It took Lucas a few seconds to realize Mr. Abelman was addressing him and not his dad.
“I’m not trying to coerce you into signing something you’re unsure of. Take your time and think it over. You have 10 days to make a decision.” Mr. Abelman pushed back off his desk and stood up. “Get your head on straight, kid. You don’t want to pass up this offer.” Then he marched out of his office without another word to anyone.
The second the door closed everyone bombarded Lucas. Tessa and Mason asked him if he lost his mind and if he was crazy. His dad told him it was normal to be nervous and get stressed by expectations that the label put upon him, but he’d see things more clearly in the morning. Jimmy, Mason’s dad, told Lucas he needed to take a few deep breaths and relax. Lucas’ mom and Mason’s mom said he was worrying too much and shouldn’t make any hasty decisions. Lucas knew none of it was true, and he resented everyone ganging up on him. Everyone except Papi, who stood behind Lucas’ chair and placed protective hands on Lucas’ shoulders.
“Everyone just calm down.” Papi’s voice rose above everyone else’s. “Give my boy a minute. I know you mean well, but you’re badgering him. You’re putting too much pressure on him. Can’t you see he’s upset?”
Lucas wiped his palms on his jeans. “Is 10 days really that big of a deal?”
Tessa spoke up right away. “Yes. It is. When you’re waiting for something your whole life, and it’s finally right in front of you and then snatched away, yes, 10 days is a big deal. Why don’t you see that?”
“What’s your plan, Lucas?” Mason asked. “Do you want to go to another label to see what we’re worth? To see if we’re marketable?”
It was a smart suggestion, one Lucas hadn’t thought of. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Lucas’ dad leaned against the mahogany desk to face him. “I think that’s foolish. It seems like a waste of time. You have a generous offer in front of you right now. Falcon Records has been waiting to sign Prodigy for years.” He paused. “Let’s talk in private.”
“No, Dad. I’m sorry.”
Lucas’ dad shrunk back, hurt at the rejection, and it fucking killed him. He couldn’t tell his father that he was tired of always being compared to the man and never living up to his reputation. He blinked several times as realization hit him hard, as if someone just slapped him across the face. He didn’t know he was bitter because he wasn’t as good as his father, and he felt ugly for it. He needed to work through his shit – shit that he didn’t even know was gnawing at the back of his mind – and he wanted out of Mr. Abelman’s office. “Let’s just go home.”
Mason stood first. “You’re killing me, man. But I hear ya. There’s no reason to hash this out here.”
The awkward silence in the car on the way home left a knot in Lucas’ stomach, and he wished he and Tessa didn’t grab a ride into the City with their parents. Tessa stared out the window, not making eye contact. Lucas’ parents were bewildered and probably didn’t know what to say at this point, so they didn’t say anything. Not even to each other.
As the road glided by, Lucas had time to sort through some of the troubled thoughts clouding his head. He realized that he started doubting himself after his break up with Holly. The way it went down left him questioning how people viewed him. Did they look at him and see a young musician on the rise, or did they see Tommy Blade’s clone, a second coming of one of the greatest guitarists in the world? And what happened when he didn’t live up to his father’s legendary reputation? Lucas knew he was a gifted guitar player, but he’d never be as good as his dad. People put so much pressure on him with their preconceived expectations, and sometimes it was overwhelming.
When he got home, he disappeared into his suite and texted Mason. Less than a half hour later, his best friend paced in front of him.
“What the hell was all that about?” Mason asked.
Lucas stared at his best friend as he prepared to voice his innermost thoughts. Thoughts that gnawed at him, but also left him guilt-ridden. “Sometimes I feel like I’m living in my father’s shadow. Like everyone expects me to be just like the great Tommy Blade. It’s a lot of pressure sometimes. I just want to be recognized for me.”
Mason clapped his hand on Lucas’ shoulder and gave him a little shake. “Relax, man. You’re thinking too much. It’s not like that.”
“Didn’t you ever feel like you’re living in your father’s shadow?”
“Not at all. My father mentored me. I inherited my talent from him. Just like he inherited his talent from his father.”
There was one key difference. Mason was a better drummer than his father. And Jimmy Wilder was a better drummer thanhisfather. They were three generations of excellence, one better than the other, and Lucas knew the world expected the same from him. He honestly didn’t know if he could live up to the expectations.
Tessa knocked and stuck her head in the room. “Am I included in this discussion or is it guys only?”
“I texted you, remember?” Lucas waved her inside and waited for her to sit down. “How do you feel about Falcon Records trying to sell us off as another Immortal Angel?”
“I don’t see it that way at all. I see it as capitalizing on an already lucrative commodity.”
Frustrated, Lucas pushed his fingers through his hair. “They want to change your name to Blade Garcia, for Christ’s sake!”
“I think it’s awesome.” Her shoulders straightened and her face lit up. “My middle name is badass!”
“You’re really going to use that name?” Lucas questioned. He hated that his sister wasn’t supporting him and that she was enamored by Mr. Abelman’s suggestions, even though he had to admit that Blade Garcia was a great stage name.
Mason picked up a length of Tessa’s long hair. “What about your hair? You’re not really going to dye it hot pink, are you? It’s too beautiful. I love how dark it is. Almost black, but not quite.”
She smiled at Mason. “I’m not dying my hair. And I’m not changing my name either. I thought about it, but I’m Tessa.”
“Mr. Abelman wants to make us into our parents.” Lucas rubbed his forehead, still frustrated that Tessa wasn’t upset by Falcon Records’ expectations. “Why doesn’t that bother you?”
