Expectations

Chapter 2

The cool air of the arena surrounds me as we finally make our way to the floor in front of the stage. Finding our way backstage was a nightmare due to the number of people running around trying to get everything set up.

I instantly regret not wearing a light jacket in here, but how was I supposed to think to bring a jacket when it's currently the start of summer in L.A.? Plus, I'm used to having to work outside in the heat all summer with my brother's band on tour and in stuffy clubs. Again, maybe this won't be so bad.

The normally obnoxious rolling sound of the wheels gliding on the bottom of my suitcase is hardly audible due to all of the noise from the construction going on. I look up at the stage and it's already massive without even being completely set up. They're still loading in all of the light up screens and the remainder of the runway they must have just started on.

"So, what do you think?" a voice yells from behind me and my dad.

We both turn around to see Bob walking towards us with his hands out to the sides, gesturing to everything going on around us. He's been my dad's good friend since I was little. They've worked on a few tours together and still keep in touch. He's the one who referred me to Alex's manager, Chris.

"Bob, how've you been, man?" my dad asks, smiling at the bald, beer bellied man wearing a black polo and cargo shorts with black tennis shoes.

"Good, man. It's nice to see you, Jeff," he says, briefly hugging my dad and giving him a clap on the back. "Hey there, little lady. Well, I guess you're not so little anymore," he says, turning to me, opening his arms for a hug to which I comply.

"Hey, Bob." I laugh, because that's what he always says. It's only been two or three years since I last saw him, so I don't think I've changed that much, or even grown. He on the other hand has changed a bit. His once graying beard and mustache is almost completely white now.

Bob's a really nice guy. He's always been really laid back and friendly to everyone. He's just one of those people everyone seems to like and get along with. He doesn't talk too much or too little, cracks a few jokes once in a while, and is a simple man.

"Thank you so much for doing this," I say as we pull apart from our hug.

"Oh it's no problem at all, Joslyn. I just overheard Chris talking about needing a new assistant one day and I ended up mentioning you. I know how hard you've worked over the years and how bad you want to be like your old man one day. He won't shut up about it whenever we talk on the phone," he says, jokingly punching my dad in the shoulder.

I laugh. "Yeah, well, this is a great start. Too good of a start," I admit.

"This isn't really a start, Joss. Do you know how long you've been putting up with Joe and the rest of the hooligans?" my dad jokes.

"Yeah, I guess this won't be too much of a change from what I normally do," I say, trying to ease my mind a bit.

"Watch it! Coming through!" someone yells as another set of equipment is being loaded in by a number of crew members. We all cautiously move out of the way, not wanting to be plowed over.