Chapter 5 #2
Danny’s voice cuts through the waves in my head. “We need to get him out in public more. Interacting with people. Fans need to see him going places, being friendly, being silly, being that Rhys.”
The sound of the surf in my mind goes still. “Nah,” I say flatly.
“No?” Danny repeats, like he can’t quite believe it.
I glance at Stella. Her eyes are warm, dark, steady—and for a second, she gives me the courage I’ve been missing.
“No,” I say again, shaking my head. “I can’t pretend to be silly and happy while I’m worrying people are taking photos to sell off or post online with some garbage headline. I’m not ready for that again. I don’t want to do it.”
“You’d better get ready,” Danny says in that same tone he’s used since I was sixteen and too eager to agree. “You’re playing Winter Lights Live, and we need to sell out the venue. We need people to want to hear ‘Fa-La La-La Land’ again—and whatever other song you’re going to be playing there.”
At the mention of Winter Lights, my chest tightens.
He knows I haven’t written the new song yet. The one that was supposed to prove I still had something real to say. After they moved me from headlining the show to midline, I agreed to stay on only if I could perform a song that was mine. Not theirs. Not the label’s.
But I haven’t written a single word.
“With all due respect, Danny,” Stella says smoothly, “I think Rhys makes a good point. Filming him in his own environment will help him be more relaxed, more himself. I can get the footage I need and then edit it to show people the Rhys they want to see.”
“Nobody wants to see a testy introvert sitting at his piano, tinkering with songs,” Danny says.
Stella smiles, patient as ever. “I see your point, Danny, but my experience running Georgia Rose Beck’s social media is that the moments I captured of her being totally comfortable and herself were what got the most clicks, the most likes, the most engagement.
So, what if we balance out Rhys at his piano with Rhys hosting a party at his house?
He’ll be seen with people, but in his own environment, he won’t get weird. ”
Danny raises a brow. “We’re better off getting him to big events.”
“Uh-huh. I agree,” Stella says, “but let me ask you this—do you have any experience with breeding steers?”
My head snaps toward her.
Danny frowns. “Breeding what?”
“Steers? I mean…cows.”
I’ve got no clue where she’s going with this, but I’m oddly invested. I like the idea of myself as a bull. Big. Solid. No one pushes him around.
Danny gives an awkward laugh. “I assume it’s a matter of getting the dude cow in the same place as the lady cow.”
Stella’s smile turns condescending in the prettiest way. “Your method would be a lot easier, but not as successful. If you want a prize-winning steer, you need bull semen, rubber gloves that go to your shoulder, a strong stomach, and a very comfortable, happy heifer.”
“I don’t follow,” Danny says, and for once, I’m right there with him.
“Prized-bull semen is expensive,” Stella explains. “You want results the first time you artificially inseminate a heifer. That means you keep her in her own environment, make sure she’s fed, petted, and loved before shoving your arm up her—”
She stops at Danny’s expression. I reckon mine looks the same—equal parts shocked and impressed.
Stella softens her smile. “Before doing what it takes to deliver the payload, you make sure the heifer is comfortable. Sometimes you even sing to her, Danny. You take care of your assets, because if you can get one great steer from her, you can probably get more, but only if you treat her right.”
Danny blinks. Stella clasps my shoulder. “Rhys is your heifer, Danny. Let’s keep him comfortable and happy.”
“What? How am I the heifer?” I twist away from her and glare. “If anything, I’m the bull.”
Danny bursts out laughing while I seriously consider firing her on the spot.
I’m not thrilled to be the heifer in this analogy—especially the one getting, as she put it, “payloaded.” I’m about two seconds from going full bull-in-a-china-shop just to prove I’ve got horns—until Stella shoots me a quick look over her shoulder, a tiny shake of her head, and I swallow my ego.
“How much footage are you going to need?” Danny asks, still chuckling.
Stella draws a calm breath. “Well, when I first started with Georgia and Zach, I filmed a lot. Everything they did on set, but also stuff off set. I mean, I practically lived with them. It didn’t take long for them to forget I was there, which made it possible for me to capture those day-in-the-life moments Georgia’s fans wanted to see. ”
Danny’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s not a bad idea—you living with Rhys, so you can get all the footage you need. Take the semen to the heifer, right?”
Stella makes a strangled noise that’s half cough, half laugh. “That wasn’t really the point of the analogy. I’m not moving in with Rhys.”
“I’ve got no room for her to live at my place.” Spending more time with Stella would make all this social media stuff more bearable, but she can’t live with me, or I’d forget how to talk altogether, let alone sing.
“How much room do you think she needs?” Danny asks, like Stella’s got no say, but then he turns to her.
“I want you living with Rhys for the next four months. Until Winter Lights Live, your only focus is rehabbing Rhys James’s reputation.
If you deliver what you’ve promised, then we’ll start adding other VibeHouse artists to your client roster. ”
“This won’t work, Danny—us living together.” I turn to Stella and wait for her to back me up.
She cocks her head and puts her hands on her hips, and I prepare for her to refuse.
Instead, she says, “I hear you, but I’m worth a lot more than a prize-winning bull, and I expect my salary to reflect that.”
Danny bursts out laughing again while I try to work out how I’ve gained a new roommate and why I’m pulsing with excitement instead of anger.