The Streets- Chapter 4: Opportunities Arising

A crowd was beginning to gather around me as I played, beside an open collection tin and dozens of business men and women rushing along to wherever they need to be so badly. I am pouring my heart into the melodies, singing along with my playing. Gradually, I began to hear the distinct 'clink' as some loose change was dropped into the tin and occasionally I began to give my words of thanks to the generous donators. Amongst the small crowd watching me, one man stuck out amidst them. He seemed to watch me intently, taking notice not only of the guitar playing, but my singing, which had seemed to improve bit-by-bit over all these years. He was wearing a red checkered shirt and had a pair of casual denim jeans. He didn't look like a rich man, like a lot of the other citizens of London- he seemed like a middle-class man, yet behind his intently-watching eyes, a vast expanse of knowledge could be foreseen. His unshaven face featured an impressive short boxed beard and a mop of jet black hair, that hug loosely over his forehead. After finishing the song, I gave my heartfelt gratitude to the crowd and the man began to walk over to me.
'That was some great music!' I heard him say, much to my delight.'Hello, by the way! Let me introduce myself! My name is James Carran.'
As he reached out a hand to me, I shook it. 'I'm Charlie,' I began, slightly taken aback by how forward this man, James, was. 'Charlie White.'
'Well Charlie, we have some things to discuss. We can talk over a drink.' He pointed to a coffee shop just across the road from my busking spot.
'Of course!' I decided, although still slightly unsure of the topics they would 'discuss'. 'I'll just go grab my guitar'.
Together, we both walked across the busy road, whilst he chatted about my recent performance  and offered me kind-hearted compliments about not just my guitar playing, but my singing as well. Charlie seemed like a good man, and silently I judged that whatever we would be discussing would be worth while. The coffee door opened, and we both sat down at a table, hastily buying two drinks of coffee for this winter morning.
' I'll pay!' He said beaming.
I couldn't refuse such a definitive offer. It almost seemed like an order. 'Charlie,' he began, introducing our discussion. 'I am a music producer at a London records company, and your music really took me away.' I just stared, not believing these long-awaited words. 'I would like to propose a deal to you Charlie. I would greatly wish for you to come in with me to our studio and record some tracks? Only if you want to of course!' He stated winking.
This seemed like a blessing from heaven. Suddenly, all my bad luck from the past seemed to change around, and a new wave of opportunities seemed to open up.
'O-of course! I- I would l-love to record with you!'. He seemed to sense my be wilderness and chuckled heartily.
'Listen. If this works out well and other people are as amazed as I am at your talent, the possibilities may be endless. You may even get off the streets!'. I was lost in thought. I could sense myself grinning with pleasure. I could only manage to say two simple words amidst my flabbergasted wonder.
'Lets go!'