My Butterfly

Chapter Thirty-One District 9

“What’s this all about?” Chris asked when he entered the room.

“Not sure,” Matt said.

Daniel, Matt and I were already seated around a big desk in a small office. There was a window that overlooked the street behind the desk. And on the desk, there were office gadgets resembling every piece of the music industry you could dream up — including a guitar that was also a tape dispenser and a microphone that moonlighted as a lamp. I took a deep breath. The room smelled like a mixture of that cologne Jesse always wore and some kind of weird smell that came from an air freshener contraption on a shelf filled with little glass trophies. The contraption made a noise every couple of seconds and then puffed out a misty fog. I watched the fog now as it followed a path to the desk and then eventually disappeared. Then, I caught Matt’s stare. He held his gaze on me until I shrugged my shoulders and sat back in my chair.

Jesse flew into the room seconds later in perfect Jesse fashion — quick and dramatic. He looked as if he were in a rush; but then again, he always looked as if he were in a rush.

“How’s it going, guys?” he asked, falling into the leather chair behind the big desk.

He always asked the same question. But we knew not to answer it. There was never enough time from when he asked it to when he started talking again.

“I’ve got this band that’s interested in having you guys as the guest artists on their album,” he quickly went on. “Have you guys ever heard of Ren Lake?”

We all looked at each other like this guy was suddenly going to grow a snout and wings and fly out of the room and take the dream with him. This went on for a few seconds.

“Is that the knock-off of the real Ren Lake or something?” Chris eventually asked, chuckling to himself and sending us a quick glance.

We all kind of snickered, but Jesse just smiled and lowered his eyes to a spot on the surface of his desk.

“Good guess, but no,” he said, lifting his eyes again.

“Wait, you’re not telling us it’s the real Ren Lake?” Daniel asked.

Jesse’s mouth started to slowly turn up at its edges.

“I’m telling you there’s only one Ren Lake, and they want District 9,” he said.

The room instantly grew silent then. We all seemed to be studying the slender man facing us. Even I watched his every move: his every eye blink, the way he kept biting his bottom lip and furrowing his brow — as if he didn’t quite know what to make of our silence.

“Wow,” Chris eventually shouted. “Well, what did you tell them?”

Jesse paused for a moment.

“Well, I told them that I would have to talk to you guys first but that I think it would be a great fit.”

“Hot damn,” Chris shouted again.

He held his hand up in the air in front of Daniel, and Daniel high-fived it.

“So, what does this mean exactly?” Matt asked.

“Well, it means that you guys will be a part of Ren Lake’s new album, which means a lot more exposure for you. And we can never tell for sure where that exposure might lead, but the hope is that there will be more and bigger gigs, and in the future, possibly an album.”

“An album!” Chris shouted.

“Now, it would also most likely require significantly more time from you guys,” Jesse continued. “And I know you have the firefighter gig. I don’t know if, need be, you could take a leave of absence or something like that or even think about music as a career.”

Jesse sat back in his big, leather chair and smiled. I found Matt’s stare and then Daniel’s. Then, Jesse sat back up and shuffled some papers around his desk.

“But we can cross that bridge when we get there,” he said. “So, you guys in?”

We all looked at each other one more time. I tried to hold back a smile, but I couldn’t. And Chris and Daniel were already smiling when the corners of Matt’s mouth started to twitch upward.

“This only happens maybe once in a lifetime,” Chris said, his eyes big.

Matt shrugged his shoulders.

“We can figure the rest out as it comes, I guess,” Matt said.

I glanced at Daniel. He was nodding his head in agreement.

My eyes fell back onto Jesse, who had since abandoned the papers on his desk and now seemed to devote his full attention to the four of us.

“I think we’re in,” I said to him.

Jesse slowly nodded and then smiled.

“I thought you would be,” he said.