Quantum Radio by A.G. Riddle

Author:A.G. Riddle [Riddle, A.G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781804549872
Publisher: Head of Zeus

56

By the time Maria returned, the pilot had once again slipped into unconsciousness.

Nora had to admit that she was a bit disappointed to see Maria empty-handed.

“No food?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Maria replied. “This place has been picked clean. And it’s weird in here.”

“Weird how?”

“Can’t quite place it. The language on the signs. It’s sort of antiquated. Like from some kind of black-and-white movie or something.”

Maria glanced down at the survival kit supplies, which were lined up in neat rows and columns.

“What happened here?”

“It’s sort of a habit.”

“Like chewing your nails.”

Nora smiled. “A lot like that.”

Maria rubbed her palms on her pants as though they were sweating, as if she was nervous all of a sudden.

“What is it?” Nora asked.

“I’ve got some habits myself.”

“What kind?”

“The bad kind.”

“I think we all do.”

“Not like this.”

“I’m a doctor. You can tell me about it.”

“I’ve been taking methadone to help me control cravings.”

“For opioids.”

“Yeah.” Maria swallowed, suddenly seeming embarrassed. “It happens before you know it. You’re on the road. Standing up for hours on high heels. The aches and pains. Advil and Tylenol stop working after a while. Plenty of doctors around—the agent and manager have them on speed dial. They write you something to get you though the show, and you think, ‘He’s a doctor. He knows what he’s doing.’”

“You don’t have to explain,” Nora said.

Maria kept going. “The pain in your body isn’t the worst, though. It’s the hurt in your mind. Things that happened before the music. And after.”

Maria swallowed. “You spend months—sometimes years—making a piece of art to share with the world. You put a piece of yourself in it. You have to. If you don’t—if you phone it in—people will know. They can sense authenticity. And when it’s not there. But that authenticity, that piece of you in the art, makes you care about it. It makes you vulnerable. And that’s the problem. No matter how many people like it—and especially if a lot of people like it—someone decides it’s not for them or that it’s overrated, and they attack you. They write articles that tear your work to shreds. But that’s not the real problem. They have a right to dislike the work. And to tell the world. It’s the personal attacks that get to you. The people who make the personal attacks have gotten smarter about it. They post them in groups now. Groups that make all their posts public so the world can see them. But you have to be a member to respond. They like that—using their reach to hurt you and their numbers to defend themselves. Haters find strength in numbers. Tearing you apart feeds their ego. It makes them feel big to cut someone successful down. And it doesn’t matter whether they’re right or wrong—you can’t say a thing. Because you’re the artist, and the haters think it’s their right to psychologically assault you. Publicly. It’s almost like they’re daring you to join the group and defend yourself. They delight when you do. Because they swarm.

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