Page 14 of Your Rhythm
“Sacrement, non.”
“Like fuck we’re using that.”
“No. No way.”
“Over my dead, rotting corpse.”
Shayla shushes us. “Ben là, calm your tits. I haven’t even finished showing you yet.”
She’s trying to take the high ground, but I can tell she feels the same as we do. All I can do is shake my head as she scrolls through a few more pictures.
I’m not going to lie and say I’ve never realized we’re four pretty good-looking dudes. I’m also aware a lot of the attention we’ve caught is because of that, but it’s never something we’ve focused on as far as promoting ourselves goes. I like to think that even if our looks are the reason some peoplestartlistening to us, it’s not why theykeeplistening to us. Clearly the PR team has other ideas.
“This is like a Magic Mike meets indie rock sex fantasy.”
Ace summed it up pretty well. The posters show us in various stages of removing flannel shirts, cast in black and white against different galaxy-themed backgrounds.
“How did they even get a picture of me lifting my shirt up like that?” JP asks, still gawking at the tablet.
“I think they photoshopped these.” Shayla coughs to cover what I’m sure is a snicker. “You know, just to give us an idea of what they’re aiming for.”
“Must be photoshopped, JP,” I say with a nod. “I know for a fact you don’t have an eight pack.”
At that, the tension breaks and we all burst out laughing. I can’t believe an entire team of PR professionals actually thought this was a good idea.
“But seriously, Shayla,” Cole urges once things have calmed down a bit, “I am not signing off on that.”
A dark possibility occurs to me then. I turn to Shayla.
“Wedoget to say no to this, right?”
“Yes.”
She sounds too cautious for that to be the end of the story.
“...And no.”
There it is.
“You don’t getfinalsay on this kind of stuff, but I made sure you’re included in creative decision-making. I took care of you boys when we worked out the contract. You have way more leeway than a mega label taking a shot on some up-and-comers would normally give. I think that’s because we’re getting the bare minimum compensation to make signing with them worth our while, and also”—she pauses to toss her hair over her shoulder—“because I’m amazing.”
“Hear, hear!” JP shouts, reaching over to pat her on the back.
“So I’ll tell them it’s a solid ‘no’ on this and that we’d like to take a different direction. Moving onto the next order of business, we need to make sure you’re all up to speed on your bookings for the next few weeks. You have that show in Ottawa on the twenty-second...”
Shayla spends the next twenty minutes grilling us on all things Sherbrooke Station. As tedious as it can be, I still get pumped up when I realize we actually have things like contracts and a PR department to talk about. We’ve already come so far from starting with nothing but a basement and a dream.
I try to set an example by staying focused on what Shayla’s saying, but we’re all zoning out by the time she wraps things up.
“...and in case you weren’t listening, which I’m sure none of you were, I already forwarded all the information to your phones.Pleasetake the time to look at it, and do whatever you have to do to stay on top of this.”
She locks eyes with each of us in turn.
“I’ve gotten you boys this far. I’m not planning on stopping until you reach the top. Got it?”
We nod like kids who’ve been threatened with detention.
Shayla pops up out of her seat, all smiles now that she’s had her daily scare-the-shit-out-of-the-band moment.
