Page 84 of Fallen Princess: Shadow Stalker

We don’t belong here.

Not anymore.

It’s not the kind of future we want to shape for ourselves.

Oliver brushes his hand through his meticulously styled hair, showcasing a blend of dark and silver strands. His complexion is weathered but distinguished, and hints of a tan show his preference for spending most of his weekends on his yacht docked in St.Tropez. He might be at the top of his game regarding his connections in the music industry and discovering talent that will go on to become legends someday but we know he’s also cunning and sly, and this meeting most likely has some private deal forged behind it.

The man’s a ruthless business mogul and a tastemaker in his own right who knows how to navigate the complexities of the music industry.

He pulls the white cuff from under his jacket. His tailored suit exudes modern elegance, and he wears it like second skin. The charcoal gray suit is paired with a crisp white shirt and a silk tie, highlighting his sartorial finesse. A subtle pocket square adds a touch of personality, signaling that beneath the polished exterior lies a man who understands the importance of making a lasting impression.

“You’re 28. Haze is 29 and the face of England’s largest fitness brand. None of you have worked in music for almost a decade, and on top of that, none of you are getting younger, either. You need a fast hit to the market before you all turn 30. These guys can get you there faster.”

I strum my fingers on the table to a light beat in my head. It’s my way of remaining calm in a situation I’m wary of. Stealing a glance at Eden, I watch her nervously push a strand of hair away from her face, making no attempt to focus on anyone. She was the most outspoken about not wanting to meet with the label, but Jagger and Haze convinced her to come and at least hear what terms they wished to offer.

The entire atmosphere in this room is charged with a mixture of excitement and hesitation as we sit and patiently wait at this long table.

The glass doors slide open automatically, and three label reps waltz inside. I immediately recognize Aiden Foster and Lauren Hayes, both seasoned executives who were based at our old record label. I glance at my band members and realize they also rememberthem, but my attention is caught on Eden, whose face quickly stiffens as she shakes hands with Lauren. There has to be some history there that I don’t know about.

The third rep is an older man, possibly late sixties, and I imagine he probably has the heaviest powers in this trio of execs.

“Alright, let’s get down to it,” Aiden says after settling back into the leather armchairs. “As a favor to Oliver, we listened to your demo. But we’re concerned about your lack of experience. You’ve been out of the game for over a decade and want to reenter under a different name and different music style. My biggest concern is you have no following.”

Like the knobhead he is, Oliver nods appreciatively at Aiden while the rest of us exchange angry glances.

“We appreciate you taking the time to listen to the demo and invite us here,” Jagger interjects. “But what is the purpose of bringing us here?”

Good question, one I’m especially interested in finding out because my first impression is that Aiden’s a total arsemonger.

“We like your sound,” Lauren explains. “It’s unique. You always sounded good together, but we want you to connect with your old fans. They’ve grown out of teenage pop and are in their twenties now. We want them to connect back with you and identify with you. That’s why we want to talk about image. It’s raw, which is good, but we’re wondering if it needs a bit more polish for mainstream appeal.”

Eden finally exchanges a look with Haze and me, and a hint of concern fills her face. She seems as if she’s ready to bolt out of here.

I can hardly blame her if she does.

“We want to maintain our authenticity, Lauren,” Jagger explains. “We're building our image around being real and relatable.”

“Authenticity is crucial, no doubt,” Aiden adds in. “But, you know, the industry has its demands. We need to balance what you want and what the market expects. They see the five of you, and they expect the Sonics.”

Haze leans forward, a determined look on his face.

“We get it, but we don't want to become something we're not. Our music is about genuine expression, not just chasing trends, nor is it about the Sonics.”

“You don’t have the time to start new. Not at your age.”

“Bullshite,” exclaims Callum. “That’s not even remotely true.”

“You want to form a new band with the same people and pretend you don’t have a tarnished past. People aren’t stupid,” Aiden insists.

“What about the legalities behind our old band name? How would royalties work with another label’s income?” Jagger asks, and I’m relieved he thought that.

“Ice Records are ready to sell copyrights to us. All except for Shadow’s Solitude. They’re holding onto that music copyright.”

“We usually collaborate closely with our artists, and we have a certain direction in mind for you five.”

“We're not looking to compromise on our artistic freedom. We're open to collaboration but won't let go of our vision.” Jagger says firmly.

Aiden sighs, recognizing the challenge of striking the right balance.

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