Five Flavors of Dumb - Antony John [80]
Finn nodded decisively, then turned to me. Did you get that?
Yes.
This guy is an utter prick.
Yes.
I want to say something obscene.
Behave!
Finn was in the process of assuring Mike that Dumb was still together when Mike brandished a contract and shoved it toward me. “Tell her to sign here and here.”
I glanced at the contract—a single page with details of the location and time of the performance, and a stipulation that all five members of the band attend. The last line had been added by hand, but I couldn’t exactly blame him in light of recent events. The contract specified $100 per band member, for a total of $500.
Finn cocked an eyebrow. Wow. That was easy. I’m good at this.
I smiled. Yes, but we’re not done yet.
What do you mean?
Things are about to get interesting. Are you ready to play some poker?
Finn narrowed his eyes, the hint of a smile teasing his mouth. What do you have in mind?
I think we have a full house. Three boys, two girls, and I’m playing with house money. I felt my heart racing, the memory of all those poker games I played with my dad suddenly fresh in my mind again. Take a look at hotshot over there and tell me what he’s got.
In less than a second, Finn glanced across the table and made his decision. I could tell he was looking for more chips. He’s flustered. Could be because he’s annoyed about being here, but I think he’s actually nervous. He blinks every time you sign, by the way . . . a real giveaway.
I wanted to hug Finn, but we needed to stay cool. Good. Now keep signing to me.
Sign what?
Anything. Doesn’t matter. Just keep going until he interrupts.
How can you be sure he’s going to—
“What’s going on here?” shouted Mike, presumably for my benefit. “Are you going to sign the contract or not?”
Is he angry, anxious, or both? I asked.
Finn rubbed his chin. Definitely both. He wants you to fold real bad.
Then he’s going to be disappointed.
“Hello!” Mike pawed at my arm—so obnoxious. I just kept ignoring him.
Okay, this is how I see it, I signed. Rude dude isn’t here just to see if we’re interested. The gig is three days away, and I think he’s desperate. He definitely didn’t drive all this way to get turned down.
Sounds reasonable, agreed Finn.
And that’s why you’re going to ask for $500 per person, for a total of $3,000.
Finn’s jaw slackened. You’ve got to be kidding.
Yes and no. I want you to ask for it, but he’s going to refuse. The important thing is what he counters with.
While Finn took a moment to compose himself, I pulled my laptop from my bag and refreshed our YouTube page, which was already onscreen. Thankfully the school’s wireless network reached outdoors. I glanced up in time to see Baz choke and Mike turn an inhuman shade of purple. He slammed his fist against the table and stood up.
Before he could leave, I turned the computer screen around and pointed to the view count. It was up to 223,747. I cocked an eyebrow expectantly, and tried to suppress a smile as Mike plopped back down. He turned to Finn.
“Two hundred dollars each. A thousand dollars total.”
“What about Piper?” exclaimed Finn, forgetting to pass along the latest bid. “What about her share?”
“She can take it out of the thousand bucks for all I care.”
$300 each, $1800 total, I signed.
Finn relayed the latest bid, and I noticed that he didn’t seem anxious anymore.
As soon as Mike began to shake his head, I closed the computer and stood up in one swift movement. Sure enough, Mike reached across and grabbed my arm, holding me in place.
“Fine,” he said. “Bloody fine.”
Mike pulled out another contract and began filling in the revised figures. Two minutes later I signed it.
“Saturday. Get there at four p.m. and you might have half an hour to do a sound check. Then again, maybe not. We’ll see,” he sneered, desperate to reassert his power.
Baz waited for Mike to leave, then stared me down. “What was all that about?”
“Just doing my job, Baz. I thought you