Chapter 8 Keeley
Keeley
I can’t think straight with Jane in the house.
(And there’s nothing straight about it.)
Fuck, I need to focus. Jane is hard at work, that determined set to her shoulders just visible through the crack in my music room door as she works out the next lines of her song. Now that I’ve helped her remember what a musical genius she is, it’s time to turn to my own project.
I step into my kitchen and grab a notepad off the counter. Last night, I told the band that I would look into our legal options, now that Label is playing games with our masters. I intend to do just that.
Once Wade confirms his availability, I give him a call.
“Hey, Keeley. I’m glad we were able to connect.”
There’s already a restless energy in my feet, and without a kick drum to occupy me, I begin pacing around my dining area so I can think. ADHD is a bitch.
“Me too.”
He sighs. “That cease and desist is unexpected, but our lawyers took a look: it’s binding.”
My heart falls, even though Oliver told me as much while we were texting about it this morning. Label Records has always played games with us, but they’re always frustratingly legal about it. “Fucking hell.”
“Social media rights are interesting, because they’re often treated like fair use, but @GlitterBatsMusic is a business marketing channel. They have the legal right to ask you to take the music down, even if they allow it elsewhere on the platform.”
I pick at the nail polish on my middle finger, still aquamarine from playing that gig last weekend. It starts to chip away with the last dregs of my self-restraint.
“Ugh, that’s such bullshit. Like I get that, but do we have any room to negotiate about our rights now that our contract is up?” I already know the answer, but I have to ask, if only for the edification.
“Your ten-year contract was about recording new work, but the masters are a separate conversation. As you’re aware, Label owns the original recordings in perpetuity. A limited term would have had to be negotiated at signing.”
“I guessed as much, but fuck,” I say. Valerie’s mom was our manager when we first signed with Label, and the contract was absolute garbage.
Landon Banks basically owned us. Tonya Quinn wouldn’t have known to fight for something like the rights to our masters, if she even would have cared—she was just in it for her.
The only negotiating she did was to ensure she got more than her fair share of our royalties.
“You should also know that they’re using ‘Daydreams Like This’ on the new season of Love, Unscripted.”
“Well that’s just perfect. I’m so glad Landon asked us before he sold that song,” I say dryly, as I chip away at the rest of my nails.
Valerie and Caleb will be overjoyed to know their personal, intimate love song six years in the making is being used on the trashiest reality dating show of the year.
No shade to folks who enjoy reality shows, but when the entire premise is structured around cheating, well…
the Glitter Bats struggle enough with reputation.
“Can we get a meeting with them to discuss our use of our songs?” I ask.
Wade hums. “I can ask. I’m not sure how much they’ll be willing to negotiate, but it’s worth a conversation.”
I let out a resigned breath. “What do you think the likelihood is of getting rights to our masters?”
Wade pauses. I know that pause: he’s trying to figure out the kindest way to deliver disappointing news.
“Well, masters are guaranteed income as long as people are buying or streaming albums. Most labels aren’t willing to give that capital up if they don’t have to.
And if they are willing to entertain the conversation… it won’t be cheap.”
Of course it won’t. I can’t imagine Landon would let us go that quietly.
I grab my pen and start scribbling on the notepad, trying to make sense of our situation.
Our record deal was so bad that we hardly see any royalties anymore, and since the band has only recently reunited, we don’t really have much money to speak of in our joint band account.
And that’s going to mean putting personal capital on the line.
Which could be a problem.
I’d gladly contribute as much funding as I could into getting our masters.
My financial situation is solid, but I know the same can’t be said for the others.
Caleb had a really hard time managing money from the start, and his teacher salary isn’t exactly putting a lot of extra money on the table.
While Valerie and Riker both work in the industry, they also have expensive taste, so I have no idea what their savings look like.
And then there’s Jane. Like me, Jane is also financially cautious, but to an extreme that I’m not sure how to navigate. My jaw tenses as I think back to our argument. If she’s got so many other projects on her plate, is she really going to want to invest in Glitter Bats?
We may have cleared the air, but things still don’t feel quite right.
“I have no idea if that’s an option for us,” I finally say. “First, I just want to know how far they plan to take this cease and desist.”
“I’ll reach out about Label’s meeting availability.”
“Sounds good. You know my schedule is wide open.”
“Label may not bring your masters up, or they could throw a wild price tag out there—you know what games they play. But do you want to put your energy into this, or do you want to focus on new music?”
“Hell if I know,” I mutter. “But thank you for talking me through this. I really appreciate you.”
“Of course, Keeley. I’ll ask for a meeting and keep you informed. Call me if you have any questions.”
“I will,” I say.
When we hang up, I sink onto my couch in defeat. I don’t want to think about what buying our masters would require, but I don’t want to give up on the Glitter Bats either.
Owning all of our masters would be life-changing.
We would get royalties, and we’d get to choose when and where our music is used.
Unable to sit still, I go to the kitchen and unload the dishwasher, then scrub down the counter.
In my frustration, I realize I’m scrubbing a bit too hard, my shoulder aching from the effort.
Defeated, I head to the living room, settling onto the floor to stretch.
I should have done this after my run anyways, but I was too distracted by the presence of Jane Mercer in my house to linger long enough to take care of my muscles.
I go through my usual routine, starting with a side-body stretch, trying to focus on a strong mindset for the Label meeting instead of thinking about the redhead in the other room.
Even when she’s stressed beyond what most reasonable people can handle, she’s stunning. It’s almost too much to bear. As though my thoughts summon her, Jane emerges from the music room, looking exhausted but smiling.
“How’d it go?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Better, after you helped. I appreciate it.”
“Of course,” I say.
Jane settles down on the floor across from me and mirrors my stretches. “What have you been up to?” she asks.
“Just talked to Wade. We’re going to try to meet with Label to discuss this mess with the cease and desist. I’ll take the meetings so you all don’t have to worry about your schedules.”
I brace for more reluctance, but Jane just nods. “Makes sense. We have to start somewhere.”
Finally, I admit my fear out loud. “I think they did this because Landon wants something from us.”
Jane lets out a labored breath. “I’m worried about that too.”
I purse my lips. “I’m just…I’m not sure what that is.”
“We’ll just have to go in with our eyes open.”
“You’re right,” I say. I want to ask about the masters, but I’m afraid of what she’ll say when it’s just the two of us, and the band isn’t here to keep the peace if we start arguing again. So instead, I change the subject. “I’m getting hungry. Did you have lunch today?”
“No,” she says. “But I could eat. Sometimes when I’m working, I forget to feed myself.”
“I can relate to that.” And then I realize I have nearly no groceries in the house. “Want to run to the store or order in?”
Jane purses her lips. “Why don’t we order in? It’s on me.”
I flush. “You really don’t have to do that.”
She smiles ruefully. “I know, but I want to. The last day has been a bit of an ordeal, and I’m craving pizza again. Is that weird?”
I blink. If I wasn’t already a little in love with her, I might be at this moment. “Pizza is always a good idea.”
“I’ll order the spiciest thing on the menu.”
“You’re an angel, Mercer.”
She beams, and I try not to think anything of it.
While Jane grabs her phone and orders, I run into my bedroom and put together a load of laundry to calm my nervous energy.
By the time I’ve put darks in the washer, folded the rest of the towels that were sitting forgotten in my dryer, and gone to rejoin Jane in my living room, she’s got the next episode of Epic Theme Song cued up.
“Want to keep watching?” she asks.
“Ooh, yes please.” I sit next to her on the sofa. “I’m pretty sure this is a big Lola Martinez episode. Jesus Christ, she’s hot in this.”
Immediately I want to take the words back. The last thing I want to do is make Jane uncomfortable. It’s bad enough that I’m creepily pining after her and she doesn’t even know it. She doesn’t need me talking about other girls on top of it all.
But then she says something that would make me fall on the floor if I hadn’t just joined her on the couch. “She really is. That Shadowgirl costume is…distracting.”
Holyfuckingshit.
My pulse picks up, and I clear my throat. “It definitely is.”
We watch the next episode while we wait for pizza. It is indeed a big Shadowgirl episode. Even though Valerie gets a nice verse on one of the songs, it’s Lola’s time to shine in a big dance number on top of one of the buildings of the college campus where the ragtag superheroes go to school.
I pause at the end of the episode.
“Do you need anything? Something to drink?” I ask. “I’m going to get myself a glass of water.”