Page 4 of Stage Smart

“I’m sure we can do that,” I say as evenly as possible. “If we can get you an advance, you’ll accept ten per song?” I ask Val. That’s not a huge payout, but if we do the entire album, that’s… I quickly run through the list of tracks in my head. “Okay, well, if there are twelve songs, that’s one-twenty, right? So maybe we can do half up front? What about sixty?”

“You… you want to pay me sixty?” he says, still looking uncertain.

“Sixty thousand dollars, yes. Then the rest after we complete the project.”

I hold my breath while he and Nash exchange a long look. I can’t be sure, but it seems like their expressions are moving in my favor.

Please, please, please say that’s okay.

I hadn’t even realized how much I wanted this—needed it—until this moment. My career has always been more about the business than the music, even though that’s not what I wanted. I just never thought it could be the other way around, and neither had anyone else.

Until now.

Until this stranger heard something no one else could.

Please, Val. Give me a chance.

“I… um… think that would be okay,” he says.

“Really? Eek!” I clasp my hands together—mostly to keep from tackling him and scaring him away. “Perfect. Then let’s get started. I had this idea for the intro. You know how you had that cello? What if we make it more of a full orchestra sound so it will really be dramatic when the guitars come in?”

Val’s smile erases any lingering doubts. He sees my vision immediately, and suddenly, I see more than a new direction for my music. These ideas came from somewhere inside me, plucked from a newly discovered treasure trove of creativity buried beneath years of being forced into a mold. Maybe there’s a whole other piece of myself waiting to be freed and explored.

“Yes, and I know exactly which one to use,” he says, taking control of the mouse to pull up the plugin libraries. “Wait until you hear this.”

Val

“Whoa. Stop.”

I freeze at my sister’s weird greeting. The fact that she’s even awake at two in the morning is concerning. I thought she evaporated into antimatter after 9:30.

When Nash pokes his head up from our couch, I have my answer. Guess he came over for a booty call after he left me at Larinda’s studio.

Ew.

“Hello to you too,” I mumble, dropping my laptop bag on the kitchen table.

Her gaze sifts over my face. “What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with him?” she directs at her boyfriend. I also notice he now wears a similar expression to the one he had the entire time he observed Larinda and me tonight. As much as I loved being alone with her after he left halfway through our session, I loved not having that smug look hovering inches away from me even more.

“He’s in love,” Nash says.

“What? No, I’m not.”

“Oh shit,” Paige says through a gasp. “He is! Guess it went well with Larinda?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not in love. And even if I was, it’s not like it could ever happen. She’s basically my boss, not to mention an A-list superstar with an A-list superstar boyfriend.”

“She and Jarvis will be broken up in a week. Don’t worry.”

“Not worried.” I grab a soda from the fridge and pop the lid.

“Well, hate to break it to you, little bro, but you’re legit glowing,” Paige says.

“Glowing? No way.”

“Uh, yeah, you are. I’ve watched you drift around in your dark cloud for twenty-two years. Trust me. I’m very familiar with your angsty default setting, and I have never seen you like this. Never.”

“She’s right, dude. Your melancholy is about twelve shades brighter right now.”

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