taken seriously,” I admit after a while. “What if I suck?”
He shrugs. “There’s always a chance that’s true. In the spirit of honesty, there will most definitely be people who will look at your work and think, what a talentless asshole.”
“Oh wow. I feel so much better now.”
He raises his brow. “You want empty platitudes, or do you want the truth?”
“Empty platitudes all the way,” I say with a straight face. “Slather me with compliments and praise. I was under the impression that it was in the job description of a best friend?”
“No,” he scoffs. “You know I’m not a groupie, right?”
“Wait. People who aren’t rock stars get to have them, too? Why wasn’t I informed during the orientation?”
“You don’t need meaningless praise,” Gray says sternly.
“I don’t know. I could use some ass kissing right now.”
“No you don’t. Here’s a little mental exercise for you: What’s the worst thing that could happen if you go through with starting your own business?”
I take a moment to picture the worst-case scenarios. There are a lot, so it’s difficult to only pick one.
“Nobody wants to buy my stuff,” I eventually say. “I’ll end up with a boatload of, I don’t even know… chairs that’ll remind me of my failure for years to come. Eventually I’ll start conversing to the chairs because I’m so bitter and lonely, and before you know it, I’ll start treating them as my children, and you’ll start receiving Christmas cards from me and my family of chairs. I’ll die surrounded by my chair children, and you’ll have to transport them all to my funeral and set them up next to the grave, which is both sad and convenient because my human mourners, the few there might be, can sit on my kids.”
Grayson just stares at me for a long time. “Well, that escalated quickly. Exactly how many chairs would there be? I might need a bigger car.”
“So you agree that this is going to happen?”
“Yes,” he says tonelessly. “Obviously this is the most likely outcome.”
“Well, fuck me. It’s like being a cat lady only a million times worse. A chair man. But not the successful kind.”
Gray lets out an impatient breath. “You’re not going to end up befriending a bunch of chairs.”
“Of course I won’t. Weren’t you listening? They’ll be my family. Oh shit! I’m going to give chair sex a whole new meaning.”
“Jesus Christ,” Gray mutters and looks to the ceiling as if seeking help. “Okay. First of all, I thought the chairs were going to be your children? Because if that’s the case, you’ve managed to make this whole thing even more disturbing.”
“I’ll obviously pick one of the chairs to be my lawfully wedded husband. I’m not going to be a single father, Grayson.”
“Sure. Congrats. I’m just gonna throw it out there that I will be busy whenever the wedding is,” he says.
“Don’t worry. You’re not invited. We’ll elope.”
Gray looks scandalized. “I’m your best friend!” He shakes his head as if trying to clear it. “Forget I said that,” he adds quickly and takes a deep breath. “Let’s… put that particular train of crazy aside for a while. Just, push it far, far away from our minds. To another galaxy, if at all possible.”
I snort. I already feel lighter. It’s the Grayson-effect in full swing. He places his palm on my shoulder and squeezes it.
“I’m in your corner, no matter what. You really want to work in a bar again? Go for it, even though, may I remind you that you hated it because you’ll be grumpy without adequate sleep? So just for fun, let’s imagine for a second that you won’t find a job, and instead, you’ll give yourself a chance and go for it. I mean, the alternative is that you’ll become one of those idiots who touts his could-have-been success story like those quarterbacks that peak in high school, and frankly, I’d prefer the failure and the subsequent chair children to having to listen to you going on and on about how you could have been somebody great for the next fifty years.”
He lets out a deep breath once he’s done with his tirade, and I follow his example. I stare out the window for a while and let Gray’s words play in my mind on a loop. In the end, the nerves gradually lessen. Gray believes in me. I can do it. I repeat it like a mantra a few more times to pump myself up.
“So the point you’re trying to get across,”