I was playing guitar in the dining room when Madison walked in.
“Dude, you’re killin’ it!” she shouted.
“It’s not that good.”
“Dude you lie!” Madison was serious. “That song is great! I want you to perform that song at the next Simfest.”
I shook my head. “Uh-uh. No way.”
“Dude, you grew up around music, you said it yourself.”
“I grew up around classical music,” I retorted. “Musical theater, orchestras, that kind of thing. My parents were –”
“I know who your parents were,” Madison said, “Everyone who’s ever studied music in Simland knows who your parents were. But you can’t keep living in their shadow. You have to make your own mark.”
As Madison helped me into my space suit for the day’s shoot, she whispered in my ear, “Who’s that song about?”
“What song?”
“That song you were performing in the dining room. It’s about somebody.”
“No, it’s not about anyone in particular.”
“You lie! You wrote that song about somebody. It’s a beautiful song, really it is. You don’t have to tell me who it is, but I know it’s about somebody. Breakup songs are the easiest ones to get hits out of. You are going to perform that song at Simfest – and I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
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