Cupcakes and Christmas - R.J. Scott Page 0,38
would say. Something about how I was a fake person who did fake shit and should expect mistrust in return.
“What the fuck kind of man are you?” I said to the mirror, startling the shit out of myself, so I left the bathroom in a hurry before my reflection became even more chatty than my shower gel and decided to tell me exactly what kind of person I was.
Erin called me when I was dressed and ready to leave, and for a brief moment, I considered not answering the call, but she’d only keep calling. My time with Erin was coming to an end. I was a commodity selling products, and it was wearing me down and making me rich all at the same time. How did I balance that?
“Justin, KlecksoCream isn’t happy with their ROI. I need at least two more sound bites mentioning their name.”
She didn’t even bother with a hello, just jumped straight in there with the criticism that I wasn’t doing my job right. I cringed as she carried on, giving me numbers on comments, likes, and a new analysis on my Instagram profile, which had dramatically dipped to the sixteen to eighteen demographics, which wasn’t our target market at all.
“It’s not good, Justin.”
“Why would sixteen-year-olds want to follow me?”
“It’s the baking thing,” she dismissed what I loved doing with those casual words. “Everyone is doing it now, but sixteen-year-olds don’t have the expendable income to pay you in order for you to pay the team so that demographic is a no-go.”
And there we had it. The team. Six people relied on me, took salaries from my income, and they worked tirelessly to promote Brand Justin.
“What if we introduce a line of something that would reach sixteen-year-olds.”
She snorted a laugh. “Do you want to lose your biggest sponsors? Genryn Whiskey for a start? Or Totallin Vodka?”
“Maybe I should rethink my brand?” Shit. Had I really said that out loud? Why would I even tell Erin what had been spiraling around in my thoughts for the past few weeks?
Erin sighed. “Seriously, Justin, I’m cool with that. If you genuinely want to change your focus, then as soon as the competition is over, we’ll sit down and strategize.”
“Really?” Hope flared in my chest. Could I really do other things and still earn the kinds of money I was pulling in right now?
“If that’s what you want, then that is what we’ll provide. Although I can’t imagine my team is the right one for you should you want to refocus your market… ” She left the words dangling as if it was a warning. I was twenty-five, so why did I suddenly feel like a kid who’d been told that he couldn’t be a firefighter, or a teacher, or any one of a million things kids are told they can’t do.
“Okay.”
“But you’d be okay on your own, Justin. I’m sure.” Her voice took on that tone I’d grown to hate, the one that implied I didn’t know best at all. The one a mom might use as her son stood on a garage roof with cardboard wings saying he wanted to fly. At least, a mom might try to catch their child, but Erin wasn’t a mom. She only cared about the bottom line because that is what I paid her for.
What is wrong with my head tonight? I’m lost in analogy hell. I don’t have a mom. I was never going to be a firefighter or a teacher, and I certainly never tried to fly.
“… and we’re good at it, okay?”
I had no idea what she’d been saying, so I just replied with an “okay.”
“Now, in summary, I need more sex, would it hurt to take a shirt off?” she asked.
“It’s eight below here right now, and it’s snowing,” I countered.
“It’s not snowing in your room, Justin,” she explained patiently, with her familiar punctuation of using my name as a kind of warning. She kept me in line. I needed that, otherwise I wouldn’t be where I am today. “Think product placement, and for the love of all that’s holy, can you please send me something for KlecksoCream.”
“KlecksoCream would make great snow for my gingerbread house,” I offered in reconciliation.
“See? Send me your thoughts, take off your shirt, and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“I had good bakes today—”
“Sorry, I have a call on the other line.”
The phone went dead, no dial tone like in the movies, just absolute silence, and I stared at the screen for the longest time, mesmerized