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The stage was lit with different arrays of colors, the house lights were down, the anticipation was growing, the band was all ready spitting out the first chords of the opening number. The performer jumped on stage ready for the show, but what happened stunned him beyond belief. Looking out over the crowd, what little bit there was he didn't see the usual sea of people screaming his name, holding signs professing their love and adoration for him, all he saw was a small collection of people standing in a heap talking amongst themselves. The small crowd looked his was, and had a disgusting expression on their faces. He knew what this meant when he recognized a few of their faces. Dread and realization all hit at once. Two men, from the crowd, inched their way towards him. He looked around for an escape, but there was none, and even if there were, if was ridiculous to delay the inevitable.

"Mr. Carter, I'm Aaron Rutledge and this is William Donahue, I'm sure you've heard of us. We're in charge of your realtions department." The two men outstretch their arms for a cordial shake. "Yes sir, I know who you are." Nick swallowed the lump forming in his throat, the world he knew would slowly be coming to a quick end within the next minute, and he wasn't prepared, but who could be. "Mr. Carter, I hate to inform you but your contract with us at Jive recently expired and when it went into deliberation as to whether or not we should keep you on our list of clients we weighed out all the pros and cons. We know in the past you have had a lot of success, but that was with the group, now that you're on your own we feel you aren't making the progress we wish for you to. We've done everything in our power, relations wise, to boost up your "popularity", but all tries have failed." Mr. Rutledge said.

"So what are you saying?" He knew all ready, he just had to hear it, just to make the reality of it all seem real.

"Basically Mr. Carter, we've decided not to keep you on our list of clients at Jive Records, I'm sorry, but as of now your contract is suspended and we will not support this tour or any of your endevours from this moment on." Mr. Donahue stated, finally being blunt and letting the actual reason as to why the two men were there be out in the open without tiptoeing around the subject as his partner was doing.

"So what you're saying is that I no longer can perform?" He didn't yell, he didn't shout, he just whispered, all reality crushing to the ground around him.

"Yes, that's exactly what we're saying. We tried to get you a contract with a smaller Record Company, but no one would take you either." Mr. Donahue said.

"We're terribly sorry, and we've grown to respect you over all these years, its just that we were putting a lot of money out there for you and we're getting any in return." Mr Ruledge tried to explain.

"I understand." Nick Whispered. He turned his back from the two men and quietly walked away from the previous occourence.

He was out of a job. He could no longer perform, well not the same anyway. It was all over. The years, the blood, the tears, the heartaches, and the thrills were all over. He never thought they would end, but they just did, in a span of two mintues. Those people knew nothing about the struggle he encompassed getting to where he had been, nor did they know what he had to give up either. Now he had only one option, to go home.