Page 221 of Once in a Lifetime, Part 2

“Yeah.”

After they finished eating, Mano helped him out of his clothes and into the shower, then headed back to the living room. His phone rang again. This time, his brother’s name flashed across the screen. Mano’s gaze hardened. He grabbed the phone and answered. “What do you want?”

“Hi, Mano. How are you?”

“Give me one fucking reason why you keep interfering in my life,” he snapped, his voice rising. “You stole my work and sent it to your friend without my permission?”

“I know what I did was awful,” Nick said. “But if I’d asked… you would’ve said no.” He sighed. “Dominic’s looking for musicians. I just… I wanted him to hear you. To see how good you are.”

“And how would you know that?” Mano shot back. “You’ve never even heard any of my work.”

“That wasn’t my choice, Mano,” Nick said.

“Stop. Getting. Involved. In my life.”

“Do you hate me more than you love your dream?”

Mano went still.

Nick exhaled. “I know what your dream is. I know how much this matters to you. Dominic and Blue Island Records can make that happen. Don’t throw it away because of me.” His voice softened. “I’m not worth it.”

Mano blinked.

“It’s your chance,” Nick continued. “Just talk to him. Hear what he has to offer. If you don’t want it, you can walk away… He believes in your talent, Mano. He’s not doing this for me.”

Neither of them spoke.

“I’ll tell him to call you again.”

The line went dead.

Mano closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath. His phone rang again. The same British number. He answered this time. “Hello.”

“Hello, Mano. Good morning.”

Mano didn’t respond.

“I’ll keep this simple,” the man went on. “Our top composer just left, and we need someone immediately. I’ve heard about you. I know you play.”

Mano confirmed, short and clipped.

“What instruments?”

They went back and forth for a moment.

“Do you sing?”

“No.”

“That’s perfectly fine. We’re primarily interested in you as a composer. You’d be working alongside our producers and artists every day, writing and producing new material, collaborating in the studio, attending development sessions, and building connections within the industry. To get the most out of the program, we’d need you here in London.”

Mano stared ahead, his grip tightening around his phone.

“If you join us, I’ll offer you a contract. Four years, typically, but we can discuss that. You’ll have creative freedom. Write what you want. We’ll build from there.”

Mano ran a hand over his face. “I live in Greece. I study here. I can’t just move to London.”

“As far as I understand, you have one year left,” Dominic said. “You could transfer. Finish your studies here.”