AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What does it matter?”
“I want to know.”
“Why? It’s doesn’t have any merit. You want to be my hero, Jaah. Save me from the world, from myself. I don’t need that. Let today be today, remember. That’s the deal we made. You can go back to your life and I can go back to mine.”
“Stop fucking dismissing me like I don’t mean shit to you.” His tone was stormy but clearly he was attempting to keep his voice as even as possible.
“I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I want the truth. How did you end up in New York?”
I chewed the corner of my lip thinking, processing. What did it matter if I told him everything? This… whatever we were was temporary. He’d already read the article. It wasn’t like I needed to hide. Not from him. I hadn’t done anything wrong and after I told him, he could leave and get back to his life.
“My mom died when I was sixteen.”
“In her sleep. I remember.”
“She was my world and pretty much all I had left. I lost a sense of myself. I was searching for something, anything to make me feel things. Music was that before she died and so I thought maybe if I can make something of that then I would be okay. I could feel again. I saw this submission online for Global Records. I submitted videos and made it to the final rounds but in order to be selected I had to go to New York. I bought a plane ticket and left. Val and Del didn’t want me to go. They knew I was spiraling but they also supported me because my mind was made up and they couldn’t stop me.” I exhaled a shaky breath. “I got there and sat in the offices of Global, young and stupid, not having a clue what I was getting myself into. New York was…” I sighed. “Not Coleman. It was a lot. Busy and crowded and overwhelming.”
“And you were alone.”
I nodded. “At first, yeah. But Dresden Malloy took me on. I wasn’t the one they selected for the contract and was going to head home but he convinced me to stay. Said that if I trusted him and gave him time he could make sure I got my contract.”
Blazing eyes cut through me, ignited with accusation. “So you stayed.”
“Yeah. It was cool at first. I was in and out of studios with most of Global’s artists. I was good with words so songwriting was like breathing. They let me collab with them or just write their songs altogether. I was right where I wanted to be. Feeling again, happy. My dream was happening.”
“So what changed?”
“Dresden changed. Every time I asked about my contact. He brushed it off. Said I had to pay my dues, wait my turn. I had a small apartment that Global paid for. It wasn’t much but it was mine. I had money, spent time in the studio but only ever working with other artists. Never my own stuff. I was starting to get annoyed and I wanted out. I went to the label and tried to talk to them on my own but that didn’t end well.”
“What happened?”
“They laughed at me. Told me that they weren’t paying for my apartment and living expenses. Dresden was. I was his problem not theirs. They had never promised a contract and wouldn’t.”
“He lied.”
“Yeah, he lied.”
“He paid for your apartment, gave you money, that’s all it was…”
Or were you sleeping with him?
I could see it in his eyes. I wasn’t ashamed then or now.
“At first, yes. He was smart. I was sixteen. He wouldn’t touch me then. But when I turned eighteen, things with us changed. I was dependent on him. I needed him. He made sure of it. He gave me just enough to keep me believing my time would come but not enough to ever give me what I truly wanted. I wrote songs for his artists. I got paid for them, so I thought just a little more time. Someone will see that I have what it takes. Sixteen turned to eighteen and eighteen turned to twenty. By then I was over it. Four years, nothing changed. Nothing was going to change. I wanted out. Dresden begged me for one last chance. The Global Records Grammy party was what he’d negotiated with. He said I could talk to anyone I wanted. He wouldn’t get in the way. If I wanted my chance, I needed to be there. Global wouldn’t sign me but someone would. I had song credits. My writing was good. Songs I wrote were on the charts.”
“And you believed him.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“That night, I learned the truth about what was really happening behind the scenes. I hadn’t gotten credit for the songs I’d written. My name wasn’t listed anywhere.”
“But you said you got paid?”
“I did, from Dresden. It was always deposited to my account. Never saw any checks. I was so angry. So damn angry that he used me but angrier with myself.Iallowed him to use me. So yeah, I drank that night. A lot. And then I lost it. Starting telling anyone that would listen that Dresden had fucked me over. That I had written all those songs and never got credit for them.”
“And then what?”
