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***
I storm into Jail Records without even greeting Faith, who is on the phone and looks at me concerned. Her gaze follows me until I arrive at the documents stockpiled on the conference room table since Emily left three weeks ago and sit down to browse through them. It doesn’t take long to find what I’m looking for.
In the middle of the pile is the printed email with the contract attached and a post-it with Faith’s handwriting in large letters, “URGENT.” I look at the date of the email: almost three weeks ago. I flip through the contract to paragraph ten and find what Anthony was talking about. We had fifteen days to contest the contract, or it became valid by mutual agreement. It’s not standard procedure. In fact, it’s the first time I’ve seen it used, but the email explains this, and the contract as well. I can contact the lawyers, but at a glance, I’m sure that it is valid.
The sense of discomfort in my chest at this confirmation that I’ve made a colossal mistake almost hurts physically. I feel the blood drain from my face and struggle to swallow. I’m so stunned it feels like I’ve lost feeling in my fingers.
“So, is it true?” Damian’s voice startles me.
All four Jailbirds stare at me with stern looks.
“What exactly? I’m not in the mood for riddles.” My voice comes out in a shaky breath.
“Lilly has been crying for two hours because their contract has gone from four albums to eight, and you didn’t notice it.” His tone is harsh, reproaching.
I nod and look down at the document in front of me. Shame digs a hole in my chest. The worst part is that this is just the most recent big mistake I’ve made. I should have let go of the Red Velvet Curtains right away when they started to delay the album’s release. Trying to release them from that contract was a wrong choice from the beginning.
“And how the hell did you not notice?” Michael’s voice is incredulous.
And so am I. I have no idea how such an important thing eluded me. Faith definitely gave me the heads-up. She surely tried to draw my attention to such an important document because she always does, all the time. The post-it on the email is proof, but I don’t even remember having a conversation about it with her.
“Evan, you need to tell us what’s going on because we’re losing patience,” Thomas insists.
I look up at them and understand that I can’t lie anymore. Hiding behind the desire to find a solution is no longer an option. They are my friends and partners, and although it hurts, I can’t avoid giving them an explanation.
So I begin running down the situation with their contracts, the record company proposals, and my inability to close the deal. I avoid talking about Los Angeles, my father, and Emily. I can’t take their judgment on that, either. As my explanation becomes more clear, my friends’ increasingly shocked and angry faces stare back at me.
“So if we had signed, they’d only have the usual four albums, and all this mess would never have happened?” Damian asks me.
“You would have given up the rights to your music again, tying yourself forever to that record company.” I try to justify my choices, but I realize how weak my explanation is. This error of judgment weighs like a boulder on my conscience.
“Who cares! Now we don’t even have that anymore. We don’t have royalties from our old music. Do you realize how damaging this is to us? Four albums that disappear from the market overnight!” Michael is furious.
“Unbelievable,” Damian mutters, shaking his head.
“I tried to free both of you from this situation without making you sign another lousy contract,” I snap. “It’s my job to go after the best outcome in these negotiations!” I shout.
“You should have told us,” Simon speaks for the first time. His tone is harsh. “You should have let us know about the situation and let us choose. We would have gladly signed that contract because it still brought us some income. It’s four albums that we’ve worked and sweat blood on, and we won’t see another penny for.”
I have nothing more to say. I can’t even look them in the eyes. The shame is so deep I feel my cheeks go up in flames.
“Go away.” Damian’s tone is so severe that I look up at him. “Go for a ride, go home, do what you want, but I don’t want to see your face.” I swallow. It’s hard to see his disappointment. “You kept the situation hidden from us. You acted behind our backs. Youbetrayedour trust. I thought you were a friend,” he finishes before turning around and leaving, followed by the other three, who don’t even look at me.
It would have hurt less if they had ripped my heart from my chest. The pain and the disappointment on their faces are so raw that my chest is torn apart. When my eyes rest on Faith’s, I see tears filling hers. I don’t know if they are for me, for how they treated me, or because I made such a big mess that I endangered her partner’s career, but the sight of those tears is what drives me to get up from the couch and leave the record company without looking back.
The drive from the airport to Jail Records has never seemed so short as it has this morning. Aaron forbade me to go back to the office until I personally brought back the company’s computer and phone. He found out I still had them in Los Angeles. My mind has imagined dozens of conversations that could take place when I enter that office, but none of them give me peace. I don’t know if it’s the guilt of disappearing out of the blue or if I’m just nervous about seeing Evan again. Aaron gave me a loophole, offering me work and accommodation in a city thousands of miles from my problems, but I can’t run away forever and pretend my life here doesn’t exist. Twenty-three days have already gone by since I last set foot in Manhattan, and it’s time to face the inevitable. Waiting until I feel ready only makes it more difficult over time.
Evan and I don’t talk to each other anymore. Several times I grabbed my phone to call him, and every single time I put it back in my pocket because the reality is: he fired me. If he hasn’t picked up the phone seeking reconciliation, then he hasn’t yet decided to forgive me. And with every passing day, the hope that we can mend this relationship fades until it’s almost disappeared, giving space to the overwhelming and heartbreaking fear that there is nothing more to save.
When I finally find the courage to open the door, I hold my breath, expecting to be overwhelmed by my friend’s questions, but the only face I see is Faith’s, who looks surprised getting up from her desk and coming to hug me.
“What happened to you? We were so worried.” This surge of affection leaves me almost speechless. She’s never been one to show physical affection, so her gesture moves me. For the first time since I left for Los Angeles, I realize that I may have worried more than just my mother, Gabriela, or Iris. Even Faith, whom I’ve known for far less time, has been anxious for me.
“How much has Evan told you?” I grimace.
Nicholas told me he wasn’t saying much, but he’s in Los Angeles right now and doesn’t spend his days in this place. I wonder if something he’s not aware of has changed in the meantime.
“Nothing, that’s the problem. He came back, and he just said you quit. I know you argued, but can’t you just come back?” she begs, frowning and grimacing.
