shadows, and that meant something was wrong with me.
Even if everything had been right, they wouldn’t have believed it.
But maybe that was unfair of me to assume. Because it’s not like everything had ever been right with me, so how would I know?
Taylor didn’t seem to be looking to put me on a pedestal or to condemn me.
She didn’t seem to have any preconceived ideas about me. If she did, she shed them when she walked into my house, or she allowed them to fall away as she actually got to know me. She seemed to genuinely want to get to know me. Like she found me interesting, and not just because I was paying her. And not because I was some freak show.
It made me want to be a better version of myself.
Or maybe some mediocre version of myself who could offer her a regular sort of life? Dinner dates. Walks on the beach. Pillow talk.
But all I knew were the extremes.
If I wasn’t on top of the world, I was deep in the shadows.
It had always been this way.
Gabe was the only one who understood me without trying. Who kept me balanced. Who helped me navigate between the highs and the lows and stay afloat.
I stared at the old, brown leather bracelet on my wrist. Gabe’s bracelet.
I had a couple of his basses, some of his vinyl records, clothes. All kinds of things that had once belonged to him.
But the bracelet was the only one I could really stand to look at. I’d worn it until it became a part of me.
“Hey, you.” Taylor’s soft voice reached me. I realized she’d been knocking on the frame of the open door. She was standing there, looking in at me, while I’d gotten lost in my thoughts. I didn’t even hear the music playing in my ears.
I slipped the headphones off. “Hey.”
“Sorry to interrupt. We’re confirmed for two-thirty with Brick House.”
“Good.”
“That’s in less than an hour. Just wanted to give you a heads up. I’ll get us set up about five minutes early. And if there’s anything you want to go over with me first, let me know?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
She smiled and headed back out to the great room. I watched her go back to work at her laptop.
Shit. There was just something about her belief in me, the way she treated me, the way she talked to me… like I was somehow normal… that made me want to try harder.
I’d never felt like that around anyone except Gabe. Maybe Xander, on a good day on tour, onstage together; when I felt like we were in sync, like I was at my best and he wasn’t judging me. But that was it. My two best friends.
And her.
I got up and went out there, and sat down across from her, on one of the couches.
She looked up from her laptop.
“So what’s the purpose of this meeting?” I asked her.
“Uh, you didn’t give me an agenda. So… I’m not sure?” Her lips quirked.
“Venture a guess.”
“Well, Trey’s assistant mentioned something in her email about that memo he sent over to the band. You know, the one Ash tore up?” She gave me an amused, cringey look. “So, I’m guessing they want to go over that?”
“I called the meeting, though.”
“Right. So, you want to go over it? Are you planning to give them hell? Should I practice my poker face?”
“No. I wanted them to go ahead and assume that’s what I want to discuss. And it may come up, if Trey brings it up. But this conversation is to set the tone of our communication going forward. This is the first formal conversation we’re having since the band went into the studio. Contracts are all signed now, so it’ll be a different conversation than it was before. This is the part where we remind them we’ve got four artists in that studio and we’re not gonna piss all over that with whatever Trey Jones thinks will get the most likes on Instagram.”
She cocked her head at me, considering. “How do you mean?”
“Trey Jones is a pretty brilliant businessman. And he knows it. He also knows music. And the music business is a pretty different world than the world the band lives in, in the studio. The music business is where the music goes to be sold, or to die. And sadly, nowadays, it’s often a lot more about which artist has the biggest social media following, not which song is the best song.”