Chapter Seventeen

 

Lenny

 

 

Jeremy Epps stood tall at the head of the conference table surrounded by his team. His dark suit tailored to fit his frame. He emanated an air of superiority amongst the men and women around him dressed casually.

“Mr. Demark, I understand what you're asking. But we need you to realize that you’re in no position to make demands.”

I heard the words coming out of his mouth, but I needed him to hear mine. “I understand and respect your opinion, but I also need you to understand. These are my terms. I will not waiver. I am in the position to make demands. I already have a brand, a well-known one, in fact. I have one of the largest followings in my genre. My fan base is ironclad.” I sat back in my seat, my hands folded casually in my lap. I had nothing to prove to these people.

“Mr. Demark, it wasn’t my opinion. It’s a stone cold fact. If we sign you, you will have to relocate. You will have to play by our rules. I honestly don’t care how big your fan base is. Rules are rules.” Mr. Epps continued.

“I’m a sure thing when it comes to bringing home the gold, you know it. I know it. Location doesn’t change that. Location doesn’t change the fact that I sell out stadiums.”

“You’re trip to rehab could have changed that. All of the rumors about your drug use have tarnished your reputation.”  A short balding man added, as though his opinion would sway me.

“I have documented accounts for every day I was rumored to have been in rehab. I have never or would ever touch any type of drug. There are absolutely zero links to me in association with any form of drug use, nor will you find any witnessed medically or otherwise.

All you have to go on are reports put out by a scorned ex who happens to be related to the head of the label I was signed to.”

“Be that as it may. Rules are rules. We budge for no one.” Jeremy stated matter-of-fact giving me a firm look.

“It appears we agree to disagree. Thank you, gentlemen, for your time; I do believe this meeting is over.” I intoned. Standing, I tipped my head in farewell and walked out the door without looking back.

Per our email conversation, I had explained my situation. I made it perfectly clear what I required if signed to their label. The label had accepted. They seemed eager to sign. That’s why the meeting was called, to finalize paperwork. However, in typical label fashion, it appeared they were expecting to take advantage of an artist desperate for a contract.

That wasn’t me. Once upon a time, I could have been convinced. The label wasn’t asking much. They were willing to give into a majority of my demands, but I didn't need the majority. I needed all or nothing.

Riding the elevator down I shook out the annoyance that had been tingling at my spine. They had brought up Angela and her ill attempt to drudge my name through the mud. The moment her name passed through their lips I knew it was going to be a rough ride.

The label was good, solid even. I liked to believe I would have enjoyed working with them. But I wouldn't budge. I wouldn’t give in to anyone, for any amount of money. Losing Makayla wasn’t worth it. Losing my daughter wasn’t worth it.

We had enough money. Hell, we had plenty. Making music wasn't about the money for me. It was about doing something that made me happy. I loved to sing. I loved to perform on stage in front of thousands of people.

It was a rush. The lights, the vibrations of the bass as it echoed through the room. The vibrations resonating through your bones. The sound of my name resounding through the crowd. When I closed my eyes I could still hear it.

But none of it was enough to sacrifice my family.

There was no offer great enough to make me turn my back on those I loved. I would not give up another moment of Avery’s life.

Had I known this was how the meeting would have gone I would have never brought it up to Makayla. The entire fight the night before could have been avoided. I would have been at home, our limbs tangled beneath the sheets.

Hindsight is 20/20.

No sooner had I pulled out of Dark Edge’s parking garage my phone started ringing. Hitting the button on the wheel the Bluetooth kicked in, sending the call through the car’s speakers.

“Lenz, it’s Jeremy,” I smirked shaking my head.

“Jeremy, what can I do for you?” I replied cockily.

“Look, I know we talked about it but are you really sure you can’t give in on this? I mean, we're giving you everything else you asked for.” Already I could hear the desperation in Jeremy’s voice.

“Jer, do you have kids? A wife?”

“Two sons and a wife.” I could hear the confusion in his voice.

“What if I told you that the only way you could keep your job was to move to LA. Just you, no kids. No wife?”

I could hear him sigh into the phone.

“Lenz, you know we didn’t ask that. I told you. Kids and family, we're good with. We won’t ask you to hide them away. Hell, bring your daughter to the studio while you record, for all we care.  We just need you here.” His tone was exasperated, much like my own.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. My family lives in GR. They’re not moving. I won't ask them to. I won't ask them to give up their life for me. They already gave up four years. I won't ask them to sacrifice anymore for me. Never again. It’s just over a two-hour commute. I’ve spent a longer time in traffic to pick up dry cleaning in LA.”

A long silence came from Jeremy’s end of the line. I listened patiently as I merged onto the interstate, eager to head back home.

“Lenz, I can’t bend the rules.” This man should win a prize for his unrelenting task at beating a dead horse to death.

“I understand and respect your position.”

“Look, I may be able to help you. I can already tell you’re a good guy, great even. Hell, I would have loved to have signed you no matter where you lived. But rules are rules. Let me make a couple calls and get back to you.”

“I understand. Thanks, Jer.”

Ending the call I turned up the music and let the sounds of Apocalyptica, the powerful haunting sounds of the cellos fill the car.

I was nearly home when my phone rang again. Jeremy had pulled a few favors and had set up an interview with a small label located in Grand Rapids. The studio was only twenty minutes from the house, an easy commute. The only catch, I have thirty minutes to get there.

Glancing at the clock I pressed down on the accelerator. I could make it. It would be pushing it, but it was doable.

There was a chance I would break my promise to Avery. Makayla kept our daughter on a struck schedule. Breaking the rules once and keeping her up late was a one-time thing. I wouldn't go around Makayla and uproot our daughter's life to fit my schedule. I had a moment of hesitation, letting off the gas as I contemplated my choices.

Do I keep my promise to Avery or do I follow my dreams?