He went back to the making of the demo at Van Gelder Studios. On the drive to Englewood Cliffs, Donny was himself. His friend was unusually quiet when they played the demo, but Cory had chalked it up as not wanting to get in the way.
As Cory thought about the ride back, detecting a certain distance, the front desk announced Tracy’s arrival.
* * *
Cory was given a thumbs-up by an engineer and stepped into the radio studio. The DJ said, “Cory Loop is in the house. He just stepped into the booth. Here, put these on.”
Cory was handed a pair of headphones and sat across from the DJ. His phone rang. He looked at the number and got up. “I have to get this.”
Tracy was behind the glass waving her arms as the DJ said, “Hey, where you going? Well, folks, this is a first for KTU, Cory Loop just took a phone call, live on the air. Cory’s signaling he’ll be right back, so let’s play his latest release, ‘Tropical Storm,’ as he takes care of business.”
Tracy said, “Are you crazy? You were on the air.”
Cory turned his back, putting a finger in his ear. He whispered into the phone, “Thanks for calling me back. Look, I need you to find out if there is a connection between Donny Blake, he’s the bass player in my band, and Bonner. I think something is going on between them, and I want to know what.”
“Give me a day or so.”
“Keep it quiet, because I’m pretty sure Donny knows I’m onto him and Bonner.”
“No worries. I’ll be in touch.”
As soon as Cory hung up, Tracy said, “Hurry, get back in there.”
Cory entered the studio, and the DJ motion muted his mic. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. Family emergency, but it’s under control.”
“Good. Okay, the song is ending. We’re going live in five seconds.”
“Cory Loop is back in the studio. Welcome to WKTU.”
“It’s good to be here.”
“Really?”
“Why? You don’t want me here?”
“No, I was referring to you taking a phone call in the booth.”
“What of it?”
“It was unusual.”
“Why is everyone on my back? I can’t do anything without a comment.”
“I’m sorry. Let’s start over. Shall we? WKTU is excited that Cory Loop is in the house. Tell us about the new album.”
“It’s coming out Friday, just a few days away, and we’re having a giant party to celebrate at uh, uh, damn, I can’t remember right now, but you’re all invited.”
“I think it’s at One Oak. That sound right?”
“Yeah, that’s it. We’re going to have a lot of goodies to give away, so come on out.”
“Can you tell the audience what they can expect from the rest of the album?”
“I think fans will like it. We worked hard on it, and I’m hoping it does well.”
“We wish you luck with it. Are you going on tour?”
“Yeah, even though I’d like to stay put for a while. They want me to get out on the road.”
“You don’t enjoy playing live?”
“No, no, I do. I love meeting fans, but I’m a little tired, and living out of a suitcase is not as much fun as it looks like. Nobody really likes it.”
“Rumors are you might be replacing a couple of the players. Is that because they don’t want to go on the road?”
“Who told you that? Was it Dave?” He pointed at Tracy. “Was it you?”
“Just a rumor. How about we play the other single from the album, ‘Circles’?”
The DJ muted the mic and ripped his headphones off. “Hey, man, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m just trying to get a little scoop for my listeners.”
Cory stood. “Where did you hear that?”
“When I told somebody you were coming in, he told me he heard it.”
Tracy opened the door. “Cory, come on, we have to get a move on.”
Cory walked out, and Tracy said, “I’m sorry, he’s under a lot of pressure,” she lowered her voice, “family problems.”
As they drove to the next appointment, Tracy said, “You’ve got to calm things down. It’s like you’re ready to jump down everybody’s throat.”
“I’m not jumping on anyone; everybody is attacking me.”
“Were you drinking?”
“No.”
“Take anything?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? because you’re slurring your words.”
“Leave me alone.”
“I just want this next one to go well. You know Z100 plays your music more than anyone else, especially Artie—”
“He was close to Jay Bird.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“I’m not going on his show, am I?”
“No. He goes off the air just before you go on.”
* * *
Cory and Tracy checked in and went into a small reception area. A young woman sitting said, “Are you Cory Loop?”
“Yep.”
She got up and extended her hand. “I’m Rosie Garland. I’m a reporter with the Daily News.”
Tracy said, “Sorry, but we can’t do an interview.”
“Okay, but this is so exciting. Are you going on the air?”
“Yeah. Got to push the new album. It’s out on Friday.”
“I loved the first one.”
“Thanks.” Cory’s phone chimed and he pulled it out. “Shit.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
Cory turned his back and read the text: Fifty thousand. Send it now.
“Motherfucker.”
Tracy said, “Shush. What’s the matter?”
“Leave me alone.” He dug out the bottle of Adderall and dropped it. The bottle rolled away, and the reporter bent down, picking it up.
She looked at the label before handing it to Cory. “Here you go.”
Artie, the DJ, came into the room. “Hey there, Rosie. Hanging with the stars, are we?” After the introductions, Artie said, “You should come back. I’d love to have you on my show.”
Tracy said, “Sure. I’ll contact the office and throw out some dates.”
“Perfect. You know, I used to play piano back in the day.”
Cory said, “Super. You don’t play anymore?”
“Actually, I started playing again about a year ago.”
Cory said, “You taking lessons?”
“No, don’t have the time, but I still have my books from when I took them as a kid.”
“Who was your teacher?”
“Oh, I don’t remember the guy’s name.”
“I’ll bet it was Joe Bonner.”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh, yeah you do. You and him, it makes sense. You know Donny Blake?”
“Who?”
“Don’t play fucking dumb with me.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Tracy and Dave arrived just before 7 p.m. The front desk announced their presence to Cory. Head pounding, Cory wanted to tell them he wasn’t feeling well. He felt like shit, but he knew he’d have to deal with them sooner or later and gave the go-ahead.
Cory ran his hands through his hair as he tidied the place up. The elevator pinged, and the visitors entered the apartment.
Tracy said, “How are you, Cory?”
“All right.”
Dave said, “We’ve got some damage control to do.”
“I know, but I’m warning you, if you start with the I-told-you-so bullshit, you’re out of here.”
Dave said, “You won’t hear it from me. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have to get out in front of this. Where’s the remote?”
Cory pointed, and Dave pulled his tablet out. “Sit down. You need to see this.”
The theme song to Entertainment Tonight played, and the host of the show said, “Welcome to ET. Our lead story this evening is one that’s unfortunately become too familiar to viewers.”
A montag
e of images of Cory Loop, none flattering, replaced the show’s anchor, as the voice-over announced: “We have a confidential source that pop star Cory Loop is heading into rehab. The Grammy-winning artist is seeking treatment for drug abuse. It’s believed to be an addiction to Adderall as reported in the Page Six column of today’s Daily News.
“This latest development follows Cory Loop’s bizarre appearance on Z100, a New York radio station.
“Last year’s new artist of the year slurred his speech and at times was incoherent during an interview on Z100. Just before going on the show, Mr. Loop had an altercation with DJ Artie, the station’s most popular disc jockey.
“We wish him well and look forward to his next musical project.”
“Rehab? I ain’t going, and I don’t need that bullshit.”
Dave said, “I hope you give consideration to going. Success is a tough thing for most people to deal with.”
Tracy said, “Dave’s right. There’s no stigma to seeking help.”
“You two think you’re cute, don’t you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Coming together, ganging up on me with this rehab crap.”
“We want the best for you, Cory. We’re concerned about your health.”
“Who put you up to it? The label?”
Tracy sat next to Cory. “You may not realize it, but you have a problem. If you deal with it now, it’ll be easier to overcome.”
“I can handle it myself. I’m not going to one of those places.”
“There are a couple of facilities, small ones, that cater to people like you—”
“People like me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Take it easy. I was referring to successful people who need privacy.”
Dave said, “If you’re getting help, the public will forgive incidents like this. We’ll release a statement, and you’ll get the space you need to recover, and it will fade away.”
“I told you I’m not going, so forget it.”
“Think it over some. If you don’t change your mind, we’re going to have to address it. I don’t want to remind you the label has an out in the contract—”
“What out?”
“A morals clause. I not a lawyer, but if they feel an artist is dragging them into a scandal, it could damage their reputation.”
“Scandal? Now I’m a fucking scandal?”
“Geez, I didn’t mean it like that. Look, my job is to do what’s best for you. We’re not the enemy.”
Cory resisted the urge to make a drink. He grabbed the remote and put the TV on.
Tracy said, “There’s no problem with canceling what we have on the calendar. We’ll just push any commitments back until you’re ready.”
“The album is coming out. I got to support it.”
Tracy said, “Maybe we can delay it.”
Dave said, “I, uh, don’t think that’s an option at this point. The wheels are in motion, media buys have been made . . .”
“If you’re not going to get help, then we’re going to need a plan to address the negative publicity. Parents aren’t going to give their kids money to buy the album if they think you’re out of control.”
“Tell me what you want me to do.”
Dave said, “We’ll do a series of appearances, but you got to be sober. There’s no other way.”
“Don’t worry about me. Set it up.”
Tracy said, “We need to do something charitable. It will give the media something to focus on. Something that would benefit children, maybe a sizable donation to a cancer hospital that cares for sick kids.”
“I like the idea, but what’s sizable?”
“Half a million.”
“Five hundred thousand? That’s a ton of money. Money I don’t have right now.”
“Exactly. That’s why it will work. It’s a large amount, and you’re doing it despite the fact your manager stole from you.”
“But I don’t have the money.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll work out the timing of the donation. The important thing is to make the announcement and get the press. You won’t have to make good on it for six months.”
Cory’s phone rang. It was Mr. Black. “I got to take this.” Cory closed the bedroom door behind him and answered the call.
Chapter Forty-Three
Cory mulled the blackmail request that came in when he landed. He had to get it off his mind and sent a message to his new manager to wire the funds. It was hard to believe that Bonner was working alone. Mr. Black had said he couldn’t find a connection between Bonner and Donny, but that didn’t stop Cory from going off on his friend.
Cory had exploded when Donny told him he was heading for the same ending as Jay Bird had. Donny had no idea what he was talking about.
He turned to Tracy. “Do me a favor and tell Donny to watch this tonight.”
She smiled. “Sure.”
The door to the green room opened, and a young woman poked her head in. “It’s time for you to go on.”
Tracy walked Cory out, saying, “Keep it cool out there. You do well, and we’ll get all this behind us.”
“I know.”
“You got this.”
Cory stood just offstage as Conan O’Brien said, “Our next guest has taken the music industry by storm. Let’s give it up for the best new artist of the year, Cory Loop.”
A pair of cameras followed Cory as polite applause broke out. He waved to the middle-aged audience, who made up the core of the talk show’s fans.
Cory shook Conan’s hand and sat down. “Welcome to the show.”
“It’s good to be here.”
“Well, I guess it is. Reports had it you were going to be somewhere else for a while.”
Cory smiled. “That’s why they’re called rumors.”
“You’re doing okay, then?”
“All’s good. As most people know, I had an incident on a radio station, but like a lot of things in my life these days, it got blown out of proportion. My nutritionist has me taking a bunch of supplements, and one of them interacted with an allergy medicine my doctor prescribed.”
“I know what you mean. My hair used to be black before I started taking vitamins.”
The audience broke out in laughter and Conan said, “The new album is coming out tomorrow, right?”
“Yes.”
“Your first one is a tough act to follow. If it doesn’t do as well, will it bother you?”
“I’m okay with whatever happens. I mean, I’d love for it to do well. I certainly worked hard trying to make it the best it could be, but I’m just so grateful to be able to do what I love doing. I can’t complain.”
“Let me see if I can help you with the complaining part of that. You must have been upset to learn your manager was allegedly stealing from you.”
“It wasn’t alleged, he did steal, and it was a significant amount of money. I was hurt by the way he broke the trust I had in him, but I’m over it.”
“My kids are older than yours, but I remember coming up, doing shows in a different town every night. It was hard to maintain the right balance between work and family.”
“No doubt it’s been tough. My wife and I are struggling with it, but I make sure to see them when I’m in town and to talk with them just about every day.”
“It’s worth the effort.”
“Definitely.”
“We have a special treat tonight. Cory is going to do an acoustical version of ‘Circles,’ off the new album.”
Cory played the guitar and sang the single live. The audience loved it, and he walked offstage to a standing ovation.
Tracy said, “That was wonderful.”
“You think so?”
“Absolutely. You seemed to have a little chemistry thing going with Conan.”
“I met him once backstage. He took his daughter to the Staples Center show we did.”
“It’s good neither of you mentioned it. How do you feel?”
; “Good.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. If you still want to do it, before we head to the airport, we’ll go to Cedar Sinai hospital and stop in the children’s wing. Say hello, sign some autographs and cheer some kids up.”
“That’ll be fun.”
Tracy called the hospital to set up the visit and the Los Angeles Times to make sure they would be there to cover it.
As the SUV drove down Beverly Boulevard, Cory’s phone rang. It was his financial manager, Joe Baffa. “Mr. Lupinski, we need to talk.”
“I’m in Los Angeles right now. What’s up?”
“I arranged the wire, but there’s nothing left. You’re running a deficit. We need to cut expenses, and quickly, or you’ll be insolvent.”
“The new album is going to start bringing money in.”
“That may be the reality, but there is a significant time lag between the sales and receipt of royalty payments. Anywhere between ninety and a hundred and eighty days.”
“That sounds about right.”
“You’ll be in arrears. The bank may start foreclosure proceedings on your Connecticut home.”
“I can’t lose the house. We’ll have to borrow time somehow. I’m going to tour soon, and that’s where the money is.”
“I’m aware, but ticket vendors don’t pay any faster.”
“Can’t we get a loan to tide me over?”
“It’s possible, but a lender is going to be diligent—”
Pulling in front of the hospital, Cory said, “With all due respect, can’t you handle this? Get working on a loan or something to get us some time?”
“I’ll begin the process, but it is my recommendation that you consider selling the home and pare back your spending. If something would happen to you or some event were to transpire, preventing or limiting the ability to tour, you’d be in dire financial straits. I’m asking you to seriously consider the advice I’m giving you.”
“I will. I gotta go.”
Cory pocketed his phone. “Every day it’s something else.”
Tracy said, “Managing the money is a challenge for most artists. It starts coming in and they spend more than they realize and—”
“You think I don’t fucking realize that? What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m just saying it’s a common problem. It might make sense to get out of the Connecticut place, especially with what’s going on with Linda.”
Cory's Dilemma Page 15
