“Freddie has decided he won’t sign with an indie label,” she says, and even though I saw it coming a mile away, the sting of rejection still hits me square in the chest.
“Yeah,” I manage. “I figured.”
“I love my brother, but…” She shakes her head and gestures toward the door. “I fucking hate whoever that guy is. His whole persona.”
Hard to argue that, after the display I witnessed out there. Still: “A lot of bands go through rough patches. It’s a tough transition, going from unknown artists to a group with a large fan base. Comes with a lot of pressure—”
Again, Sheridan shakes her head. “It’s been a problem from day one. I don’t know if it’s because he’s older than me, or maybe it’s just because he’s got a dick and I don’t, but I’ve always come second. I’ve always been referred to as thefemalelead singer of Dempsey, while he somehow gets to be the front man. When we’ve disagreed on album decisions, I’ve always ended up deferring to Freddie, because it’s obvious that’s what the rest of our team wanted. At least, at the label. Curtis and Ralph are a bit more diplomatic, to be fair.”
I may not be in the public eye the way Sheridan is, but I do know a thing or two about having to sacrifice control over your public perception in order to make it in the music industry. And about allowing men to dictate the terms of your own career.
“I really wanted to give you more control,” I tell her, almost as a condolence.
She sets her Coke can back down. “I know. Which is why I’d still really love the chance to work together.”
My confusion must be written all over my face, because Sheridan smiles.
“Did you mean what you said back at the brewery? About taking me on as a solo artist?”
“Uh… yeah.” My brows are just about at my hairline. “Yes. Absolutely. If that was something you wanted to pursue, then I’d definitely be interested.”
My thoughts scatter in a million directions—how I’ll pitch this to Josie, how Sher’s PR team will have to break the news of Dempsey’s split, and when to reveal she’s going solo. What her album would sound like and how I could leverage her existing fan base.
All of which is getting ahead of myself.
“Is the solo track something you want to do in addition to Dempsey, or—”
“No. I can’t be part of this band anymore. And I know that if I want to have any kind of relationship with Freddie down the line, it’s for the best. We’ll kill each other.” She pushes herself off the counter, and I stand too. “Besides, Ralph wants to start a family. He’s talked about taking a step back. Curtis said he’d play backup on my album if I needed him to.” She gives a nonchalant shrug, but I get the sense Curtis would follow her off a cliff if she asked.
While a part of me is sad that one of my favorite bands is breaking up, I have to admit this is the best possible outcome from that situation. As long as I can hold up my end of the deal.
“Full disclosure,” I say, willing myself not to seem flustered. “I’ll need to get the head of the label’s approval before I can officially offer a contract. I’ve… lost some of my sway with her this past year. And as you know, launching a solo career is a different animal than promoting an established band.”
A tiny crease forms between Sheridan’s eyebrows, but she nods seriously. “I understand. You’ll keep me posted?”
“Absolutely.”
With a parting handshake and a promise to reach out as soon as I’ve spoken to Josie, I make my way through the maze of hallways backstage, moving on autopilot until I find an exit.
Someone calls my name almost the moment I step outside.
I look up to find Adam, and have to suppress a smile at the idea that he was standing here, watching the door like a hawk waiting for me. Now that intense gaze is roaming over me, and I must still look a bit shell-shocked, because he’s wearing a frown.
“Hey,” I say as I make my way over to him. “You waited.”
“Of course.” He shrugs. “Talked to Billy, while you were in there. I, uh… cut ties with him. Professionally speaking. He’s still a friend, but… I realized I needed that separation.”
“Oh, wow.” I’m too stunned to say anything more for a moment. Admittedly, I’m pleased with this development. But that almost feels sort of mean? It was the smart thing for Adam to do, but I can’t imagine it was easy. “You okay?”
He nods. “Yeah. Had to be done.” He waves his hand, as if to wave the subject away. “What happened with Sheridan?”
I glance around. The venue isn’t in the heart of the Strip or anything, but there are still a fair amount of people milling about. The last thing I need is some kid to overhear me talking about Dempsey and start live streaming it. “Let’s get a cab.”
We head down the block to hail a taxi, and a few minutes later we’re en route back to my hotel.
“It would seem Dempsey is breaking up,” I tell him. “And Sheridan Dempsey is going solo.”
Adam’s eyebrows rise. “No shit.”
