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My eyes eventually slow and then they grind to a complete halt when I see an email from Empress Records. I don’t immediately recognize the name, but the subject line reads–Cold Neptune/Goodbye NY interest enquiry–and my heart stops beating altogether in my chest.
It literally stops beating.
I think I’m going to faint again. Or maybe I’ve just forgotten how to breathe. My mouth is hanging open so wide I swear it’s gone as dry as a bone.
I open the email, and my eyes scroll down over the two short paragraphs contained within. It’s from a man named Nick Dundas from Euphoria Management, on behalf of Empress Records, and he says he’s seen my YouTube videos and is very interested in speaking to me in regard to the upcoming Goodbye NY concert being held in two weeks at the Clovelly Theatre. They’re looking for a support act. A one-off performance. A set, maybe four songs long. No further commitment.
My eyes flick up toward Reed, but his expression is unfathomable as he stares back at me, so I look back down at the screen again.
There’s a list of dates, a phone number and an email address where he can be contacted if it’s something I’d be interested in looking into further.
Holy crap!
I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I read the entire email a second time, and then a third time as well, just to be sure, before I glance up from my phone again and meet Reed’s intense stare.
“Well,” he finally says. “What do you think?”
I’m not sure I can even speak yet, let alone think, that’s how shocked I am. If Reed expects me to respond to him, he’s fucking delusional.
“I… uh, I can’t… how? Is it real?”
“It’s real, Tink.”
I look up into Reed’s deep blue eyes again, and for a moment, I let myself get lost in the dreaminess of the alluring color and the way they hold me captive with just one look.
But it’s in that moment that reality comes crashing down around me, and I find myself sheltering from the debris. I came to New York to try and make a name for myself, and I mean that,myself. I refuse to accept handouts, and I won’t take something I haven’t earned off my own back.
“What did you do, Reed?”
He shrugs. “Nothing.”
My head falls to one side, and I just stare blankly at him.
“Okay, yes, I might have shown Nick some of your videos –“
“Reed!” I protest vehemently.
He shakes his head, hands waving wildly in front of me. “No. Listen,” he says. “Nick had a stack of other videos he was looking at as well. He’d actually already booked a band from Chicago, but there was a clash of schedules or something, so they turned him down. When he started looking again, I threw your name in the mix, and I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure if he’d think you were a good fit with the band, especially given your history with me. But ultimately, the decision was his.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“And how do you feel about it?”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I had a problem.”
“Are you sure?”
I don’t know what else to say. I’m still a little shell-shocked.
“I’m sure, Tink,” he says. “Nick thinks your sound will be a nice contrast with our heavier rock stuff. He can be a bit of a dick sometimes, but he knows his stuff. If you like what you see in the contract, you’d be rehearsing with us as early as next week. You’d have to sign a non-disclosure contract, of course. And most likely a shitload of other contracts too, for that matter. It’s only four songs, and the money isn’t going to be enormous, but it could be a really good stepping stone to bigger and better things. If that’s what you want, of course?”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I say under my breath, staring down at my phone. My hands are shaking. “Yes, this is what I want,” I whisper, biting my bottom lip. “Promise me you didn’t have any pull on the final decision.”
“Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know, Reed. Why would you do that?”
