CH 12 SO YOU DON'T WANT ME TO TAKE MY SHIRT OFF? (Jiro)
Jiro, was not the kind of guy to be easily discouraged.
It helped that he could at times be single-minded in his approach. If he set his mind to a thing, you may as well consider it “done.”
Hanako loved that about him. Usually.
He knew that she didn’t love it, when this tendency made him inflexible or immovable. He was at those times, “stubborn!” or “unreasonable” or “driving her crazy!”
But Jiro knew, it was usually just a matter of time, before he attained a thing.
Currently, Jiro was discouraged-adjacent.
The modeling agency he wanted to sign him seemed to be dragging their feet. This was a new experience, not being signed upon the first meeting. When he went in to see them at their offices, the agents had taken Polaroids as they always did, but they had not asked him to take off his shirt, which they always did. Didn’t they want to see what was underneath?
“What about other agencies?” Hanako asked, perpetually, pugnaciously, practical when it came to his career.
“Hanako, this agency is the best.”
Jiro had learned several years and dozens of modeling jobs ago, that the practice of being a good model, could at times distract him from being the musician and singer he desired to be.
If he wanted to work consistently in the industry, there was a measurable formula for success: Get enough sleep, work out, watch what he ate, be available to travel.
In the past, this was a formula he could rely on. Even if making the music had taken him nowhere that day, lifting that weight and saying ‘no’ to that slice of strawberry cheesecake, did.
But this formula seemed to be losing its potency at a time when he was relying on it the most.You said I would find success, he pointed out to the universe. You told me this agency would sign me. You told me to be brave and come here without introduction or appointment. You said I would succeed.
It was for the music, that Jiro did it all. The hours of writing dozens of songs no one would ever hear, for every one or two, that they would.
It was for the music that he expelled the obnoxious vocal warmups that Hanako teased raised the hairs on the top of her head.
And it was for the music that he and Hanako had moved to a foreign land to find the audience who might connect with his melodies and his stories.
But the means seemed uncertain now and music…music, was a mysterious beast that demanded more-and-more of him, while at times giving him, less-and-less.
He could count the number of songs he had written each month, know he would reach the notes because of the daily “yahhhhhhhh” and “meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, MEOWs,” but those things did not guarantee larger audiences and record label contracts.
At least, not yet.
But Jiro knows, as with most things, it is simply a matter of time. It might be unreasonable and inflexible of him, but he is also determined. The universe is for him so who could be against him?