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Not only had Saint gotten his fans to boycott Saint Records and not download, purchase, or stream his music, but the rest of the artists under the label were getting their fans to do the same thing too.
Three days ago, Saint had met up with a few artists, entertainment lawyers, and managers who had pure intentions. They decided to create a consulting firm for upcoming artists to ensure those coming into the game wouldn’t be taken advantage of like Saint and so many other artists. Along with providing legal services, the firm would also negotiate deals and distribution rights.
While Saint was honored to be a part of the firm, he made it clear that it wouldn’t be his main priority. The arts community center was still at the top of his priority list, and he’d also met with several business owners to have his alcohol stocked in their establishments. He’d been keeping busy since he was out of the studio, and the one good thing about that was having the freedom to devote his time and attention to other things. At one point, his career as a rapper was all consuming, and now, it felt as if Saint was becoming a new man.
The announcement was made last night, and all day, he’d gotten call after call from people who wanted to be included in any way they could. Saint didn’t want to answer Dontae’s call, but he knew if he let it go to voicemail, that would be yet one more that he’d have to return later on top of several emails and text messages.
“Wassup, Dontae?”
“Just wanted to warn you. Tristan called an emergency meeting this morning because of everything that’s going on. She’s threatening to withhold payment for any rappers or singers telling fans not to purchase their music. I’m not sure if she’s told you or not, but she said she’s meeting with her legal team at the end of the week to discuss lawsuits for breach of contract. Apparently there’s a clause in the contracts that says we have to promote our shit and telling fans not to support it goes against that.”
“Yeah, there is, but that clause is specifically for new projects. Legally, she has no grounds to sue any of us. She’s just saying that to scare y’all and make y’all stop.”
“Good to know.”
“And I appreciate you looking out. She doesn’t have my new number to call and threaten me with that bullshit, but I’m sure she’ll be sending it to my people soon enough.”
“No doubt. One last thing—me and a few other people have been looking into ways to get out of our contract. Honestly, the way she did you ain’t a good look. If she does her own husband like that, ain’t no telling what she’ll do to us. If we do find a way to get out, there’s a clause that says we can’t sign to another label for five years or release any independent songs. I noticed something and I was wondering if I’m onto something here.”
“What is it?” Saint asked, standing and giving Harmony a quick kiss on the forehead before heading outside the restaurant. He’d rented out the Majestic Grill so they could have a private dinner with a movie on the large projector screen.
“For all the stipulations I found, it specifies they are for the solo artist listed on the contract, then it says my name.”
“Right,” Saint agreed with a nod.
“There’s nothing in the contract that says we can’t record or perform as a group.” Saint’s movements stopped as shock filled him. “I could be oversimplifying this but…”
“No.” Saint chuckled with a shake of his head as he began to pace. He ran his hand down his chin. “You’re absolutely right. When we first started out, Tristan didn’t want to manage any groups, so she had our contracts drawn up to specify they were for solo artists. The agreements that y’all signed won’t apply if you were to join a group. So yeah, get the fuck out them contracts and start a group. Even if it’s just by name and y’all have individual songs, that’s the way around it. You’ll be able to keep all your profit too.”
Dontae chuckled before releasing a sigh of relief. “I’m so fucking happy to hear that.”
“Listen, I’m glad your smart ass caught it. That completely slipped my mind.”
“Does this help you out too?”
“In some ways. I could use this to my advantage when it pertains to new music, but my distribution deals and masters would still belong to her for the next ten years.”
“Well, that’s better than nothing, right? If you can come up with a group, at least you’d be able to start recording and performing again.”
Saint’s eyes watered as he looked toward the sky. He released a shaky breath and rubbed his nose before replying.
“Yeah. I ’preciate you calling and looking out, Dontae. For real.”
“If you want to thank me, find a way to start your own label so me and the team can join. Even with our freedom, we don’t have the funds or following to do this on our own. As fucked up as Tristan is, we need the backing.”
Saint nodded, clenching his jaw. “Say less. I got you.”
“Aight, bet.”
After disconnecting the call, Saint’s head flung back as his tears threatened to pour. He released a long breath, squatting down as his head hung. When he was sure his tears wouldn’t fall, Saint headed back into the restaurant. For the last two months almost, Saint had been trying to force himself to let go of the very thing that had identified him for so long, and now, he finally had a way to get that identity back. Did he want to have to go through the hassle of finding other rappers he felt comfortable enough tying himself to? No, but if that was what he would have to do to make his music again, he would do that.
Instead of sitting next to Harmony, Saint kneeled before her. Even with the constant interruptions, she maintained her laidback, loving attitude.
“What’s up, sweet thang?”
“That was Dontae. He brought up something not even my attorney caught.”
“Which was?”
