Chapter 30
Bailey
Leah and I got dressed at her place in preparation for the meeting we were having with the music producers.
Leah was being difficult with me. I ended up having to dress and put makeup on by myself since my supposed best friend was busy doubting me the entire time. I was wearing tight jeans, a loose blouse, my hair was up, and I was ready to go.
“Is there really no way that I can talk you out of this decision?” she asked me.
“I don’t think so! I think we’re getting signed to a record label, baby!”
“How about you at least put the decision on hold before you make a decision that could totally and irrevocably change your life in ways that could haunt you forever.”
“What?”
“I don’t know, Bailey! Record labels can really fuck people over. You know this.”
“You can try to sway me from my path, but it isn’t gonna work,” I said with sass.
“You’re making a very big and important decision while being very upset,” she said. “I’d rather risk them never calling us again. I’ll tell them to wait another few days. We can make something up. Or shit, I can just say you’re bummed thinking about your dad! What do you think?”
“I don’t want to use my dad to get out of a business meeting.”
“That’s commendable,” said Leah. “I’m not sure I’d have the same restraint if it were my dad that died.”
“I’m not waiting for things to happen anymore,” I told her. “I’m making them happen. A major recording label is willing to sign me. I have no idea when something else like that will come along again. Do I have to wait another six years?”
Leah put her arms on my shoulders, giving me a look of empathy like I’d never seen before.
“I swear on my mother’s life—and I love my mom—you are not going to have to wait another six years for an opportunity like this to come again. I promise you won’t even have to wait a single, whole year. There are a lot of interested eyes peering in your direction, wondering what steps you’re going to take next.”
A single tear dropped down my face. Leah wiped it up lovingly with her thumb.
“Don’t make a decision like this just to prove a point. Don’t try to somehow get back at him, or something. Really, don’t sign a musical contract for any other reason other than it’s going to help your music.”
I took Leah’s hands and held them in mine. I was sniffing, trying to hold back the building tears.
“I am upset, and I am freaking out about all of this still,” I admitted. “But, I think this is the right thing to do. I have to do what’s best for me, right? I think this is what’s best for me. I think. I hope. I might not ever get another song on the radio again.”
“Don’t make your decision based on what you’re afraid of,” said Leah. “Listen to your instincts. Don’t walk through those doors until you know for sure what you’re going to do.”
“I’m not going to know what I’m doing until after.”
“No, no you’re not,” she interrupted. “If they sense any sort of vulnerability, they’ll pounce on it and use it against you. Being confident is imortant. And, if you can’t be confident, appear confident.”
“Thanks for the pep talk, coach,” I told her.
Leah drove us to an office space being rented out by various music groups. The producers we were going to meet were on the second floor, and I knew that I was only going to get two of their names right.
Not only did I not know names, but I also didn’t know the reason. I couldn’t make up my mind on what to do. I thought I would’ve known by the time we got to the meeting, but I was still torn on the decision. I had hoped that some more of Leah’s patented pep talks would steer me in the right direction, and she gave me plenty on the ride over.
We had arrived in time, but the secretary told us we would have to wait until the producers finished with another meeting. As we found seats for ourselves in the lobby, we could hear loud bursts of random laughter and speech.
“How long do you think that meeting is going to take?” whispered Leah.
“Hopefully long enough for me to figure out what I’m going to do,” I replied.
“I bet this is some sort of intimidation tactic,” said Leah. “We made them wait, so now they’re making us wait. And, they’re going to laugh and holler and yell until it makes us go crazy.”
“I’m the only one that’s supposed to go crazy,” I said. “You have to be sane for both of us.”
A young girl, somewhere around sixteen or seventeen, came rushing down the stairs toward Leah and me. It looked as though she was going to call for us. But instead, she came to a halt, stared at me, and nervously went over to whisper to the receptionist.
The young girl headed for the front door, still looking over at me, keeping my attention.
“I love your new song,” said the young girl.
Instantly, my demeanor changed. I leaped up from my chair and approached her.
“Thank you so much!” I said to the girl. “I’m so glad you like the song.”
“I have your EP from last year,” she said nervously.
“Do you really?”
“Yeah, it was a really good album,” she added.
“Thank you so much,” I said, sounding like a broken record. “I can’t believe you know me.”
“I’m waiting for you to put out a full release,” she said with a smile. Her little top teeth had braces on them, making her even more adorable than I originally thought.
“I’ll be putting out a major album soon, don’t you worry about that,” I promised. “Spring of next year. Look for it.”
“I will!” the girl voice scaled to a high pitch. “It’s—it was so awesome getting to meet you!”
“You too!” I said. “You want a picture? Not to sound conceited or—”
The little girl beamed, whipping out her cell phone in a hurry. “Yes, please!”
I handed the girl’s cell phone over to Leah, who took several pictures of the two of us posing together.
“What other kind of music do you like?” I asked the young girl.
“All kinds!” she answered. “That’s a big reason why I love your EP. No two songs sound alike.”
“I’m so glad to hear you say that!” I said with pride. “I tried to make every song have its own ‘flavor,’ you know? I want people that like all sorts of genres to find something they enjoy.”
“I like it all,” the girl said.
“That’s what I really want to happen!” I laughed. “What’s your name?”
“Beth,” she answered.
“Beth, are you going into music or music management?” I asked.
“I’m not sure what I’m doing,” said Beth. “I can play some instruments, but I don’t like my voice at all.”
“I don’t really like my voice that much,” I told her.
Her eyes widened in shock. “Your voice is incredible!”
“Thank you, and I’m so glad to hear you say that, but I respectfully disagree,” I said. “I think my voice is kind of nasally sometimes. I don’t always hit the right notes when I perform live. I’ll bet you’re a better singer than I am.”
“I know for a fact that I’m not,” said Beth.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I told her. “Be kind to yourself. And, don’t stop trying to achieve your goals.”
“I have an anxiety disorder,” Beth muttered quietly to me. “Uh, do you have any advice on how to beat that?”
We all heard doors opening above our heads, signaling the end of the meeting prior to ours.
I looked back at Beth. “Don’t be afraid. Really. Once you’ve been through enough, you see that things aren’t as hard as they seem. Don’t be scared, and don’t stress about little things that don’t matter.”
I felt like the world’s worst camp instructor, and there was no way for me to salvage it. I held out my fist, let Beth bump it, and we went our separate ways.
While we were finding our seats and being greeted by the producers, executives, and other related personnel; my mind was once again in a place far away from where my body was.
I thought about what I’d just told Beth: Don’t be afraid. It was certainly easier said than done.
I looked around the room, smiling and acknowledging people as the meeting dictated. Leah spoke for me, sitting right beside me as we faced down the bosses.
While a producer named Elliott Langley talked and told us all things we knew already, my mind drifted from my encounter with Beth to my encounter with Darren.
I wanted to rewind and change everything that had happened starting that Saturday morning, beginning with when I decided to leave him that day. I would have talked with him more and demanded that we resolve our conflict.
Instead, I had an unresolved dilemma involving matters of the heart, and it was hijacking my attention away from the very important meeting taking place around me.
Before I knew it, Elliott Langley slid a small stack of crisp white papers over to me, while a different executive slid his pen to me to go with the papers.
It was there. I had the contract in front of me. It was offering me the kind of future I’d only dreamed of. All it required was my signature and my initials in a few places. It was simple, yet binding. It was real and tangible, yet it felt like I was still in the middle of a dream I hadn’t woken up from.
I couldn’t make up my mind. I clicked the pen nervously against the table, reading over certain parts of the contract. I looked over at the producers and executives, seeing all their smiling faces with overly white teeth.
I put the pen on the dotted line, waiting to feel destiny pulling on my hand.
Leah leaned into me. “You can decide not to do it,” she whispered.
I didn’t know what to do. I was lost.