, hon. It’s okay. I figured this was coming…” Indie said quietly. “This won’t affect her contract will it?” “Well, there’s the big problem. You signed together as one act. If we drop you, we have to drop her too.” “No. Do what you have to, just keep her on. I’d rather one of us made it than neither.” “I’ll see what I can do…” said Mr. Green, stepping towards the door. “I’ll give you two a few minutes while I talk to legal.” Mr. Green walked out, shutting the door behind him. “What are you doing?! You can’t just quit on me!” Vinyl said, tearing slightly. “I’m not quitting. I’m being fired. I’m just making sure I don’t take you down with me.” “You idiot! Stop doing this! You’re throwing everything away because you won’t just play the game!” “Vinyl… It’s going to happen. I’d rather it happens on my terms than theirs.” Vinyl looked away from him, and quietly said “What about my terms? Don’t I get a say?” “What would you have me do?!” Indie shouted. Vinyl jumped a bit, and turned to stare at him. “At least try! Every time things get hard you just give up! Just try! If you won’t do it for yourself… Then do it for me… Do it for us…” She began to sob. “I can’t. All it will do is get you fired too. I’m not going to do that to you. I’m not going to ruin your dream so I can keep my pride.” “Forget it then! Get out!” Vinyl yelled, tears in her eyes. “Just leave! I’m sick of this whole thing anyways…” Indie stood up, pushed the chair back to the desk and opened the door. “It’s for the best. I still love you.” “Just go…” Vinyl sobbed. Indie sat in front of the pile of records he’d chosen, staring at nothing. It was him this whole time. Everything that had gone wrong was because of him. He’d blamed his family, he’d blamed the studio, and worst of all, he’d blamed Vinyl. No more. This show was going to be his turning point. After this weekend, nothing would be the same again.