Chapter 2
Bailey
Even though I’d been putting out music for several years, and some of my songs had gained a certain level of popularity, I would never grow tired of hearing my songs being played over the radio.
I was driving through downtown Memphis on a beautiful Saturday afternoon as I heard “Where Are You Now” playing through my car speakers. I didn’t enjoy hearing my song for some perverted ego gratification. I loved knowing how far I’d come. It was still surreal to hear my voice coming over the same airwaves as many of my favorite artists.
I was on my way to Gracie’s, a nice little diner that was open all day and night. I was meeting up with Leah Samson, my manager and also my best friend. I realize that most people think you shouldn’t work with your friends, but my philosophy when picking out a manager was to find someone who I could trust. Leah had been one of my closest friends since college, and we trusted each other completely. Luckily for me, she was going to school to make a career in entertainment management. While she’d been looking for “the big client,” she started helping me in her spare time. Now, years later, I turned into her big client.
Leah already had a booth for us at Gracie’s when I arrived. She was smiling wide and looked like she was ready to burst.
“I thought you were never going to show up!” said Leah.
We gave each other a quick hug and plopped down in our booth.
“I was playing around with a new song I’m trying to perfect,” I told her. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Please, if you were working, then don’t apologize,” she said. “Help me help you.”
“Why do you look so happy today?” I asked.
She smiled. “Why wouldn’t I be happy? Why aren’t you happy? You’re the one that’s climbing the charts!”
“As if!” I said. “ ‘Where Are You Now’ was just released. We haven’t had time to get plays or views let alone climb the charts.”
She slid her phone over to me. I took it and looked. Sure enough, even though I didn’t believe what I was seeing, my song and I were on the Billboard Top 100.
“Get the hell out of here,” I said in disbelief.
“You debuted at number 72.”
“This is so surreal.” I hadn’t blinked since I saw the chart.
“Your last single reached 91,” she reminded me. “And, that took weeks. We just put out ‘Where Are You Now,’ and you’re up higher than Luke Bryan, Rihanna and Maroon 5. I’m telling you, this is going to be the hit that makes you.”
I could feel my cheeks flushing. “You really think so? Maybe it’s a fluke. I’ll probably drop down into the 80s by next week.”
“I’m the one that’s supposed to be pessimistic, not you,” said Leah.
Our waitress came over to take our order. Neither of us had to look at the menu to know what we wanted.
“I’ll have a Cobb salad with a side of avocado,” I requested. “I would like the special herbal tea with it. Thank you.”
“Turkey and cheese panini,” Leah said. “I’ll also have a small bowl of tomato soup. And, I’m good with water, thanks.”
As our waitress went to take care of our order, I found myself staring at my song appearing on a chart alongside some of the most popular artists and songs.
“Isn’t it amazing?” said Leah as she watched my continued bewilderment.
I laughed. “I still don’t believe it. Wow.”
“It’s only going to get better from here,” she said. “Have you decided which track to release next?”
“I just put out a single. Where’s the fire?”
“You’re the fire, Bailey,” she said. “You’re hot right now! We need to keep the fire going so that you’ll go full mainstream.”
“Landing this high on the charts is definitely helping with the mainstream goals,” I said. “I’m not sure which song I should put out next. I’m leaning toward either ‘Beast Coast’ or ‘Candlelight.’”
“I vote ‘Candlelight,’ ” said Leah. “Also, we should really get your tour dates lined up.”
“Leah.”
“Hear me out. For starters, I’ve read lots of fan mail and comments online saying how you should tour. Not only that, but most people assume you’re touring anyway.”
“Leah,” I said. “We’ve been over this a dozen times.”
“And, it’ll be a dozen more until you pick some dates and commit,” she said. “You need to give the people what they want. It’ll boost you up even higher.”
“I don’t want to tour just yet,” I said. “My fanbase is mostly here, anyway.”
“You’re too humble,” she said. “You have fans all up the east coast. You could sell out places in Florida, Georgia, North Carolina, and Virginia.”
“I think it’s a little premature,” I said. “We’ll go over tour dates another time. In fact, I promise we’ll talk about it if this song makes it into the Top 25.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she said. “I understand why you don’t want to tour yet. But I’m telling you—not just as your best friend, but as your manager—I think it’s something you should seriously consider.”
“I’ll think about it,” I told her.
“In the meantime, be excited,” said Leah. “You did good. I told you that song was going to be a hit. Glad you listened to me.”
“Excuse me,” I said. “You said to not even release that song! You told me to wait and save it for the album release.”
“No, that’s what I said about ‘Beast Coast,’” Leah said. “But, now that we’ve seen how you’re doing already, I think you could put almost anything from the album out, and it would climb the charts.”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
Our waitress came by with our food in record time, catching us by surprise. While we ate, we stared down at our phones. I kept going back to the Billboard charts to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
Occasionally, I looked up from my phone and plate and noticed two girls at a nearby table looking over at me. At first, I ignored them. Then, after a while, it began to make me feel weird. I could’ve sworn I saw them taking pictures of me with their phones.
“Leah,” I whispered. “Am I tripping, or do those girls keep staring at me?”
She turned around to look at the girls, who both nervously looked away when they saw her looking at them.
“I don’t know,” Leah replied. “What’s up?”
“It’s probably nothing,” I said. “They were just kind of weirding me out.”
The surreal tidal wave I was riding only continued. The two girls got up from their table and approached us anxiously. Leah and I both looked up at them, waiting for one of them to speak.
Neither of the girls could summon words, so I did it for them. “Hello.”
“Hi,” said the youngest of the two. “I might be totally embarrassing myself right now, but are you—you’re not Bailey Wright, are you?”
And then, it was I who became embarrassed. “Uh, yes.”
“Oh my God,” the other one said, giggling. “Wow. Okay. Yeah, we knew you lived in Memphis, but we had no idea that you went here.”
“I did,” said the youngest. “I follow you on Instagram, Bailey.”
“Really?” I said as I felt my cheeks growing warmer. “Well, thank you!”
“You can totally say no,” said the other girl. “But, would it be possible, if it’s not too much to ask, could we maybe get a picture with you?”
“Absolutely!” I said without thinking. “Sure. Get your phones out!”
Our waitress was able to take the pictures for us. We were all happy for different reasons.
“You know, I just have to say,” I told the girls. “Y’all are the first people to recognize me like this.”
“What?” they both said in shock. “You’ve been making music for years!”
“Wow, you’re real fans!” I said growing more embarrassed. “I get a lot of ‘Where do I know you from’ and ‘I’ve seen you from somewhere.’ This is the first time someone’s known who I was without me having to tell them. Y’all just made my day and made me feel like a real celebrity.”
I hugged the girls, and they returned to their table. We all stayed smiling during the rest of our meals.
“What did I tell you?” prodded Leah. “Go on tour.”
“That was really special,” I said. I couldn’t believe it. “I really feel famous now.”
Even though I wouldn’t admit it to Leah, I did get a rush from that feeling. Now, the idea of performing for a large number of fans seemed more sensible to me. I’d had a taste, and I was ready to have more.
I headed to the studio so I could record the song I’d be dabbling with. I’d thought of calling my dad on my way over to tell him about my blossoming celebrity status.
Before I could call him, he called me, as if he knew he was on my mind.
“Hey, Dad!” I answered.
“Hey there, famous pop star!” he greeted. “Heard you on the radio this morning!”
“So did I!” I said. “I can’t believe it.”
“When are you releasing your next song?” he asked. “I want to hear more.”
“I’m really not sure,” I answered. “I haven’t made up my mind on which one to put out when.”
“Well, I can’t wait to hear it.”
“I can send you all the tracks on the album now if you want to hear them,” I told him. “You’re my dad. I think I can get away with giving you an exclusive preview.”
“Great! Send them to me!”
“Hey, so guess what?” I said. “I got on the Billboard Top 100. I debuted at number 72! That’s the highest I’ve ever gotten!”
He laughed. “Hot damn, superstar! Good things I’ve got your signature on all sorts of stuff lying around the house. I’ll be sitting on a gold mine by the time your new CD comes out.”
“Ha, ha,” I said. “If I became rich and famous, you wouldn’t need to sell my autograph. I’d move you into a big house here in Tennessee.”
“I was thinking maybe a nice beach house in Florida would be better.”
I laughed. “You can live wherever you want! I’m actually on my way to record some new stuff at the studio right now. I’m about to pull in.”
“Okay,” he said. “Remind me to talk to you about something. I ran into somebody at the bar yesterday, and I’d like to talk to you about it.”
“Okay!” I said. “Also, I want you to know I’ll be coming back to Rome for your birthday next month. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Well then, it’ll be the best birthday ever,” he said. “Darling, I’m so proud of you. And, I’m so happy that you’re doing so well. I knew you were gonna make it.”
“Ah, shucks,” I said. “Well, listen. I don’t want to rush and get off the phone, but I’m like a minute away from the studio and I need to hurry.”
“Okay, honey, no worries,” said my dad. “I’ll talk with you later.”
“All right! Love you, Dad.”
“Love you too, Bailey-bug.”
I hung up, giving myself just enough time to reapply makeup and brush my long sandy blonde hair. As I looked in the rearview mirror, I tried to imagine what I might look like on the cover of my album.
I felt bad about only talking with my dad for a few minutes, but I was happy to have heard his voice. I planned to set aside some time the next day to call him back and have a better, thorough conversation.