Page 91 of Rock On

“You’re not holding your breath for that, are you?” I teased.

She laughed. “Not hardly.”

Ross Rocket was the lead singer of a band we’d loved as teens. They weren’t together anymore, but we still listened to their music and joked about which one of us was going to ‘marry’ Ross. Ironically, Ross was now Onyx Knight’s tour manager, though none of us ever acknowledged that we knew who he was because he’d asked the band to keep it under wraps when they’d hired him.

Wynter knew, but of course, she was discreet as well.

We still joked about it, though.

“Good night,” I called as she headed for her bedroom. “Sweet dreams!”

“Me and Ross Rocket,” she called over her shoulder. “Between the sheets!”

I laughed.

THIRTY-FIVE

Tommy

“As we suspected,” Madeline said once the band meeting got underway. “We’ve already received a cease and desist, informing us that we don’t have permission to play ‘Break Your Promise’ or ‘Shiny Pieces’ on the upcoming tour. I’ve started drafting a response, but I’m not sure we have a leg to stand on.”

“Sasha, how long can we delay the tour?” Kingston asked.

“I’m not sure,” she responded. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“We re-record those two songs right fucking now since we own the copyright to the music and the lyrics. Does your mom have availability in her studio? If not, find us a place. Once we re-record the masters, we’ll own those, too.”

“I can get that info for you before we’re done with the meeting,” Sasha responded, typing something into her phone. She was with us via video chat, but that didn’t hold her back at all.

“I don’t know if I can,” I admitted, even though I hated it. “I think ‘Promise’ is beyond what I’m capable of short-term.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Kingston said. “I don’t know how, but I am not fucking around with this bullshit. Aurora has no idea who she’s messing with.”

“And there’s more bad news,” Madeline said. “It looks like they also own the rights to the videos for those early albums too. The only reason you can re-record the masters is because it’s been more than five years since the commercial release of the albums.”

“What the fuck did we sign?” Kellan growled. “How did we get so screwed over?”

“There was fine print and a slew of loopholes,” Madeline said. “You were young and inexperienced, so it’s not the first time I’ve seen a band get fucked over, sadly. I’ve been over the contract with a fine-tooth comb, and other than retaining your credits as the writers of the lyrics and the music, they own far more than most record companies. Did they not realize the extent of their power until now?”

“I’m sure they did,” King rumbled, “but we had a gentleman’s agreement with the higher-ups at Low Rider. We were all making a ton of money, so they had no reason to mess with us. With Aurora, money isn’t her end game, and it wasn’t until she got involved that things went sideways. But like I said, she has no idea who she’s messing with. I won’t put up with it.”

“Okay, if you’re willing to start next week, we can give you three days of studio time,” Sasha said. “Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday.”

“Guys—” I started to talk but Kingston held up a hand.

“I know, man. I know. We’ll figure something out. Let me think about what to do.”

“Bash lives in Vegas,” I said reluctantly. “He’ll help if I can’t do it, and if he can’t, maybe Tate from Crimson Edge.”

“Both good ideas,” King said thoughtfully. “And maybe you can do one song and one of them can do the other. Let’s see what the doc says on Friday before we decide, but we’d have to fly Tate in from Minneapolis, so we need to talk to Bash first.”

“A strong course of steroids for a couple of days might reduce the swelling and inflammation enough for me to fake it for two songs,” I said.

“I can play drums on ‘Shiny Pieces,’” Kellan put in. “If you can learn the rhythm guitar parts by then, we can switch.”

“I already know them,” I said. “Just need a little practice.

“And,” Devyn interjected thoughtfully, “having guests on those songs adds a change that will make fans want to buy the new version.”

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