My Butterfly

Sovine,” a man said, extending his hand.
    I glanced at the man’s outstretched arm and followed it up to his face.
    “Will Stephens,” I said, eventually meeting his handshake.
    “You’ve got a great voice,” the man said.
    I smiled an awkward smile and went back to wrapping the cord around my arm.
    “Thanks,” I said.
    “I’ve seen these guys play a couple of times, but I’ve never seen you before,” he said.
    “Yeah, it’s kind of a side thing,” I said.
    “So, you’re a firefighter?” he asked.
    I glanced back up at him, and then my gaze fell onto the cord again.
    “Yes, sir,” I said.
    “Well, have you ever thought about a career in music?” he asked.
    I stopped and looked at him sideways.
    “A career in music? Us?” I asked.
    He nodded his head and smiled.
    “Your band. Yourself,” the man said.
    I raised one eyebrow.
    “Did a little blonde put you up to this?” I asked.
    The man’s smile faded, and his face twisted into a puzzled look.
    “I’m kidding,” I said, chuckling. “No, really, it’s just a side thing.”
    He seemed to pause before he continued.
    “Okay,” he said. “Well, talk to your band. I’d love a chance to represent you guys.”
    “Represent?” I repeated.
    “Yeah,” he said, pulling out a clean, white business card from the inside pocket of his tailored jacket.
    “If you change your mind, my number’s on the card,” he said, handing it to me.
    I took the card.
    “It’s nice to meet you, Will Stephens,” he said, extending his hand to me again. “I hope you change your mind.”
    I shook his hand again, and then I watched him disappear back into the crowd.
    It was dark all around me, except for the neon light that flashed in my direction every once in a while. My eyes strained to see the bold lettering on the small business card as they searched each word:
    Jesse Sovine, Talent Agent
    Premiere Entertainment Management
    I stared at the card for a second, then stuffed it into my pocket and continued again wrapping the electric cord around my arm.
    “A career in music,” I mumbled under my breath, while chuckling to myself.
    ...
    I made my way into Matt’s garage Monday evening. The guys were already there.
    “Water, Will?” I heard Matt ask.
    I turned toward him and held out my hands.
    He tossed the bottle across the room. I caught it, opened it up and took a swig. Then, I set it onto the concrete floor and started to play with the strings on my guitar.
    “Oh, guys, by the way, this guy gave me this the other night,” I said, pulling the business card from my jeans pocket and tossing it onto Matt’s keys.
    “What is it?” Chris asked, snatching up the card.
    His eyes scanned the words and then turned up.
    “This is an agent,” he eventually said.
    His words were straight and to the point.
    “What?” Matt asked, looking up.
    “Where did you get this?” Chris asked me.
    “The guy,” I said, pointing to the card. “His name is on it.”
    “Dude, this is Premiere Entertainment,” he exclaimed. “They’re a big deal.”
    “What did you tell him?” Matt asked me.
    “I didn’t tell him anything, really,” I said. “I just took the card.”
    “Guys, do you realize what this could mean?” Chris asked. “We could be famous.”
    “Let me see it,” Daniel said, yanking the card out of Chris’s hand.
    Daniel’s eyes followed over the words on the card.
    “We’ve got to call him,” Chris said, “and tell him we’re interested.”
    “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Daniel said. “We’ve got to think about this first. I’ve got a kid and a family. I can’t just run off with the band.”
    “Yeah, Chris, I agree,” Matt said. “A lot of people have agents, but that doesn’t mean they get anywhere. This isn’t a ticket to fame and fortune, and we can’t act like it is.”
    “But we can just see what he says,” Chris said.
    “I don’t know,” Daniel said. “I mean, playing on the weekends is fun, but…”
    He shook his head.
    “I need a real job,” he continued. “One that pays the bills.”
    “Who said anything about quitting our jobs?” Chris asked. “We can just see where it leads.”
    “I don’t know,” Daniel said, still shaking his head.
    “What about you, Will?” Chris asked. “He talked to you. What do you think?”
    Suddenly, all eyes in the garage were on me.
    I shook my head and laughed.
    “I’m a firefighter,” I said. “I don’t know anything about the music business, and I’m not sure,