“Hi.” I smile in acknowledgement, knowing my words would come out something like “psh, fablaba”.

We order our ice cream and sit down at a little table. I begin explaining what’s going on at work and she nods along sympathetically. I normally wouldn’t unload like this to a stranger, but something about her makes it easy. I go on for nearly an hour, long finished with my ice cream, before she speaks again.

“I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have taken you to that group. They’re the worst when it comes to keeping things on the down-low.” I nod my head but smile, hoping that she knows I’m not upset with her. “As for your manager, he sounds like a total ass. Why don’t you fire him?”

“Because he’s always been right. He’s always done his job and made sure I was a success.”

“Ash, how do you measure your success? I mean you’ve had a ton of money since you were a kid so I don’t know if that should count. You’re not singing songs you even like which sucks. You have a ton of fans who love you because they think you’re something that you aren’t… I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but in my opinion if you were really successful, you’d probably be happier.”

“So what are you saying I should do? Fire my manager and PR? Lose my sponsors? Sing songs that are totally different than what’s expected of me?” I’m a little on the defensive, but come on this is crazy talk.

Spencer sits quiet for a moment, mulling over what I just said. “That’s exactly what you should do.” My mouth drops. She’s not kidding. “Look, you’ve got the money to do it, right?” I nod. “You technically own the majority of your label, don’t you?” I nod. “So you would basically be in breach of a contract with yourself?” I stare. “Ash, you’ve definitely got the talent. And if you’re fans really like you they’ll be open to some new material.” The way she said it made it seem so easy, but there is so much more to it than that. There’s… um… I don’t know! Other stuff is involved! She apparently senses my inner turmoil because she sits back in her seat and says calmly “I’m just saying it’s an option. No pressure.”

A moment later my phone rings. I wait until the third ring before flipping it open.

“Ashley! Great news!” It’s Kevin. “Projected sales are up six percent so we’re sticking with it. Congratulations! You have an eating disorder!” I sit open mouthed and stare at Spencer. She raises an eyebrow and I know exactly what she’s thinking:

Told ya so…