It was eleven o'clock at night. I had just lain down in bed when my manager called me over voice chat.
He spoke in a cold tone, "Why isn't your phone reachable? Don't you know talent must be available twenty-four hours a day? Do you want to have what little salary you earn taken away in fines?"
"Whatever," I said calmly.
"You…"
There was a deep breath from the other end, as if he deliberately let me hear him trying to hold back his anger.
"Let's set that aside for now. What nonsense did you say during your live interview today? What is your standing compared to Chantal Marlowe? How dare you compare yourself to her!"
My criticism came sharp and unrelenting.
"And saying you would go home and take over a multi-million-dollar business? It sounds like you've got delusions of having to
