Chapter 5 Jane
Jane
The Wednesday after my recording session with Keeley, the Glitter Bats gather for what was supposed to be a jam session at Valerie and Caleb’s town house. Jamming hasn’t actually happened yet, because we’ve all been catching up, and then Caleb got food going.
It’s nice, though, to just talk to them all. It’s been too long since we were together as a band.
After they eloped in Vegas seven weeks ago, our lead singers upgraded from Valerie’s tiny one-bedroom to a quaint place in Long Beach close to the ocean.
This is the first time we’ve all been over, and it’s fun to see how they’ve put the space together.
It’s a cute home, with terra-cotta-colored walls and vintage-looking brass furnishings and plenty of windows to let in sunlight.
They’ve even got pre-hiatus Glitter Bats memorabilia mounted all over the living room, and Riker keeps standing up to examine each frame and statuette, as if he doesn’t have the same keepsakes in his own music room.
It’s good to see them up, because our early days were a sore spot for Caleb during the time he was away from the industry. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to come back at all, and I’m thankful every day that he did.
My heart aches knowing I might be the holdout this time.
Keeley and I haven’t cleared the air yet, and it’s beyond awkward.
She’s sitting on one of the green velvet sofas next to me, but I think that’s more because it was the only free seat and not because she actually wants to be close.
And I’m all too aware of her presence. Today, Keeley’s wearing a yellow crop top that shows off her toned stomach in the gap of skin above her high-waisted jeans, tied effortlessly together with an open short-sleeve button-down in a bright, abstract pattern.
It’s not much skin, but it’s distracting enough, especially when she shifts again and I catch the herbal scent of her shampoo.
Pathetically, I tried to look pretty today, because I knew Keeley would be here…
even though she’s seen me at my most unkempt hundreds of times, so there’s no reason I should feel embarrassed by how casual I was at the studio last week.
But I couldn’t help it. Instead of putting my hair up, I styled my curls with water and my diffuser and let them hang around my shoulders.
I’m wearing a vintage blue long-sleeved minidress that’s casual enough for a group hang but makes me feel a Stevie Nicks kind of cool.
I almost thought I caught Keeley checking out my legs when I walked in, but it had to have been my imagination. I shake my head, willing myself to think of literally anything else other than how much I want Keeley Cunningham to pay attention to me.
So we can clear the air. Obviously.
Sebastian Bark takes turns leaning his head in each of our laps as we lounge around the living room, snacking on cheese and crackers and passing around a bottle of wine while the oven preheats for Caleb’s homemade pizza.
When the dog comes over to me with happy snuffles, I make him sit and offer him a tiny piece of cheddar. He takes it gently before bounding proudly over to his parents.
“Hey, no human food! It makes him gassy,” Caleb says from his spot on the other side of Valerie. He’s chopped off his shaggy curls from the summer, his dark hair now trimmed closer to his head so only the top is longer. Teacher Caleb is back now that school is in session.
Valerie leans down to press a kiss on Sebastian Bark’s head, and he wags his tail as her freshly platinum hair tickles his nose, any last trace of her turquoise dye from our tour long gone.
“Don’t listen to your daddy, he’s mean. You can have whatever you want,” Valerie says in a baby voice I’ve never heard before.
“You’re going to spoil him,” Caleb warns, but there’s more fondness than frustration in his tone.
Valerie reaches for her wineglass and takes a sip.
He opens up his arm as an offering, and she snuggles in close to his side, nursing her drink.
She’s so much softer than the Valerie I saw last summer—relaxed, smiling, unworried.
It doesn’t hurt that her acting career is booming on top of More to Say.
After her musical TV series, Epic Theme Song, got cancelled by The Network, Sunset Streaming+ picked it up for multiple seasons, and Valerie is in the middle of promo.
Stability is rare in this industry, and it makes it easier to relax. It’s the thing I’m clinging to.
But Caleb is obviously the true reason for Valerie’s change, and it’s good to see them happy together.
The two rarely separate, and if you didn’t know them before they got hitched, you’d think it was just a newlywed thing.
They’ve always been tactile like this. Even when they were pretending they weren’t together, they couldn’t stop holding hands, leaning shoulders, stealing kisses when they thought no one was watching.
I’m glad they found their happily ever after.
“You two are disgusting,” Keeley says, gesturing at the happy couple.
Valerie rolls her eyes as Caleb kisses her temple.
“Deal with it,” Caleb says, but he seems to take the hint. “So, uh, should we discuss the elephant in the room?” Heat floods my cheeks, and I wonder, for a moment, if Keeley told him about our fight. “Do we want to talk about band stuff, or just hang out?”
A year ago, he didn’t want the band to have a future at all, so it’s strange to see he’s even open to more conversations. Despite my busy schedule, I’m not opposed to talking about things.
I’m just worried about where they might lead.
My agent, Lacey Sampson, has been wrangling my schedule into submission, but it doesn’t look pretty.
I also have to factor in my sister’s wedding.
Nora still hasn’t called me, even after I sent her a flower arrangement with a carefully crafted congratulatory message, and I wonder if I taught her that.
Maybe it’s no different than me avoiding confrontation instead of calling Keeley to clear the air.
Riker’s brows raise as he stares at his phone in his hand, jaw dropping open. “I think we should talk about this. Check your fucking emails.”
I grab my phone out of my bag and start to read the most recent message, forwarded from Wade, with an apology that he’s heading onto a flight and won’t be available to discuss this directly for a few hours.
NOTICE TO CEASE AND DESIST
On behalf of Label Records, the lawful owner of the copyright to the albums Wanderlust, Bittersweet, and More to Say, it has come to our attention that Glitter Bats have been using copyrighted work without permission.
This letter serves as formal notice for Glitter Bats to cease and desist all use of these recordings immediately.
The unauthorized use of this intellectual property, as observed in Glitter Bats social media accounts, is clear infringement that goes beyond fair use…
It drags on into more pretentious legalese. From her perch next to me, Keeley hisses. “Those motherfucking cunts.”
My jaw sets. I don’t get angry very often, but I’m furious.
All we did was take over our own social media accounts after separating from Label Records. We created a few videos with the recorded versions of “Ghosts,” and “Light the Way,” and “Better Times,” compiling footage from the summer tour. It was harmless. The fans loved it.
And now we have to take it down.
Of course I know how copyright works, but they’re talking about our music. I hate that they have total control of where and how it’s used.
“It’s so ridiculous—this would never hold up in court,” Riker says from his spot on the armchair across from us.
“It just fucking might,” Keeley says ruefully. She starts typing furiously, pursing her lips in a way that is just too distracting given the gravity of this conversation. “Caleb and Valerie wrote the lyrics, but Label owns all of our masters. This has Landon written all over it.”
Landon Banks is the current CEO of Label, but he was also a high-profile producer when we first got into the industry, with experience actually playing in bands that influenced us.
When we were offered a chance to work with him, we were all starry-eyed.
That lasted until we realized Landon wasn’t on our side.
He was demanding and had a huge ego. We wrote all of our songs, but he always wanted to take credit for our success, and for a while, we let him.
He was out of the country last summer when we came together for that fated Glitter Bats reunion, so we almost thought we were in the clear.
We should have known better. When we finished More to Say six months ago, he threw a bit of a tantrum when we were finally walking away from that last recording session.
It’s really awkward when a man in his fifties throws a tantrum.
I’m so glad Label no longer owns us, but they still own our music, so they can do whatever they want. This is…so much worse than I was expecting, and I feel like a fool.
I nod. “Keeley is right.” She startles, like she forgot I was here, and her face flushes. “If Label is saying we can’t play the song, we can’t play the song. Live shows are different, but they own the recordings, and there’s no disputing that.”
It’s such a weird position. We’ve never had control of our own music.
That’s what we got for signing a contract we didn’t understand as teenagers, and it doesn’t help that our first manager, Valerie’s mom, Tonya, didn’t look out for our best interests.
In fact, I think she might have sided with the label on this one.
She was always a little too cozy with Landon and his VP, Gina Choi, for my liking. It never felt like she had our backs.
“What should we do in the meantime?” Valerie asks. “I know we’re all busy, but this is so important. Do any of us have the capacity to fight this?”
Keeley stiffens next to me, and I know she’s remembering our argument just as vividly as I am.