by T L Dasha
“No, I technically dumped him.” I buried my face in my sundae so I wouldn’t have to make eye contact with anyone. “I guess it’s not fair for me to be upset when I’m the one who walked away.”
“That’s not really how break ups work.” Abby stifled a laugh with her concern. “You wouldn’t have broken up with him if he hadn’t done something to hurt you.”
“She’s right, you know.” Logan nodded. “But whatever. Fuck ‘im. It’s not like he was writing your songs for you… Wait, he wasn’t writing your songs for you, was he? Is that why there’s a problem?”
“What, no- of course not. He was just… my muse or something.” My face flushed. I couldn’t even talk about Jay without remembering all the ways he made me feel. I tried to blink away the moisture building up in my eyes.
Abby came around the counter to give me a hug. “You were good before him, and you’ll be even better going forward.” She spoke softly in my ear.
“She’s right about that, too.” Logan and Abby locked eyes, the same grin plastered on both of their faces. “Besides, this last challenge isn’t about love or childhood memories or anything else. The reason there’s no theme and no rules and no expectations is because this last song is going to be about us. If you don’t think we can win anyway, then let’s forget about all of this marketability bullshit, and let’s just have fun with it.”
I don’t know how, but I found myself smiling. I looked at Logan. I looked at Abby. And I gave them both a nod.
“Alright, let’s do this for Fighting Chance!”
###
The final round took place in a park. A massive stage had been constructed seemingly overnight, complete with lights and amps and platforms for our instruments. A set of banners were tied to the rafters, displaying our new, professionally designed band logos, ready to fall as each one of us took the stage.
There were two bands left. Fighting Chance and Dread Theory. We were up first.
Jay had called me only once since I had last seen him a week ago. I didn’t answer, so he left a message that I also didn’t listen to. I couldn’t afford to be distracted, and I couldn’t afford to let him get in my head again. Lance would sing Jay’s song, and I would sing mine. And I was going to beat him at his own game. Even if I couldn’t take the official crown, I was still going to give it my all. The audience would know who the real winner was.
They hid the tiredness under my eyes in the makeup trailer. I didn’t let them trade out my lip rings for studs this time. I spiked up my faux hawk myself, and grabbed a sleeveless top, black jeans, black boots, and a studded belt from wardrobe.
Logan tied his hair into a bun, and threw on a simple t-shirt and jeans, a half zipped hoodie, and a single black glove on his right hand. Nothing crazy or flashy. Just us.
The park was already overflowing with people, endless faces covering a couple acres of manicured grass. Those who couldn’t get in sat atop their cars, while a few hundred more people decorated the nearby hillside with picnic blankets and camp chairs. The finale had sold out, and at least half of these people were here to see me.
Drake introduced us, though his voice seemed distant compared to the overwhelming anxiety filling my head. The lights flared. Our banner dropped.
That was our cue. I climbed the stairs onto the stage.
My heart was beating in perfect time with the crowd’s applause. Quick, loud, chaotic, completely out of control. A bead of sweat slid down my cheek, catching on my jawline, and dripping off my chin. I don’t know if it was from my nerves or the heat of the blaring neon lights overhead. I can barely believe we’ve come this far. Would I be here if not for him?
No. Don’t think about him right now. I can’t. He doesn’t deserve a place on this stage with me. He never did. This is my one chance, and I’m not going to screw it up because of him.
I gripped the mic firmly and swallowed hard.
“I hope you’re ready to rock, Los Angeles!”
My eyes fell shut as I lost myself in the audience’s cheers. A faint vibration flowed through my whole body as the sound reverberated off the walls of the stage.
Up until now, I had lost focus on the goal. I had forgotten what all of this was about in the first place. It was about time I got back to that. This wasn’t ever about my relationship with Jay. I wasn’t up here to impress him. This was about my voice, my song, and my words. This was about the hearts of all of those people out there in the crowd connecting with mine, and growing with mine. This was about showing the world who I am. Who we are. No pretense. No masks. Just us.
“It’s been a long road getting here.” I began. “When I first played a song at my little sister’s birthday party for a very enthusiastic group of six year olds, I never would have expected to be up here right now, selling out a show in this beautiful city that I call home.” Some laughs speckled the crowd. I relaxed into a smile. “But this has changed me in more ways than I could have ever imagined.”
Logan gave me a nod of approval. I continued.
“But of all the great things I’ve had the opportunity to experience thanks to this show, I also started to lose myself. I forgot why we were here in the first place. I got tangled up with the wrong people, and I was so hungry for success that all I could focus on was trying to impress them. I worried more about my image than about my honesty, and I lost what it is that made me want to sing in the first place.”
“So, this song is a throwback to simpler times, when me and my best buddy here used to laugh at how lame we were, and make all around terrible choices. When we spent more time playing video games in my dorm room than we did playing wingman at the bar. Back when we understood who was important without having to be told.”
I took another deep breath, to absorb the words back into my soul. Then I handed Logan the mic and I took a step back.
His grin stretched from ear to ear as he faced the crowd. “We call this song ‘Habanero Marmalade.’”
###
Dread Theory followed our performance. I didn’t care enough to watch. I didn’t care enough to see how the votes panned out either. It didn’t matter. I accomplished what I set out to accomplish. Maybe we weren’t destined to get this record deal, but we’d shown our worth to one of the biggest and most judgmental cities in the world, and we were still standing, riding high on whoops and cheers and enthusiasm. I don’t know if we’d have other chances, but I could rest easy knowing we had done all we could, even if the odds were impossible.
I grabbed as many free sandwiches as I could feasibly fit in my arms from the catering area, figuring if I was going to lose, I could at least take a consolation prize. Once I resumed working at Meli’s Diner, real food was going to be a bit scarce again. Logan gathered up some deserts.
As I took a bite that would put pac-man to shame, savoring the delicious flavor of a job well done, a voice rang out behind me.
“Roland Finley and Logan Michaels, correct?”
I turned around to see a tall man in a business suit, thin with short blond hair and a sporty pair of sunglasses.
“My name is Jonathan Chandler, director of marketing and acquisition for ALIVE Records.” He extended a hand. I nearly dropped all my sandwiches trying to return the gesture. NEARLY. My priorities were still were they should be. “Do you have a minute?”
I don’t know that I had ever been so conflicted by such an exciting question. Did Jay put him up to this? I’m sure they work together.
Fortunately for our career chances, Logan didn’t give me a chance to think on it any longer than that. “We have as many as you need.” He smiled, beaming with confidence.
“Excellent, if you don’t mind.” Jonathan waved for us to follow him.
I glanced over at Logan, whispering as quietly as I could. “You know Jay works for ALIVE, right?”
“And?” He kept walking.
“I don’t want to see him.”
“And?”
“There’s basically no way in hell we’re about to talk t
o the acquisitions manager of ALIVE and Jay won’t be involved.”
“And?” Goddammit, Logan…
He gave me a quick pat on the shoulder. I let out a sigh and followed along. Whatever. Even if I was risking running into him, ALIVE was a big company. And if this was about a potential contract, unlike Dread Theory, it’s not like I would need him to write for me. We could probably work with the same people and never have to acknowledge each other.
The thought wasn’t as comforting as I wanted myself to believe it was. Probably because I didn’t believe a word of it.
Jonathan welcomed us into a meeting room with a long oval table, then directed us to a pair of seats. A man with a tailored suit and silver hair sat at the far end, while Jay sat in the seat across and center. His expression was cold and serious, and his laptop screen reflected in his lenses, bar charts vaguely visible over his eyes. He didn’t look up from his laptop.
“Gentleman, I’d like to introduce you to Roland Finley and Logan Michaels of Fighting Chance.” We shook hands with the man at the end. “This is Robin Greeley, my second chair in ALIVE’s marketing department, and I trust you’ve already met Jay McClintock.”
“Yes, we’ve met.” Jay’s tone was deadpan. He still didn’t look up. He didn’t offer a handshake either. His finger stayed fixed on the keys, typing away at whatever it was he was working on. Jonathan didn’t seem particularly bothered or surprised by his lack of courtesy. I guess Jay didn’t discriminate in his failed people skills.
I took a seat next to Logan, and Jonathan took a seat next to Jay.
Jonathan folded his hands on the table, and gave me a warm smile. “As you know, the winner of the competition is set to get a record deal, which we’ll be handling in conjunction with SINapse Network’s music department. But I want to talk to you about some more direct possibilities for your future.”
“More direct?” Logan glanced at me then back at Jonathan, a tangle of hope and confusion in his eyes. My gaze slipped over to Jay, who still hadn’t shifted his eyes from his keyboard. They hadn’t even announced the winners yet, but I guess they assumed everyone knew the outcome at this point.
“Right.” Jonathan nodded. “While we’ll still be lending some of our resources to helping promote Dread Theory, they’re ultimately in the hands of SINapse. But for us, the way the two of you interact, your snappy lyrics, high energy, and general positivity- I think you have the natural charisma we need here at ALIVE. Brad Garza, himself, agreed that you would be an excellent addition to the team.”
Jay cocked an eyebrow but still didn’t look up. He continued typing.
“My colleague here also thought you would be an excellent fit.” Jonathan nudged Jay, giving him a ‘back me up here’ smile. Finally, Jay shut his laptop. He adjusted his glasses, then leaned back in his chair.
“Yes. You’re passable.”
Jonathan elbowed Jay with a frown, and turned to us again, “That sounds harsh, but that’s an incredible compliment from Jay, I promise.”
I caught Jay’s eyes, letting him absorb all of my skepticism. “What comes with a deal like this, exactly?”
Jonathan chimed in. “We’ve already prepared the contract for you to review, and we would be happy to discuss more once you’ve gone over our offer, if you’re interested. Of course, I’d be happy to answer any questions right now, as well.”
“Will we be working with Mr. McClintock?” I didn’t take my eyes off him. He didn’t take his eyes off of me either.
“Absolutely.” Jonathan beamed. “He is the best in the business, and he will be an integral part of assuring your success. He’s worked with a number of top performers in his ten years with ALIVE Records.”
“I can write my own songs.” My voice was slightly more antagonistic than I had intended.
But Jonathan remained cool. He was probably used to much worse from Jay. “Of course you can. Which you’ll still be doing. But you’ll have Jay’s wealth of experience and expertise to help offer extra guidance. As the saying goes, if you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.”
However upbeat Jonathan seemed to be, the room was still heavy with silence, an electric tension jumping between my stare and Jay’s. Work with him? Put myself at his mercy? Just like that? And then, what, fool around with him in between sets until he gets bored? Was this just some half-hearted attempt to get me back?
This was too much. The worst part of this whole situation was, as all of my wildest dreams were sitting there right in front of me, offering to make my entire life everything I ever wanted it to be with a single stroke of a pen, I knew I couldn’t take it. It wasn’t fair. It was cruel. To have this dangling in front of me, so close I could taste it, while the deepest parts of my gut knew it wasn’t right. It didn’t feel genuine. It didn’t feel earned.
When I first met Jay, standing in that park, making me feel so small with his cocky smile and his big time credentials- back then I would have jumped at this chance. I wouldn’t have cared if I was only being offered a contract because I made the right connection. Networking is what this industry is all about, right? Talent is secondary to who you know. Just look at Dread Theory. I would have given anything to be in their shoes, being groomed and built for success.
But today? Today, the thread that connected us felt too heavy to lift. No matter how hard I tugged, those strings would still be attached. This would always be about Jay. About our relationship. About my feelings. It wasn’t our talent. It wasn’t Logan’s guitar riffs or my lyrics.
That’s not fair. Maybe it was. Maybe Jay had nothing to do with all this. We’ve done so well in the competition, it’s only natural we would have attracted the attention of a label. Brad Garza even vouched for us. Brad Garza!
Jay’s Brad Garza.
I can’t. I’m so sorry, Logan.
“I don’t think-“
Jay interrupted me the moment I opened my mouth. Typical. “Before you decide, I’ve written a proposal that I’d like you to read over.” He reached into a messenger bag, and handed me a document, keeping his expression vague and unreadable. But then he glanced to the side, breaking eye contact. If I didn’t know better, I would think he looked a little sad. “If the contract suits you, give that a read. Otherwise you can tear it up.”
He stood and looked down at Jonathan. “Are we done here?”
“Uh… sure.” Jonathan gave him a nod, and reached for the contract to add to my stack of papers. “Right. As I was saying, feel free to call or email us with any questions. We would be happy to set up another meeting once you’ve had time to review and discuss this among yourselves. No pressure!” He had a cordial smile, as he got up and took his leave with Jay and Robin.
Logan and I sat alone in the meeting room, trying to absorb what just happened.
“So what do you think?” Logan looked at me, a complicated expression on his face. Every word subtly pleading for me to say anything but what he knew I was going to say.
“I…” I bit my lower lip, pulling in my lip rings. It was easy to say ‘no’ in my head. It was nearly impossible to say it to Logan.
“We’re going to have to pass this up aren’t we…” The exasperation in his voice was well deserved. “There’s definitely, DEFINITELY no way at all whatsoever that you guys can work together?”
I started to shake my head, but Logan was still pleading. “What if the contract is super lenient? Like, you don’t even have to see each other. If you just dumped him, he probably doesn’t want to work with you either, right? When we’re on tour, you can forget he exists. I’ll find you some groupies or something. It’ll be fine.”
Maybe it wasn’t really fair for me to refuse the chance of a lifetime for both of us over this. Logan was basically my brother, and brothers are supposed to look out for each other. I wasn’t just about to give up my dream, but I was about to crush his.
But even knowing that, I wanted so badly to be selfish. When I didn’t say anything for several minutes, Logan sighe
d and stood up.
“How about this. I’m going to walk away for a minute and go mingle with some fans, and you can take some time to come to a rational decision.” He gave me a pat on the shoulder. “We made it this far on our own. I’m sure this won’t be the end of the road either way.” His voice was wavering, but the fact that he was still saying those words meant everything. “I’ll support whatever you decide.”
Logan walked out of the room, and I sat at the table, alone with the contract, alone with my thoughts, and simply alone. My heart felt heavy, and I just kept asking myself ‘what kind of a game is this?’ I considered throwing it all away without reading it, but that wouldn’t be fair to Logan. Or Jay.
Was the fact that he lied to me enough of a reason to throw all of this away? Was I turning it all down because I was still angry at him? For my pride? Or was it because I still… Was it because I want to… Because…
I absentmindedly fingered through the pages, without any of the mind to actually read them. Once I had flipped through the contract, I picked up Jay’s Proposal.
It was only a couple pages. The title page said ‘The Fighting Chance Project’ in bold, simple typeface. The first page had an album proposal with a potential track list and notes describing each song.
--
That Night You Left Me (Concept album: Continuity across songs tells a complete story when played in order)
Track 1) Drivel (You Can’t Be Serious)
--
Snort. Fucking Jay. I almost forgot I was supposed to be mad at him for a brief second. But I’m a committed person. Still mad. I continued reading.
--
Track 1) Drivel (You Can’t Be Serious)
- Two people meet. Disjointed but charming. Slow melody, confused distortion, and the occasional missed note. This should be the start of a fun game.
Track 2) Curiosity (Always Running Into You)
-Flashes of lust, questions of hope. What was it about you that kept catching my eye? No, it’s obvious. You get it. You have heart. But it wasn’t just that.
