AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Of course, I was grateful for my success. I was grateful for the life I hadbecauseof my success. Knowing people cared about the music I made and cared enough to buy tickets to see me perform, or bought my albums was a blessing that I could never repay, no matter how hard I tried.
But Iwantedto repay my fans. I wanted to repay them with good music that was worth listening to, that was worth buying a ticket to hear. I didn’t want to act like other celebrities - simply doing nothing and taking for granted everything they were lucky to have.
That wasn’t me. I never wanted it to be me. Over the years, I had conditioned myself to detest that kind of thinking.
That was why a massive weight settled on my shoulders as I was slumped at a table in the studio, a blank piece of paper in my notebook and a ballpoint pen mocking me. I hadn’t been able to write anything.
Jackson was playing with some beats and sounds that he wanted to use for the next album. But everything was stalled until I could find some goddamn words worth writing.
“I’m stuck,” I finally said out loud with a sigh, gently throwing the notebook to the side and pushing the piece of paper away from me. “I don’t know. I just don’t have any inside my stupid fucking head. My stupid fucking empty head.”
Jackson hummed, still playing random sound bytes. If I didn’t know him so well, I’d have thought he was ignoring me, but I knew Jackson processed pretty much any information that came his way through sound.
He played some strings that sounded haunting and brilliant, but it wasn’t enough to stir any inspiration inside of me.
“Well,” Jackson finally said, thoughtfully, turning toward me. “Itisyour fifth album, Damian. With everything going on now, it would be surprising if your creative flow worked the same as it had for your debut album. These things change. Artists’ processes change.” He seemed completely unbothered by my creative block, with full trust in his knowledge that I still had something to give.
But it was a completely different time when I was just getting started. That was more than a half-decade ago, and I was a different version of myself. Younger, sure, but also wilder, and more adventurous.
Not only did I have a vision for what I wanted to put out in the world, but I had the drive to put hard work into achieving the vision. I was sure it was because I had a strong desire for success back then. The big difference between now and then was that then, Ineededto succeed. Goddamn rent nearly did me in every month.
Now…well, I had succeeded.
All I really had to do now was not screw it all up and keep my career afloat. Or else start selling T-shirts, beer can cozies and other memorabilia that I could monetize.
I let out a deep sigh, staring at the paper on the other side of the table.
“Yeah, well, 25-year-old me had a different mindset.” I grabbed the pen and started clicking it.
Jackson chuckled.
“You know what you need to do. Don’t overthink it, man.”
I nodded absently. Sure, I just needed to not overthink…a lot easier said than done. My mind kept drifting to my face on an oven mitt.
“And you can always justnotrelease an album, you know? You do call the shots after all,” Jackson added, breaking me out of my daydream of what other merchandise I could peddle.
Of course, I’d thought about that option. There was no real reason to, except that I wanted to release a new album. I mean, in today’s world of streaming, I didn’t even need an album. I had a recording studio at my disposal and could just release new singles as inspiration struck. I didn’t need to be doing any of this, but…
“No.” I pulled the notebook back to me, staring at it with new determination. I flipped the broken and battered spine to the next blank page. “I just…I just need a little jumpstart. You know?”
Jackson stood up with lightning speed, twirling around the room, a wide smile plastered on his face. He raised his hand to the ceiling as if summoning the heavens.
“Can the universe please hear Damian Apollo’s plea? Provide him with the jumpstart he needs for the benefit of all humankind.”
His voice boomed in the room, making my ears ring.
But Jackson’s antics worked. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at his melodramatics.
“As if the universe just grants wishes? I’m not sure it works like that, buddy,” I said through the laughter.
Jackson turned, ready to debate me, when a knock on the door interrupted us.
Chapter 4
Thalia
ItwasthemomentI had been dreading. I woke up in a cold sweat of anticipation this morning, knowing I would end up in front of this door.
