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30
Austin
Things have fallen back into a regular routine. I’ve given up trying to contact Jade, but I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that she’ll forever believe I deliberately tried to play her and that I was working with my father.
Walking into Rich Records, I find Shawn sitting at attention, much more rigid than usual. He doesn’t even greet me. Instead of a humorous shot or acting like a fool, he simply raises his eyes and types my name into the computer at the front desk—a log sheet he’s supposed to always keep up to date but hardly ever does. Usually, he’ll try to remember the few people who came in and write their names down quickly before he clocks out.
I chuckle to myself. “You okay?”
Giving me a quick nod, he glances over his shoulder. I follow his line of sight, only to see the double doors leading toward the hallways to other offices in the building. “Your dad is here.”
I jerk my head back, shocked. “What? He’s supposed to be out of the country.”
“I guess he was, but he came in earlier with Landry Johnson.”
“Whoa,” I reply, truly surprised. Landry Johnson is one of the most sought-after producers in the industry. “I’ve seen the books; we don’t have any high-profile talent coming in for at least a month.” Shawn shrugs. “What studio are they in?”
He opens up a window on the computer. “Studio Four.”
Nodding, I head through the double doors and make my way toward the studio. The curiosity begins to build, unsure what they could be working on. My father rarely goes into the studios anymore, he leaves that for the producers and managers. It makes me wonder if something has piqued my dad’s interest in music for the first time in years. It’d be amazing to see him take an interest in the creation aspect after all of this time.
Walking into the mixing room of Studio Four, I find Landry sitting behind the desk, and I hear a snappy snare drumbeat playing over the speakers. My father stands to his side, and when he sees me come in, he smiles. Waving me over, Landry eyes me for a moment, then returns his attention back to the mixing board.
“I like this,” my dad tells him. Landry lowers the music. “Landry, this is my son, Austin.”
Offering him my hand, he shakes it, smiling. “Nice to meet you. Your dad speaks highly of you.”
“Oh … thank you.” My gaze returns to my father. “What’s going on?”
“Austin, listen to this,” my dad tells me, smiling wider. It really is a bit startling. He looks like he’s enjoying this.
“Okay?”
He nods to Landry, who puts the volume back up. The snare drums continue to play, then they lower, and a soft guitar starts playing. “Wow,” I respond, impressed. “That sounds great.”
“I was speaking to Landry yesterday, and he was able to squeeze today in. He’s been working with us on a few songs and really thinks we can capitalize on this.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, cocking my head to the side, confused. Then I hear the lyrics.
My head snaps over toward the small, empty recording studio. No one is in there singing, but I hear the words. The voice. It’s one of Jade’s songs. Looking back at my dad, his smile stays in place. “What are you doing?”
“I thought none of this would be useable. I figured we might be able to release some kind of demo sessions album in the future before the Kings’ hype has died down a bit, but I figured it wouldn’t make much. None of the vocals are very clean.”
“I know that,” I respond, almost indignant. “She wasn’t recording this stuff to release it. Dad, you can’t put this out as a record.”
He gazes at me like he doesn’t recognize me. “Of course I can. And I will.”
“It’s really not a problem,” Landry chimes in. “I’ve worked with a ton of artists and partially recorded songs, or stuff they were just toying around with. After lacing in some drum tracks, and bringing in backup singers, we can make it sound perfect. I’ve already been in contact with—”
“No. No, you guys, we can’t do this.” My dad continues to look at me, unsure, and now Landry gives me a blank stare. “This is her music. We can’t put this out.”
A moment passes in silence, and then my father erupts in a laugh. “Austin, what are you talking about? She recorded this with our company. We own the rights. We can do whatever we want with it.”
“No,” I snap at him. “She didn’t even know she was giving you the rights to her music. You played her.”
His mood instantly shifts. Landry eyes me for a second, before turning back to my father. “Can you give us a minute, Landry?” my dad says, never taking his eyes off of me.
When he leaves us alone in the room, my father stands up straighter. The jovial mood he had only moments ago is gone, replaced with his usual businesslike demeanor.
