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The pace of her breathing picks up and her cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink, visible even beneath all the stage makeup. Then her head cocks to one side. “I think you have some soul-searching to do, Isaac. Maybe you and Paris parting ways is for the best.”
I grind my teeth to stop any further words erupting, and nod, slowly. Then she turns away, leaving me to resume my duties, exactly as she pays me to.
* * *
Only fifteen minutes later,the room is full to capacity with all the people who’ve played a role in the residency, Aurelia’s family, some Starling Key staff who’ve managed to sneak in, and some exceptionally high paying guests and concert-goers. I search the crowd for Chuck and find him hanging at the back of the room, periodically scrolling through his phone, then exiting the room to talk into it. Aurelia’s mother is hovering at the front by the podium, basking in the glow of her daughter’s glory. Security personnel, including every single one of my guys, are dotted around the room. We’re unmissable in our black tuxedos, pistols discreetly hidden, earpieces fixed, eyes surveying the room. Anyone who’s anyone wanted to be inside this room, press and legal teams included, but Aurelia was unequivocal: only teams and family. And of course, the monitor.
I have no idea what she plans to do with the monitor but it is all set up and ready to go, for whatever purpose she has planned for it. Only she holds the password. I could obtain it, of course, but I have no interest in going behind Aurelia’s back. If she wants to tell me something, she knows I’m right here. Or, at least, I hope she does.
Sasha, one of Aurelia’s dancers taps a wine glass, calling the room to attention. It takes a good five minutes for everyone to pipe down and watch as Aurelia steps up onto the podium. In this moment I find it so hard to believe she’s still only nineteen, if only for ten more minutes. I look at my wristwatch. Ten minutes exactly.
“Good evening everyone,” she begins. The room replies in a chorus.
“Thank you so much for coming here tonight, I know a lot of you are exhausted and dying to get home to your families and loved ones. She smiles at her dancers and backstage team apologetically. “I won’t keep you too long.”
I watch every single person in the room. Everyone is smiling back at Aurelia, all ears, except for one person, Chuck, who continues to scroll through his phone at the back of the room. Aurelia leans forward and switches on the monitor in front of her, splitting her attention between the screen and the room.
“I wanted to take this opportunity, while all the people I care about are in this room—apart from my good friends Ana and Billy—” she looks pointedly at Chuck, unfazed by the fact he isn’t even listening, “to not only thank you all for making this residency a huge success, but to make an announcement.”
I watch her mom shift from foot to foot, obviously keen to move on so she can work the room as the star of the season’s mother.
“This was the first residency that I have done, and that Starling Key has hosted.” She nods her acknowledgment to Connor. “It was a risk for the resort and for me, but I think you’ll all agree, it was one well worth taking.” The room claps and murmurs it’s whole-hearted agreement. She continues. “As many of you know, I turn twenty years old at the stroke of midnight.”
Another cheer goes up in the room. She waits for quiet before going on.
“To most people, this is quite an uneventful birthday. I mean, eighteen was a pretty big deal, right? Nineteen? Not so much. Twenty-one is the next big birthday. The one where we can enjoy an alcoholic drink—legally!” She looks at the monitor and smiles. “But twenty… it’s not too special, is it? Well, for me it is.”
She pauses for effect and I notice that Chuck, for the first time, looks up from his phone.
“Twenty is the age I get access to the rights to all the music I’ve recorded so far. That’s a pretty big deal. My beloved grandmother—may she rest in peace—made sure the rights were held in trust until exactly five years from the release of my first single. The contract stated that at twelve zero one a.m., exactly, on the day of my twentieth birthday, all rights would transfer to Bird Holdings, Inc., the company currently operated by my manager, Chuck Bird.”
My gaze flits to her mother and, as suspected, she looks quite unhappy about Aurelia’s deliberate omission of the fact Chuck is not only her manager, he’s also her stepfather. I’m not the only one who can sense Aurelia is up to something. Something big. I look at my wristwatch. Three minutes from midnight.
“That…” she says, loudly and pointedly, “is no longer going to happen.”
There’s an audible gasp from certain sections of the gathering. Not everyone understands the significance of what Aurelia is saying, but those who do—including, I suspect, the people on her screen whom I now have no doubt are from legal and media stock—appreciate the gravitas of what she’s saying.
I feel my heart racing as Aurelia continues. I don’t know what she’s up to but I’ve never felt more proud of anyone in my life.
“Bird Holdings, Inc., as of ten minutes ago, is no longer operational. All assets, including the rights to my back catalog when they transfer, have been moved to a brand new company, Aurelia Bird, Incorporated, of which I am President, presiding over a brand new board of directors.”
My eyes flip to Chuck. He is staring at Aurelia now, pale-skinned and open-mouthed.What on earth is she up to?
“You might be wondering why I went to the trouble of creating a new company for all my assets. Well, here it is.”
Aurelia takes a deep breath and I can’t tell if she’s feeling deeply uncomfortable about what’s to follow or if she’s reveling in it. I suspect both.
“For the last four years, my stepfather and manager, Chuck Bird, has been reappropriating my earnings for his own benefit. He has purchased no fewer than nine properties inhisname usingmymoney.”
Her mom’s head swivels around, searching for Chuck, as though it’s on a stick. This is clearly news to her too.
“He has squandered my profits on luxuries that were hidden from me and the rest of my family. And worse, he had, in principle, sold the rights to all my music before they had even transferred.”
In the corner of my eye, I see a couple of Aurelia’s backing dancers rush to Aurelia’s mother who appears to have collapsed.
“Chuck Bird, I’m afraid to say, has behaved immorally, unethically and fraudulently, and is no longer a part of my business, my career, or my personal life.”
The room is completely silent, then a voice pipes up from the monitor, confirming there are reporters on the screen after all.
