Chapter 38
RIO
It shoots straight up into the sky, a massive steel-and-glass middle finger to gravity. The top third disappears completely into the clouds.
Already I imagine the meeting our band will have with Midnight Records kingpin Derek Ward.
Even from the sidewalk, I can already see the glass table, the platinum records lining the walls. And Derek saying he can’t wait to sign us.
My mouth actually waters thinking about it.
I glance over at Steven, who's staring at the building too.
Our eyes meet, and I can tell he feels exactly what I'm feeling.
Prince Michael clears his throat and adjusts his tie. I've seen that serious look on his face too many times. Eyebrows knitted. Lips pressed into a thin line.
He's preparing to give one of his famous lectures. The one that starts with "Now, boys" and ends twenty minutes later with us wanting to jump out the nearest window.
I take a deep breath and brace myself for whatever wisdom he thinks we need right now.
But just as he opens his mouth, his phone buzzes in his pocket. The guy never turns it off—not during meals, not during meetings, not even that time we were at the governor's mansion.
He glances down at the screen, his expression shifting from stern dad to concerned businessman in an instant.
He holds up one finger to us and mouths "one minute" before stepping away toward the corner of the sidewalk.
Keith leans back against the limo and lets out a sigh.
"At ease, men," he mimics in that Manchester accent that makes everything sound like he's either joking or about to start a bar fight.
Steven indicates that I follow him out of Keith’s earshot. We walk to a far corner.
Keith’s a good bandmate, but he’s not soul brothers like me and Steven.
"What's up?" I ask.
Steven leans in closer, his jaw tight.
"Rio, you got lucky when Prince Michael convinced that Quench sponsor to give you another chance after you went off the rails in Las Vegas. Then we brought Maddie to Vegas to pose as your fake girlfriend. But you completely fucked that situation up too."
"I didn't fuck that up," I say. “If your sister wants to two-time me with her ex-fiancé, why is that my fault?"
"You didn’t hear her out," says Steven. "You just cut her off without an explanation. You let the press believe she slept with Joseph all night."
I look at him for a minute, then shake my head.
"Steven, you're overestimating my powers. I can't fucking walk on water. You think I’d be able to say anything that would make a national tabloid apologize or retract a story?"
"Yes," says Steven, "if you fucking went on record as saying the cover image was photoshopped. That it was a bold-faced lie. That they manufactured the picture.”
“I don’t know any of that for sure.”
“Then you should have at least stood up for Maddie. Then maybe the sponsor would have had more sympathy for her.”
Steven stares me down. “And he wouldn’t have kicked her off the project. Did you even realize what you're doing to her? The shame of it all?"
"I saw her with my own fucking eyes leave that Joseph guy’s room at 3 a.m,” I say. “It’s clear she chose her wealthy ex over me."
"How do you know if it’s clear unless you asked her for an explanation?"
"Proof was in the photo."
"You don't really believe that." he says in disbelief.
"Of course I do.”
Yet even as I speak the words, I wonder for the millionth time if I was making a rash decision.
But what other explanation could there be?
Steven looks to where Prince Michael is involved in a long and heated conversation, and then to Keith, who is busy with his own phone. We’re too far away for our conversation to be overheard.
"This meeting with Midnight Records means a lot to me," Steven says. *”Our band doesn’t make all that much money, but whatever we have, we always put it by mutual agreement back into our business.
Like partners. But you have to realize that our personal financial situations are different.
Since we’ve been financing our own gigs, I’m flat broke. ”
Steven pauses.
“And I don’t want to bother you with personal problems, but it turns out our mom is sick. Really sick. And her government insurance doesn’t begin to cover the smallest portion of it. I need to make money, big money, to support her. And maybe Maddie now that I found out her job is ending."
"Your mother?!" I say, shocked. Mrs. Smith was like a second mom to me when I was a kid. “What is it, Steven? Why didn’t you tell me before?"
"Just found out. If I wasn’t serious, I wouldn’t bring this up," he says.
We’re both silent for a moment.
"It’s a family affair. You don’t need to know all of it. But you do need to know I need to make money. And I intend on doing it.”
Steven stops speaking again. Another rush of thick, uncomfortable silence comes between us.
“Unfortunately, you have the looks in this band. The charisma. You’re the one the fans want. This meeting with Midnight Records will make us or break us. You can’t fuck up again.”
“What makes you think I’ll say or do anything during our meeting to ruin our chances with them? I want this as much as you.”
“Good. Glad we’re on the same page. Just remember, we’re not one person, Rio. We’re a band. And we’re a band that relies—for better or worse—on you."
I think about Steven's words. I can’t refute any of them.
They’re all true.
"Look," says Steven, actually taking my hand.
"We’re best friends. Tighter than most brothers. We did everything together since we were kids. We had all our 'first everythings' together. We know each other’s lives. We are a part of each other’s lives. But if you fuck this up? It's over for all of us. Keep that in mind during the meeting."
Prince Michael finishes the call and gives us a lecture, but it has zero effect on me.
Steven already said it all.