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Limits
Sloane
“You’re never going to believe this,” my assistant and best friend, Fiona, says from the doorway to my office. She sounds excited, which is strange for her. She’s usually as emotional as a marble statue.
I glance up from my laptop, where I’ve been busy working on grant applications for the Rhapsody Foundation mentorship program I run. “Try me,” I grumble. With some of the shit I’ve dealt with at the center, nothing surprises me anymore.
She slides into the room and takes the chair across from my desk, still reading something on her phone. “You must have your notifications off. We just got an email from the Board of Directors. It’s been announced who our secret new music mentor is.”
“What do you mean, ‘been announced?’ We always have a say in the incoming mentors since we keep track of what programs have the most need.” I already don’t like the sound of this. It’s not like the Board to interfere in how I run things here. My friend Barry, who is on the Board especially. He always works with me on these things.
Fiona shrugs her shoulders to meet her sharply cut black bob. “It’s only for the advanced guitar program. It says here, ‘In collaboration with Blackmore Records, the Rhapsody Foundation is pleased to announce our new advanced guitar mentor for the spring session will be none other than acclaimed lead guitarist Cooper Davies from the chart-topping band Murderous Crows.’” She glances up at me, her green eyes wide.
I drop my forehead onto my keyboard, not caring if I erased the entire proposal I’ve been working on. This cannot be happening.
“Please tell me you’re joking.” I peek over my screen. “Am I being recorded right now for some stupid reality show?”
“Sorry, no.” She tilts her head, her bob now lopsided and her lower lip jutting out in a fake pout. “What’s wrong with Cooper Davies? He’s freaking hot.”
She’s not wrong there. He is a bit of a Rock God, with toned muscles, a chiseled jaw, strong shoulders, and that gorgeous red hair; he’s just plain old sexy. But, to be fair, hot guys like him are a dime a dozen in L.A. It takes more than a strong jawline and six-pack to turn my head. Plus, with the recent news reports about his drug and sex scandals, I’m surprised the Board wants him associated with Rhapsody.
“Do they not read the gossip rags? Or any social media, for that matter? How could they possibly think this is good for us?” My mind starts racing with ideas of how badly this could go. “We might lose donors over this if we’re associated with him. What the hell are they thinking?” I glance at my screen and grant application, wondering if I should even bother finishing it. We most likely will be turned down now. I slam the lid shut in frustration. The more I think about it, the worse it feels. This could be disastrous.
“That’s the interesting part.”
“Wait, there’s more?” Good God, not more.
“‘Blackmore Records is also making a significant donation to the Rhapsody Foundation to continue its valiant mission of introducing music to L.A.’s vulnerable inner-city youth.’”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s just a coincidence,” I mutter with heavy sarcasm. This is unbelievable.
Fiona shuts her phone off and stares at me, a dark eyebrow lifting in question. “So, what are you going to do?”
I stare right back. “That was a press release, wasn’t it?” The knot in my stomach tightens as it dawns on me how horrible this will be.
“Yep. It sure was.”
“Well then, there isn’t much I can do, is there?”
“Nope.”
I nod, letting the reality of it settle in. We’ve had star mentors before, but it’s typically been hush-hush since they were volunteering out of the goodness of their hearts. Like Ryan Crawford last year. This is very different. This is clearly a rep clean-up attempt. We’ve had a few of those, too, and they haven’t ended well.
“This is all just a publicity stunt for Blackmore and Murderous Crows. Chances are, he’ll show up for one or two sessions, then the paparazzi will get bored and go away, and so will he.” In the back of my mind, I doubt he even lasts that long. Guys like him don’t do charity.
“But then, what will we do for a guitar mentor?” The crease between Fiona’s brows deepens with concern, making me more uneasy. This is not what I wanted to be dealing with today.
I sigh. The thought of asking someone to be relegated to a backup mentor rubs me the wrong way, just like it will for whoever we ask. We have a few people who don’t mind filling in occasionally, but not for an entire session. And if Cooper only shows up for one or two classes, that will leave weeks with nobody to teach the kids.
“Do a standard reach out to our regular subs and see what everyone’s availability is. If we have to, we’ll rotate through everybody as best we can to finish the spring session.” I raise the lid to my laptop again, hardening my resolve to get more grant money so we don’t have to go through things like this. I’ve been pushing to permanently hire at least one advanced guitar teacher but keep getting denied because of budget restraints. “My concern is only for the students. They need stability, even if it’s just from a music teacher after school. Publicity stunts like this that only try to improve the image of some off-the-rails rockstar are not what we’re here for. Famous or not, he’s going to learn that real quick.”
“Oh boy,” Fiona says. She’s got a wicked grin spreading on her face. “I know that look. Cooper Davies is about to have a rude awakening.”
I wave her off and glare at her as she gets up to leave, but I also can’t help the twitch of my lips at her words about Cooper. I’m not a hard ass, but I do care about my students. The kids that come to Rhapsody are usually from broken homes with only one adult in their lives, and that person isn’t always a parent either. It’s not uncommon for them to have nobody take an interest in their hobbies or even care what happens to them. They rely on the programs here to escape for a little while and lose themselves in cultivating a passion.
I’ve been the Music Director here for only four years, and my former connections in the industry got me this job in the first place, so I know how the publicity machine works. I am well aware of how it uses programs like ours to try to buff and polish images of people who can’t handle the fame and then throw money at the messes they leave behind in their wake. The entire music industry is only interested in keeping their cash cows producing, no matter what it does to the artist. And once they get what they need from you, they spit you out.
Murderous Crows, specifically Cooper Davies, is just the latest cog in that machine, getting ground and churned until there’s nothing left. He’s still at the beginning of that cycle, so he gets special treatment for now. He gets the kid gloves.
