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“He’s all yours.” She winks at her.
“I feel objectified.” I tease, pretending to be offended and letting the heaviness of this moment slip away, leaving room for only positive thoughts tonight.
They both laugh, but I can see they’re still keeping an eye on me.
“It’s almost midnight. They’re preparing for the countdown of the launch of the albums. They asked me if you want to join them.” Emily’s tone is hesitant.
I prefer staying behind the scenes. I’m not used to being in the spotlight, even if my old friends are next to me. Damian beckons me to join them, and nervousness begins to creep into my stomach. I walk until I’m among the guests, in the front row, to watch their new success. Beside me, Emily squeezes my hand, aware of my emotions.
Damian grabs a microphone for the obligatory speech suiting these occasions, and as soon as I see him smirk as he catches my eye, I raise an eyebrow, silently requesting an explanation. But Damian, flying by the seat of his pants, as usual, grabs my arm and drags me to the other side of the barrier, next to them, in front of all the guests. The spotlight is on me.
“Tonight, I should talk about how exciting this moment is, how we came to do something great. I should tell you about how we went from juvie to opening our own record company and brag about how we’re the best at everything.” The chuckles from the audience are encouraging but don’t help me relax. “But that’s not the speech we want to make. There’s someone who managed years ago to pull us out of the crap we were in and helped us make every career leap that got us here today.
“He pushed us to grow, kicked us when we were being idiots, protected us when we were most vulnerable. We would be nobody if he hadn’t been working behind the scenes day and night all these years—to lead us and pave the way for us to get here. He’s our manager, our friend, and part of our family. He’s the only reason we’re celebrating the launch of four albums in their new form tonight. This night is for you, Evan. You do the hard work. We’re just the face of what you’ve built. Thank you, man.”
The lump in my throat as Damian and the others surround me in a hug is hard to swallow. There is applause, the countdown, the music pumping, but my heart is beating so fiercely in my chest it drowns out any noise.
“I’ll tell you straight up, if you’re going to kneel before me and ask me to marry you— you’re not my type.” I tease him, unable to formulate a decent thank you. For the first time, the words I want to say don’t do justice to the emotions I’m feeling.
I’ve always been the one on the sidelines. Managing my emotions in the spotlight doesn’t work well for me, especially since I didn’t know I needed to hear these words until Damian spoke them. I never told them this, but that day I went to the wrong place and found them, yes, I saved them, but they saved me when I believed I was worth nothing without my family’s money.
That day my entire life changed with the band’s, and, somehow, it became impossible to unravel the threads of our lives. They never excluded me, they made me feel as if I was part of the band, as if it was obvious that I was part of their family. From that day on, I truly began to live.
The drive from the airport to the record company is quiet but free of tension. Emma has been glued to Max’s car window since we got off the plane. I picked her up at her home, keeping the promise to her mother that I would accompany her every step of the way. There were tears, reassurances, and threats against me, but otherwise, the move went smoothly.
Emma is a smart girl. She doesn’t need much hand-holding. During these months of preparing for her relocation, she’s been the perfect client, doing everything we ask her without objections but asking for explanations at every step. The first thing she did when she received her first check was open an investment fund for the future. What nineteen-year-old does that? If I had that money at her age, I probably would have spent all of it on shoes, bags, clothes, and traveling.
I understand her parents’ concern—it’s the first time she’s lived out of state, thousands of miles from her family, and in New York, no less, but I’m pretty sure she’ll be one of my easiest clients to manage.
“So, what does New York look like to you?” I ask when we finally get out of the car.
She looks at me with wide eyes and surprise painted on her face. I hope she can maintain this innocence when she begins to taste what the world has to offer.
“I know it’s going to sound stupid, but it’s just like in the movies. I mean, I grew up watching shows set here, and it’s like I already knew it a little bit.” She smiles as she helps Max pull her bags out of the trunk. I notice the surprise on the driver’s face when he tries to tell her it’s not necessary, but she reassures him with a smile. Her natural desire to help others makes her unlike a lot of other young artists.
“It’s not stupid at all. You’ll fit right in, learn to love this city, and never want to leave.” I guide her to the record company entrance.
“Don’t tell my parents, or they’ll come and pick me up immediately,” she sighs as we walk through the garden.
I smile as I open the door and ask Max to take her luggage to the top floor. As soon as we enter, she is immediately greeted by Faith’s smile, a hug from Iris, and all the Jailbirds, including Evan, standing at the reception desk. They turn in unison as soon as they hear us and flash their best smiles to welcome her. They look like a dentist advertisement.
I turn to Emma and struggle to hold back a giggle. I don’t think she’s breathing. Her lips are paralyzed in a grimace of disbelief and surprise, her eyes wide, and she’s so pale I’m afraid she’s going to faint on the spot.
“Should we call an ambulance?” Damian asks worriedly.
“Can you move?” I ask her, taking her by the arm and turning her toward me.
She nods furiously but doesn’t say a word. The Jailbirds have struck again. Too bad this time it gets in the way of my job.
“Okay, good. How about we postpone the meeting with them until you can breathe again, yes?” I smile at her. “They’ll be your producers, and sooner or later, you’ll have to talk to them. You know that, right?” I wink at her as she nods so violently I’m afraid she’ll hurt her neck.
I turn to the Jailbirds, who are watching us with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “This is Emma. Treat her well, and don’t scare her away as soon as she enters the studio, okay?”
This is the usual reaction they get when meeting younger fans who are too shy to speak, much less ask for an autograph. I’m curious to see what the next few days will be like for her, if she can regain her ability to speak or if I’ll have to find an alternative producer for her album.
“Come, I’ll take you upstairs to your apartment, so you recover from the trip and have time to settle in without any more surprises.” Iris takes her by the arm and leads her to the elevator.
When they disappear behind the doors, I approach Evan and hug his waist before gently kissing him. “I missed you,” I whisper.
