Queen of Kings

by RH Tucker

  Getting to the burger restaurant, I head inside and quickly order the food, and by the time I get back to the building, Jade and Lily are still in the mixing room, chatting.

  “You just said he’s cute!” Lily exclaims.

  “Burgers are here,” I say, carrying the bags over to the table they’re sitting at. Both of them snap their heads over toward me, then their eyes dart back and forth. “You guys are still hungry, right?”

  They exchange quick glances once again, a slight pink spreading over Jade’s face. “Uh, yeah. Starving.”

  9

  Jade

  Unlike the other day—my first visit to the studio when I just focused on the strings, feeling nothing around me but the rhythm I want to express—I can’t do that right now. My fingers lightly strum the strings of the guitar, and I hum a melody, thinking I might find something, but it’s all garbage.

  “Ugh, that’s horrible!” I look up from the microphone, into the studio where Lily’s sitting, and see Austin inside. “Oh, Austin. I thought the guy at the front said you weren’t coming in today.”

  “Yeah, I wasn’t,” he responds, looking around the room. “I’m sorry about the mix-up. I just wanted to come down and let you know I had nothing to do with it and anything I could do to make it up to you, believe me, I’ll do.”

  He seems so sincere. And it’s nice that even though it’s not his fault, he’s here trying to make sure everything is okay. Other than Peter, who’s always looked after us, I don’t remember the last time someone actually wanted to make sure I was taken care of on a personal level.

  But it also gives me pause. “Thanks. What exactly do you do around here? You sound like you run the place.”

  Awkwardly, he scans the small room, standing next to Lily. She glances up at him, her face strewn with curiosity. It’s the same look I remember having the first day I met him. He’s odd. Not in a bad way. Strange in a way that I’m still trying to figure out.

  “Uh … No. Nothing like that, it’s just … I’m like a superintendent or something. You know, I watch over studio reservations, things like that.”

  It’s a weird answer. Superintendent? Like an apartment building? I’ve never heard of a record studio that has anything like that, but then again, this is Rich Records. Who knows how Jimmy Richards runs his business? Maybe he’s away so much he has other people look after things.

  “Okay,” I tell him. Looking over at Lily, my stomach grumbles. “Hey, Lil, I’m starving. Want to grab some burgers? Then we can come back—”

  “I got it,” Austin speaks up first. “It’s the least I can do. What do you guys like? Big Burger? In-n-Out? Charley’s?”

  “Oh, Charley’s!” Lily shouts. “A double bacon avocado burger!”

  I laugh at her response, plus the fact that my stomach grumbles again at the thought of bacon and avocado. “That does sound good. Here, let me give you some money.”

  I walk over toward the door, hearing Austin say, “No, no. I got it.”

  Waving him off, I shake my head with a smile. I exit the recording room, and walk into the mixing room.

  “Sorry, Jade,” Austin continues, “my treat. For the complete screwup that happened earlier.”

  “Austin, it wasn’t your fault. I kind of flipped out on your door guy, too. Sorry about that.”

  He laughs. “I would’ve, too. Don’t worry about it. So, two double bacon avocado burgers?”

  “Austin, seriously, let me—”

  “Not a chance,” he cuts me off, smiling. “Any fries or drinks?”

  “Pepsi,” Lily answers.

  He looks over at me, and I nod in agreement. “Great. I’ll be back in a few.”

  I watch him hurry from the room, and as soon as the door shuts, Lily swats my arm. “Okay, who is that, and why have you been keeping him a secret?”

  “Secret?” I laugh. “You know about as much as I do. His name’s Austin and he … I don’t know what he does around here, but he has some pull apparently. He was super nice the other day, showing me around the studio.”

  She sends a side-eye glance at me, smirking. “Girl, he is cute! He’s got a sort of Matthew McConaughey thing going on.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah! I mean, I don’t know if he’s rocking a six-pack under that T-shirt, but that laid-back, surfer vibe.”

  “Matthew McConaughey is from Texas.”

  “You know what I mean. What’s his deal?”

  “Lily, I’m serious. I have no idea.” She twirls in her chair, giving me a skeptical glare. All I can do is lift my shoulders at her, smiling.

  “He hurries down here when the security guy said he wasn’t coming in to make sure you’re okay? And now he’s buying you food? Jade?” She elongates my name, pinching her lips together.

  “Lily?”

  “He must have a crush on you or something.” She starts laughing, aimlessly tapping the mixing board, as she tilts her chair back and forth.

  I hold a finger up, narrowing my eyes. “Or he’s just a super nice guy. And since he works here, he knows how to take care of his clients, or whatever people are to him around here. He did help me record a snippet the other day, so he knows his way around a mixing board.”

  Bringing her hand up to her face, she eyes me carefully and taps her chin. I’m sure she’s deciding if she wants to keep prodding. “So, what are you going to do about Bret? You know that problem isn’t going to go away. How does his provisional deal work again?”

  I roll my eyes, feeling the frustration of Bret’s little stunt today all over again. “I have no idea. Something like I agree to use the studio here, and his band gets a contract for an EP. I think.”

  “Did you read the contract?”

  “Not really.”

  “Jade!” she shouts, slapping my arm. “How could you sign something and not read the contract?”

  “Because it’s Bret. Look, I know I get frustrated with him, and he does try to work every angle when it comes to his band, but he’d never do anything to screw me over. He’s just anxious to finally get a record deal for his band.”

  “Skum Bucket,” she hisses, then laughs. “Why on earth did he name his band that? What? Was Crusty Trash Cans taken?”

  For a second, I stare at her, confused and a little disturbed. Then we both unleash a gaggle of laughs. “Maybe it was, who knows. They’re a punk band, so—”

  “Oh, no. You are so not defending that name still. How many times have we gone over this? The Clash. Ramones. Hell, even The Sex Pistols. Punk bands with iconic names. You don’t get a pass over a horrible name simply because you’re a punk band.”

  I can only nod in agreement. “True. I can’t argue that. Whatever, it’s his band. And like I always say, if I can help him without acting like a prostitute, then I will.”

  She eyes me carefully. “Close enough.”

  My jaw drops. “Hey! That’s rude.”

  “Sorry.” She drops her head, picking at her cuticles. For a moment, she’s silent, then glances up at me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just wish he knew how good he has it with you. You help him a lot, Jade. Like, a lot. Too much sometimes, if you ask me.”

  “Yes, yes. I don’t ask you anymore, and you still find a way to tell me.”

  “Okay, okay.” She raises her hands. “Enough about all of that. I won’t bring it up again.” I eye her carefully. “Today.” We both giggle at her addendum. “When are you gonna start recording the next Kings’ album with the guys?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe in a couple of months. They’ve been completely cool with letting me take the time to get this stuff out. I love them. Derrik offered to sing some hooks for me if I want, and Maddox is going to lay down some drum tracks for me next week.”

  She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Oh, Maddox. How was he in Vegas? I read all about EJ, but Maddox seemed to take a backseat. No more party boy?”

  “Ha!” I throw my head back, letting out the over-exaggerated laugh. “Maddox? That boy is
probably going to be clubbing until he’s eighty. I think you didn’t read about him much because of EJ. Everyone was so caught off guard by EJ’s breakout moment during Rocket and Moon.”

  “I see the pictures he posts with Skye. They look adorable together.”

  I nod, a smile crossing my face. I love that EJ is finally happy with himself and not fretting so much of his nickname. “Yeah, they are.”

  Picking at my thumbnail, my mind wanders. Zoey and Derrik never cross my mind so much, mostly because it’s Zoey and Derrik. I didn’t know they’d end up together, but I was not surprised by that. But my mind has been crawling with my relationship with Bret ever since EJ and Skye got together. They’re cute, both involved in the music industry, and they seem happy.

  It makes me sometimes wonder why I don’t have that with Bret. Granted, he’s focused on his band, but I’m focused on the Kings. Skye focuses on her group. Tons of other artists focus on their career and still make a relationship work. Somehow, I thought no matter what happens, Bret and I would find common ground and make this thing between us work. But it feels like a struggle most of the time.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I force a smile, shaking her off.

  “What is it?”

  Staring at my fingers on the table, I don’t want to bring it up. Not because she wouldn’t understand but because I’ve been fighting off these feelings for a while. I want to be with Bret. But I’m also afraid of the thought of not being with him. I’m the Queen of Kings. I’ve never given my silly nickname much thought, but I know what it brings with it. I’m a star, and because of that, I’ve thought about how I would even date someone else, given my fame. How do other celebrities do it?

  “It’s nothing,” I finally tell Lily. She doesn’t look like she believes me, so I try to smile wider. “Seriously.”

  “If you’re not going to tell me, then I’m just going to have to assume you’re thinking about Austin.”

  “Lily!”

  “Seriously.” She starts giggling again. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “Okay, I’ll indulge you, if only to keep you from hounding on it for the next week. Nothing’s wrong with him. But, as you know, I’m with Bret.”

  “Yes, Bret the Skum Bucket.” I can’t help but laugh. “But don’t you think he’s cute? At least a little bit?”

  She holds up her thumb and finger, measuring an invisible pinch. “Of course Bret’s cute. That’s why I’m with him.”

  “First of all, no. Bret’s … okay.”

  “Lil!”

  “What? Maybe he could be cute if he didn’t always try to dress like he’s in a Misfits cover band. He has those hazel eyes, which could be incredible if he didn’t comb his hair in front of his face ninety percent of the time. You know I’m talking about Austin. Matthew McCona-Austin.” She cackles.

  “Fine, fine.” I raise my hands. “Yes, he is cute. In a sort of, dad-bod kind of way.”

  “You don’t know he has a dad bod. He could totally work out six days a week and is just incredibly reserved.”

  “I’ll give you that. Regardless, none of that matters.”

  “You just said he’s cute!” she replies.

  The door to the room swings open and in walks Austin, forcing both of our eyes to pop open. “Burgers are here!” We both exchange shocked stares. These studios are usually soundproof, so I’m praying he didn’t hear what we were talking about. “You guys are still hungry, right?”

  Quickly shooting a glance at Lily, I can feel my face redden. I deliver a sharp glare at her, trying to telepathically tell her to not say anything. I don’t think she will; she seems just as shocked as I do.

  “Uh, yeah,” I finally answer. “Starving.”

  He pulls out the cartons holding the burgers, placing one in front of me first on the table the mixing board is built into, then in front of Lily. I grab the second bag he has in front of him, pulling out the fries, and take a bite of one. “Austin … thanks again.”

  “Don’t even worry about it.” He smiles down at me. “Whatever you need, Kristen.”

  “Kristen?” Lily shoots me a look before smirking up at him.

  His stare bounces back and forth between us, and I see his grin morph into an uncomfortable smirk. “Uh … her first name.”

  Lily’s grin grows wider. “Oh, I didn’t know you two were on a first-name basis.”

  “Oh, no.” He clears his throat, then nervously averts his gaze. “I mean, it’s her alias or whatever while she’s recording here.” Glancing down at me, he looks for confirmation. “Right?” he asks

  “Exactly.” I smile back at him. Grabbing another fry, I point it at Lily. “Austin gets to call me Kristen. You still refer to me as your queen.”

  The joke breaks the tension, and Lily giggles, grabbing a fry, and throwing it at me.

  10

  Austin

  Have you ever been a part of “bring your child to work” day? When I was younger, like five or six, I thought it was the coolest thing ever. My mom’s class was fun because I was young, and it was easy to make friends when I was that age. Even as a third-grader, I saw how the class loved my mom. That might’ve been when I first thought it was cool to be a teacher.

  But the days my father actually acted like a dad and brought me to work with him were amazing. Walking into Rich Records, feeling like I’m a prince, people waiting on my father hand and foot all while being super friendly to me. Little did my elementary-age brain know they were simply kissing up to my dad. Still, at the time, it was terrific.

  Now? Not so much.

  “Feral Dive’s last album saw a forty-two percent drop in sales, Daniel,” my father tells Daniel Archibald. He’s the manager of Feral Dive, a rock band that was insanely hot eight years ago. Unfortunately, they’ve since died out, and their album sales have continued to decline.

  It’s not so much the words my dad uses. Everything he’s saying is entirely right. I read the reports on them before this meeting. “Make sure you know the numbers,” my dad’s words echo around in my brain. It’s something he harps on endlessly. Feral Dive’s first album was on the Billboard charts for sixty-five straight weeks. Their sophomore album was still on the charts, but only for three months. And it never ranked higher than nineteenth. They released their third album four months ago, and unfortunately, it bombed.

  “Jimmy, these are good kids,” Daniel retorts, his eyes jumping between my father and me.

  I’ve grown to hate being part of these meetings. They are the worst. It’s the kind where my father either cuts an artist loose, or he tells their manager they’ve got a certain amount of time to turn their sales around.

  I get that it’s all part of the business but being here feels like I’m watching a lion toy with his prey. It’s uncomfortable. My father makes sure I not only sit in on board meetings but the other not so fun stuff like this.

  “Daniel, they aren’t kids. They’re artists.”

  “They’re in their twenties, Jimmy. Yes, their last album didn’t sell well, but if we can get some kind of advertising budget, we can change things around. Their album’s been out for less than six months. You have to give them time.”

  I uncomfortably scan the elegant restaurant my father wanted to meet Daniel in. It’s not very full, and the shine from the sun illuminating through the clear windows is almost blinding. It looks out over a section of Rodeo Drive, and shoppers roam around outside, not having a care in the world. Neither do the few customers and servers inside of the restaurant. I can hear their feet tapping around on the white marble floor, and a soft saxophone piece plays over the speakers. Everyone is going about their day. Meanwhile, Daniel is pleading for the commercial life of the band he manages.

  “They’ve had time, Dan.” My father glances over at me, nodding.

  Taking a deep breath, I open the leather folder in front of me. I still haven’t figured out if he makes me do this because he wants to keep his hands clean, or he really
thinks I’m learning something from tearing apart dreams.

  For these meetings, I dress a little more formally. Not in the thousand-dollar suits my father wears, but nice black slacks and a pressed button-up, with the top button undone. Sometimes I wish I wore a tie because then I’d have something to nervously fidget with when I have to start talking. Brushing my hair away from my forehead, I point down to the paper in front of me for Daniel to see.

  “Mr. Archibald, Feral Dive’s first record sold two-point-two million. It went platinum the third month it was out, and double-platinum by the end of that year.” Handing him his own copy of my report, I continue, “But since that time, not only have the charts shown their decline but the social media relevancy rates—”

  “Jimmy, what is this?” Daniel cuts me off, staring at my father. “What does social media—”

  “Keep going, Austin,” my father orders, taking a sip of his gin and tonic.

  I swallow the nerves. “I know most management firms look at the bottom line, and of course that plays a part, Mr. Archibald. But social media is king. Celebrities like Adam Coleman and Danica Parker continue to index high on not only InstaPic, but the new music app, Tonez.”

  “Tonez?” he asks, but it’s not a question of confusion. It’s a question accompanied by a look that says he has no interest in what I’m saying.

  “Yes, sir,” I respond. “Billboard rules the charts, but if an artist, regardless of their entertainment field, doesn’t index high outside of the social media platforms, they won’t gain ground on any charts. Whether that’s Billboard, Box Office Mojo, or any other tally marker industries use as a barometer. It’s all connected. This is why artists like Lost Link and Kings of Karmichael continue to sell millions of records, and their concerts still sell out. The public talks about them constantly, and in turn, they aren’t part of the zeitgeist. They are the zeitgeist.”

  My father leans closer, interlocking his fingers in front of him over the table. Daniel doesn’t have a drink, but I have a soda. One I haven’t taken a sip from.