“I didn’t storm. I walked with purpose.”
“Is that what you call it?” Cleo chuckles. “Mandy canbe a bitch.”
Peyton gawks at Cleo. She’s wearing an oversized tee, a pair of baggy checked trousers, that look like pyjama bottoms, and some chunky beige trainers. Her outfit choice is stylish but dissimilar to the robotic corporate look of the other people she sees strolling in and out of the same building.
“You know her?”
“Sure. Mandy’s the paid obstruction. She’s essentially the,fuck you, sign nobody’s allowed to put on the wall. She’s the more subtle solution.”
“She’s mean. I only wanted some advice.”
“Well, don’t go to Mandy for that. It’s her job to discourage drop-ins.” Cleo sits beside Peyton. She smells good, like clean laundry mixed with vanilla.
“That’s notvery nice.”
“I know, but you get used to it. The music industry isn’t all Disney songs and sold-out concerts. It’s a harsh business.” Cleo pulls the rings on and off her fingers; the muscles in her forearm create lines as she tenses. Peyton eyes the vintage microphone tattooed on the inside of her left arm.
“Are youan artist?”
Cleo nods. “If you can call it that. Like I said, it’s a tough business. I have been in and out of these buildings more times than I can count. Today is another day of me trying to convince everyone I’m as good as Ithink I am.”
“Any advice?”Peyton asks.
“If you want to pitch your music to established artists, your best bet is to go through a music publisher, but you can’t just walk into a record label and demand they listen to your music, as you’ve discovered today.” Cleo stands up. She moves her sunglasses onto her head to hold her hair in place. “You have to get them to come to you. Utilise social media; put a lyric video on YouTube or TikTok. If there are specific artists you want to pitch your songs to, create a buzz within their fanbase. Join fan groups and post your songs. The more visible you are, the more likely someone from their team will approach you.”
“That actually works?” Peyton’seyes widen.
“Of course. If fans get excited about your songs, someone close to the artist or label you’re trying to pitch is going to take notice.”
“What ifthey don’t?”
“You could always stand outside their home and ambush them as they leave, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Nobody wants a harassment lawsuit.” Cleo smirks. Her phone rings. She silences it and removes a ring with a green circular stone from her index finger.
“I have to go, but here,take this.”
“I can’t takeyour ring.”
Cleo places the ring in the palm of her hand. “I have plenty more at home. It’s an aventurine gemstone. It’s supposed to bring prosperity, well-being, and good luck, or somethinglike that.”
The ring shimmers in the sunlight; It’s beautiful.
“Goodbye, Peyton.”
“But I feel weird about...” She’s gone. Her floppy perfectly conditioned hair and her glistening green eyes are gone.
Peytonis confused.
?
The door lock to the apartment is stiff and hard to open. Jesse makes it look easy, but Peyton has yet to get the hang of it. She tries three times, but the lockwon’t turn.
“Jesse!” she yells.
Jesse opens the door seconds later, his hair is tied up with a pink hair tie, Peyton’s pink hair tie, totally not invasive. He’s wearing a strip across his nose and a pair of old jersey shorts with sewn on patches;he’s unique.
“What’s this look then?” Peyton findsit amusing.
“This?” He spins around. “Just something I threw together. You like it?”