I spend on auditions,” I added, my voice full of warning that spelled out, Don’t try to develop a relationship with me, not now.
“I think it’s great that you’re so determined,” he said. “People who discourage easily aren’t meant for careers like the one you’re pursuing.”
Even though I was fighting off admiring anything about him, I liked how softly he spoke, especially in the midst of all the noise and activity around us. He had a comforting calmness. There was a special energy in New York that seemed to come right out of the ground beneath your feet and then swirl around you.
Tourists, many who were obviously here for the first time, were like children brought to their first fun fair or circus. I had felt excitement when I was on our school trip to the West End in London, but it didn’t seem to be as explosive as this. People here were shouting to each other even though they were inches away from each other. They walked very quickly, so quickly it seemed the sidewalk was flowing. When I gazed around, it looked like a mass of humanity weaving in and out, and across each other, eyes captured by the bright marquees announcing shows, while giant billboards flashed faces and products. Grand lights washed out the possibility of seeing the stars. An underlying fear streamed beneath my own excitement: it was easy to drown here, to disappear faster than you ever imagined.
“My music teacher used to say people who were successful in entertainment of any kind, including writers and poets, had to have at minimum sixty percent perseverance and forty percent talent,” I said. “There are lots of people with talent they just don’t develop. For them, the talent is more of a burden.”
“Why a burden?”
“It haunts, wants to know why you left it stranded.”
He laughed. “You’re quite remarkable for someone your age. I sensed that almost immediately.”
I shrugged. Compliments like that were dangerous, I thought. They’d get me off my purpose. I wouldn’t dare fall in love. I wouldn’t even fall in like that much. There were already too many distractions, too many things tempting you to lose your concentration. Surely, he would sense the reluctance in me soon.
“How does your family feel about your doing this?”
“Not good. My father was so furious about it that he told me if I left, I’d be disowned. He even said he’d burn any letters I sent home.”
“Really? That’s severe.”
“Sometimes, we’re like oil and water,” I said, recalling how Mummy put it. “He thinks I’m messing up my life. I’ll succeed just to show him he’s wrong. I dread ever giving him the satisfaction he was right.”
“Don’t worry. You won’t fail, not with that level of determination. Here’s the custard,” he said, gently turning me to a kiosk. “What flavor?”
“Vanilla, thank you,” I said.
He bought us both cones, and we sat on a nearby bench.
“It’s fun just sitting and watching people. Trying to guess where they’re from or where they’re going.”
“How long have you been here?” I had tried to fight back asking him questions about himself. It was dangerous, like putting yourself in the path of deeper feelings. Along with that would come guilt for ignoring him or pushing him out of my mind so that I could concentrate on my career. It would be painful to hurt someone as nice as he was, I thought. I didn’t want to be put in the position of having to do it. Without my being too cold, perhaps he would get the idea after tonight.
“A couple of years into my job, but I’ve been to New York many times. Each time I returned, it was like I had first arrived. It has that way of putting on a fresh face. You’ll see,” he said. “It surprises.”
The silence that shortly followed made me uncomfortable, and I rushed to fill it.
“I’d better get back. I need a good night’s sleep. I’m going to do ten hours tomorrow at the restaurant. Marge might give me a table or two before Monday, too.”
“Marge?” he asked as we stood.
“She’s the one training me. She’s very nice.”
“So what’s with this roommate you got so quickly?” he asked as we started back.
“She’s trying to be a dancer, but I don’t think she’s half as serious about it as I am about singing.”
“I know you won’t let her mess things up for you, but sometimes people get you to do things you don’t want to do.”
“Not me,” I said.
He smiled