by Mercy Amare
“FOUR YEARS!” I scream.
“Yeah,” he says hesitantly. “So you should really consider this before signing. Now, keep in mind, you will be doing well over the next four years. You’ll continue on as you have in your career, and financially, it would be good for you. It really wouldn’t be bad either way, but I know the point of this was to get your freedom.”
I nod, taking in everything he said.
“As for now, you know that your contract with them is up right now. You could walk away right now, and never look back.”
“Could I go with another recording company?” I ask him, already knowing what he’s going to say.
“Unfortunately not. I wish I had been your lawyer when you originally signed with them. However, I could negotiate for you,” he explains. “If your single goes over well, you record your next CD with them and then after that you would the freedom to do whatever and go wherever you want.”
“Do you think they would agree to that?” I ask him.
“There’s only one way to find out, but yes, I think they will,” he nods. “But you should know, from the looks of this contract, they are really expecting you to fail.”
His statement makes me angry. Not at him, but at my record company. Do they really not believe that I am good enough?
“Negotiate with them. I don’t want them to make another penny off me after this,” I say angrily.
“Certainly, Miss Ryan.” He picks up the contract off the table, and tucks it into his briefcase. “I will be in touch. We should probably know something by Wednesday, and then if you’re ready to sign, we will be ready to go.”
“Thank you, Mr. Matthews.”
After he walks out of the room, I fall back onto the couch, cover my face with a pillow, and scream.
Nobody thinks I’m good enough.
But I know I am.
Fuck them. I will show them all!
I grab my guitar and head to my room. I begin writing more songs. I am going to write enough hit songs to fill up the whole damn album!
Wednesday, November 5
8:17 AM
I hate you.
Since Friday night, things between Stephan and me have been weird. We’ve still beenhanging out, sort of… But our conversations have been minimal. I hate that it has to be like this. I hate that we keep hurting each other.
Over the weekend I wrote three songs, all of which Alec and Bridgett loved. I have to say… anger and pain brings out the creative side in me. Between being hurt over Stephan and mad at my record company, I was going to have an amazing album in no time. I only hoped that I got a chance to release the album.
We spent all day Monday and Tuesday in the studio, and today we are going to meet up with my lawyer to go over the details of the contract. I am a little nervous, because as much as I believe in myself I can’t help but think what if. What if I do this and fail? I will spend the next four years of my life being miserable. But on that same note, if I didn’t do it… did it mean that I didn’t believe in myself enough? I couldn’t spend the rest of my life wondering. So I would do it, just to prove to myself, and them, that I am good enough.
Stephan knows that today is the day that I am signing my contract, so he stayed home from school for moral support. Despite everything, I know he cares about me. And I need him here.
“We have to fly to LA,” Alec says, as he hangs up his phone. “Barry wants to hear the single before he signs. He says he doesn’t want to waste his time on a flop, so he wants to approve it.”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “Why? He heard what I had to offer. Why is he making such a big deal about this?”
“Because he’s a dick wad. We have to be at the airport in an hour, so you better get ready.”
I go upstairs, fix my hair, and get dressed. If Barry is going to be there, I assume the rest of the board is going to be too. They expect me to dress like I’m about to walk the red carpet at all times. So I put on a dark blue designer dress that I hadn’t worn before and matching heels. My dress was short. A little shorter than I liked, but I knew what the label wanted. Now, more than ever, it was important for me to impress them.
Stephan’s eyes widen as I walk down the stairs. “Are you wearing that?”
I look down at my dress and nod. “Yep.”
“If you bend over, everybody will see your vagina.”
I laugh at his comment. “I figured you would like this one.”
“I do. But I don’t want everybody else looking at my girlfriend.”
“That dress is perfect,” Alec says, coming up behind us. “It shows them your best assets… Or at least what they think is best.”
Bridgett walks down the stairs, and her eyes widen as she sees me. “Geez… Where is the rest of your dress?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Stephan agrees with Bridgett. “Seriously, go put on something else.”
I put a hoodie over the dress and zip it up. I really don’t like being told what to do, but I know that Stephan doesn’t mean anything by it. “It will be fine.”
“Peter and the crew are going to meet us at the airport,” Alec says. “They are excited about this meeting.”
“I’m glad somebody is,” I groan. “This is going to suck.”
“Maybe you should have a shot of whiskey on the plane. It’ll help calm you down,” Alec suggests.
“I don’t drink anymore,” I say flatly. Right now, though, I’m wishing I did.
“Oh, right,” he says. “Well, I guess I will just have to have two. One for you, and one for me.”
“I hate you.”
10:22 AM
I’m not Scarlett.
It’s just after ten when we land in LA, and a limo is waiting on us when we get there. It was literally the longest four-hour flight of my life. Alex downed two shots, as he promised, and I wanted to rip the shot glass out of his hand. Thankfully, I resisted.
As we drive to my record company’s corporate office, Stephan holds my hand. He doesn’t say a word, which is exactly what I need.
“I’m scared,” I whisper to him, as we get closer to downtown Los Angeles.
He squeezes my hand. “Don’t be. They will love you.”
But his words don’t comfort me. He doesn’t love me, so why should they?
“So when we get there, they are going to bring us right back,” Alec explains. “I think that since I’m offering to produce the album, it will help your case. Bridgett, you need to be there. They’ll be excited. Once the world figures out that Scarlett has a twin, you are both going to get really popular. Besides, you are her manager now, and you need to learn all the ins and outs of the business. And Stephan, you should go back because the women that work there will think you’re hot.”
“Is it appropriate for me to be there?” he asks.
Alec nods. “Yeah. It won’t be a big deal.”
“Guess I’m going to hear your new song.” Stephan grins, obviously satisfied.
Fuck my life.
When we get there, the limo lets us out up front. Peter and the camera crew get out and film us. Paparazzi are also waiting. They begin snapping pictures of us all.
“Scarlett!” They yell.
“Which one is Scarlett?” I hear somebody ask.
“Scarlett! What do you have to say about the rumors of you and Alec Torch living together? Is it true that you’re dating?” Somebody shoves a microphone towards Bridgett’s mouth.
“I’m not Scarlett,” she says, shoving the microphone away.
“Is this your sister?” a reporter asks.
Security rushes out of the building and holds the back crowd while the four of us walk inside, with Peter and the crew following close behind us.
“Guess everybody knows about Bridge now,” Alec says.
“Fuck,” I say. I always knew it would eventually get out, but I wanted to protect Bridgett a little longer before the madness began.
Security walks us to the elevator, and we take it up to the 51st floor.
Alec walks over to her and puts his arms around her. “It’ll be okay,” he says softly to her. His touch seems to calm her down a bit.
What is going on with Alec and Bridgett? They have a very weird love-hate relationship going on. It’s kind of sweet, actually. I hope that Alec doesn’t break her heart.
But then I remember what we are doing on this elevator, and I felt faint. I’m about to go in front of my record label, and see if they approve my new song; a song that my boyfriend hasn’t heard yet, even though it’s about him.
“Are you okay?” Stephan asks.
I’m really not, so I shake my head no.
“They’re going to love your song,” he promises.
“I think I’m more worried that you won’t like it,” I admit. “Maybe I should have just played it for you. I don’t want the first time you hear it to be in front of a bunch of other people.”
“I will wait outside…” he suggests. “You know, if it makes you less nervous.”
The elevator comes to a stop, and the doors open. “It’s okay. I kind of need you there for moral support. Just, maybe ignore the lyrics.”
We all walk off the elevator, and security opens the door to the huge conference room for us. I have been in this room far too many times with my dad. I usually keep quiet and look out the window while my dad does the talking. The view here is magnificent. But today, I am going to be talking for myself. It’s about freaking time.
“Scarlett…” Barry greets us, and then turns to everybody already sitting at the table. “This is Scarlett’s twin, Bridgett,” he tells him. “And Alec is the one who produced this song, right?”
Alec nods. “Alec Torch,” he introduces himself, and everybody laughs. Everybody knows who he is. But he also is the son of their competitor, so it’s a little awkward.
“And this is Stephan,” I tell Barry. “He’s here for moral support.”
“So, do you guys have the demo ready?” Barry asks.
Alec nods and gives the song to Barry’s assistant. I’m still wondering why we couldn’t just email it to them.
When the song starts playing, I decide right then and there that it is going to be a long day.
8:58 PM
Fantasy
I was right. Today was possibly the longest day of my life. And we haven’t even left LA yet.
The meeting was… different than I expected.
First, it was awkward. They played the song I wrote for Stephan. You know, the one that he hadn’t heard before today. So I tried my hardest not to look at him. I was scared to see what his reaction would be.
And then we all got down to business, and I put Stephan to the back of my mind. Eventually we would have to talk about the song, but not until after the meeting. I just didn’t realize how long the meeting would be.
Everybody loved the song. (Which, by the way, did wonders for my ego. As if I wasn’t already full of myself). So they decided, YES, they would give me a chance. Which gave Mr. Matthews time to negotiate my contract. Now, if my song fails, I’m only stuck being Barry’s bitch for one year instead of four… Yep, my lawyer rocks. Or maybe my song rocked that much, I don’t know. I think I’m going to go with my song rocked that much, because that makes me happier to admit.
So, we negotiated for three hours, ate lunch while a new contract was drawn up, and then we signed. At this point, I’ve almost forgotten about the whole “embarrassing song I wrote for Stephan being played” (ALMOST being the key word here).
So finally, about four in the afternoon (seven Florida time), we are going to leave to go back home. Well, technically, I’m only going home for a couple of days and then coming back. I have to film a music videofor my new song and prepare for the release of my new single… And by prepare I mean do a ton of radio and TV interviews.
So, security tries to walk us to our limo, but we can’t even get out the front door. Paparazzi are all lined up, waiting to get pictures of Bridgett and me… “Scarlett’s evil twin sister is released from the mental hospital” I believe is one of the rumors. That one was kind of awesome. Also “Scarlett is ashamed of her twin sister”. That one made me mad. But my personal favorite had to be, “Scarlett was cloned by aliens!”
So while we are waiting for the LAPD to arrive and clear the streets, Barry thinks it’s the perfect opportunity to invite PRESS inside! (He says it’s “for publicity’s sake”). I know, I know! He’s crazy! Why invite that madness inside? So, he lets only the biggest networks inside and lets them ask us questions. Seriously, he sets out chairs and a podium like I’m the freaking president or something. (Okay, that might have fed my ego just a little… or a lot, whatever).
So I’m too busy answering questions to even think about what I am going to say to Stephan. At this point, maybe my mind is avoiding the topic. Besides, I’ve already come to the conclusion that I am a really good avoider.
So finally, the cops clear the streets, the reporters leave, and we are in the limo on the way to the airport. Right now, Stephan and I are sitting with Bridgett and Alec. Everybody is really tired, except me. My mind isrunning 100 MPH. I’m realizing that I only have a few more minutes of avoidance before I have to talk to Stephan… A few more minutes before I have to talk about the lyrics I wrote about him. And I’m scared. What the hell was I thinking when I wrote that song? Or better yet, what the hell was I thinking when I recorded it? That song should have been burnt the second I finished writing it.
My heart beats faster every time you’re near. I want to tell you how I feel. I need you to know that this is real. But I don’t want to tell you — I’m scared of rejection. But I have to tell you…
You are my today, my tomorrow, my forever. You’ve got my soul, and I want you to keep it. But there’s one more thing that I’ve got to say.
I know that this is just the beginning. What you and I have is more than a crush. I’m falling in love. Hell, I’m already in love.
Nobody else can make me feel like this. I’m head over heels. I’m planning our forever.
I love you. Forever.
The song plays over again in my head, and I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks. I look over at Stephan, and he is looking at me. I’m looking for anger, but I don’t see any. He’s got a curious expression as he studies me.Maybe he’s contemplating all the ways he can dump me? Or maybe he’s going to murder me? Having your very famous girlfriend write a love song for you has got to be embarrassing… Especially considering he doesn’t feel the same way.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
I’m thinking of all the ways that you can murder me. I’m also wondering where you’re going to hide my body. “Nothing.” I shrug. “Just thinking how weird today was.”
Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“I think it was a good day. You got everything you wanted.”
Not everything.Because if I did have everything, Stephan would be telling me how much he loves me right now… We would be so anxious to get home. Then he would rip my clothes off, devouring me. He would then explore every inch of my body with his tongue, and then when the both of us couldn’t take it anymore he would fuck me senseless… No…He would make love to me… But that’s not happening. And for now, it’s all just a fantasy.
A very hot fantasy.
But still, not real.
“This dress is really fucking hot,” he whispers in my ear. For a moment, I wonder if he can read my expression. Did he know that I was playing out a naughty fantasy in my head? “I want to rip it off.”
Oh my God. He does know what I was thinking!
And then he adds, “With my teeth.”
As if I wasn’t turned on enough, that statement pretty much took me over the edge. I like his fantasy a little bit better. But then I remember that I’m embarrassed. I just confessed my love for him in a con
ference room full of record company executives, my sister, and my best friend (who I also happened to make out with one time).
Yeah, the fantasy died before it even began.
Stephan gives me one of his panty-dropping smiles. “Please, Scar, tell me what you’re thinking.”
I choke on the air. How am I supposed to respond to that? “I’m thinking that it’s going to be a very long plane ride home.”
He nods his head in agreement.
“What are you thinking?” I ask. “You know, besides the sexual fantasy you’ve got going on.”
“That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” he whispers in my ear.
Why is it that no matter what Stephan does, it turns me on? I shouldn’t shiver because he whispered in my ear. But I do. And he does turn me on… so much that if my sister and best friend weren’t in the limo with us, I would not be in my own seat.I would be riding on his lap instead… Oh, how I wish they weren’t.
“What day are you going to fly out to LA?” Stephan asks.
“I’m thinking Saturday night. I have an interview early on Sunday morning, so I guess it would be nice to get everything settled since I’ll be here a few weeks.” Then I remember that Stephan lives in Hope. And I can’t imagine going two whole weeks without seeing him every day. By the pained look on his face, I think he may just be thinking the same thing.
“Maybe we could fly out Friday, and I could spend the weekend with you in LA,” he suggests.
I nod, smiling. “I would like that. In fact, I would like it if you flew here every weekend to see me.”
“Trust me, I will. Nothing will ever keep me away from you,” he promises, and then kisses me gently on the lips.
My embarrassment is almost forgotten in that moment. Yet, somehow, it’s in the back of my mind. And I can’t help but wonder what Stephan is going to say once we are alone. I hope he lets me down easy.
It’s nearly five in the morning when our plane lands in Florida. The time difference is really a killer. When we get home, instead of talking, Stephan and I crash on my bed. My mind is too tired to wander, or even care about being embarrassed. I know that there will be plenty of time for that later.
