Chapter 25 #2
As I frame up my next shot, Miranda’s voice pricks my ears.
Her voice raises enough to talk over the music.
I glance over my shoulder again, but she’s leaning against a cocktail table, blocking my view of the other person.
I take a few steps back, and the other voice sounds uncannily familiar.
My stomach almost upends itself when I realize it’s Jasper Whitmore.
“Your father and I had an interesting conversation at a dinner party last month,” Miranda is saying, her voice smooth and professional. “He mentioned he was interested in investing in the music business.” Miranda pulls out a business card, hands it to Jasper. “I’d love to help him dip his toe in.”
Jasper examines the card. “Dad’s always looking for new opportunities. That’s the thing about tech. Sometimes it brings in too much money that you gotta find a new place to park it.”
Miranda tilts her head back with a steady laugh. “Oh goodness. Too much money? How very droll, Jasper.” Miranda taps the card Jasper’s now holding. “I think we could help each other. Tell him to give me a call. I have several acts that could benefit from the right backing.”
Jasper pockets the card. “I’ll let him know.”
“Enjoy the show.” Miranda glances toward the stage. “Are you here to take shots for the school paper?”
Jasper pats his camera, its strap around his neck. “You know it. I never miss an opportunity to document events involving my peers. Even if the lead singer is a thug.”
Miranda flinches. “A thug?”
Jasper rubs his shoulder. “He knocked me down in the hallway before first period on Thursday. I’m still feeling the bruises.”
Miranda shifts into management mode. “Well, you know guitarists. Always perfecting their edgy, don’t-mess-with-me persona.”
While exaggerating the hurt in his shoulder, Jasper’s gaze shifts, locking onto me. His eyes widen and he nudges Miranda. “I think it was her he didn’t want me messing with.”
Miranda looks over her shoulder, and her nostrils flare when she notices me.
“Alice,” she says with gritted teeth. “I was just chatting with your school friend. Wasn’t there something you wanted to say to Jasper?”
I move closer to them because I’m afraid Miranda might start spitting poison if I don’t.
“Uh, hi… Hi, Jasper,” I stammer, stepping beside my aunt.
Jasper looks down his nose at me, crossing his arms beneath his camera. “Well, well, well. Should’ve known the little stalker was here.”
Making me jolt, Miranda blasts her laughter as if she’s heard the funniest joke in the world.
She wipes an invisible tear and sighs. “Oh, Jasper. That’s hilarious.
Do people really think my niece is stalking one of my clients?
” She presses against her stomach. “Stop, before you say another word, or I’ll lose it with another fit of giggles. ”
Fit of giggles? Who is this woman?
“If you’d heard what I’d heard,” Jasper begins, “then you’d…”
Miranda cuts him off with more fake laughter. “Alice, have you ever heard anything more ridiculous? Oh, darling, this is the price we pay for living lives that involve celebrities. Those who don’t get jealous.”
“Jealous!” Jasper’s voice goes higher with obvious offense. “I’m not jealous of…”
Miranda holds her hands up placatingly. “Jasper, dear, you don’t need to defend yourself. Alice is used to it now. She’ll get a lot of hatred, simply because others want to be in her position.”
“But that’s not…”
Miranda cuts him off again. “Look, I don’t want this to affect my business dealings with your father.” She then looks at me with an encouraging nod. “Alice, please apologize to Japser for the camera fiasco.”
There’s something almost motherly in Miranda’s eyes.
I look away before she hypnotizes me and say to Jasper, “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Jasper clasps his camera and slips off his bar stool. “I told Dad we needed an upgrade, anyway.”
Upgrade? How many thousands did that new camera cost?
Miranda brushes off her hands. “And that’s that.”
“Maybe here,” I murmur, “but at school…”
“School, nothing,” Miranda says boldly. “Like he said, his father already bought the school a new camera. It’s information for you to use if it comes up at school. But I doubt it will. The poor boy left with his tail between his legs”
“Why did you do that? Won’t it jeopardize your relationship with his father?”
Miranda swats a hand. “Not at all. If Jasper recounts the story, I’ll seem like a bossy broad, which is manspeak for independent business woman.”
I catch myself smiling at Miranda’s infectious confidence.
She pats my shoulder. “Now, get some great shots. We can’t have the school paper looking better than the band’s social media feed.”
I nod, and before I have a chance to speak, a broad man in an expensive-looking suit walks up to us. With his hand raised outward, he says to Miranda, “They’re looking good out there.”
Miranda shakes his hand. “Of course, Mr. Kensington. They’ve been practicing hard for this moment. Thank you for giving them an opportunity to perform in front of the other executives before the upcoming showcase.”
“Hopefully it gets some of the rust off them.” Mr. Kensington’s bushy brows raise. “Seems like they had a bit of a stumble at the beginning.”
“This isn’t a professional establishment,” Miranda is quick to reply. “Yes, bands play here, but the setup isn’t ideal. The sound system, for one thing, needed upgrading two decades ago.”
“Mm-hmm.” There’s a wry smile under Mr. Kensington’s equally bushy mustache. “Unfortunately for Chase, this performance is still better than before you brought Hamilton into the picture.”
“I told you I found a star.”
“Just took you driving halfway across the country to find him.”
Miranda lets out a throaty laugh. “Well, I had time up my sleeve since you bought out my company.”
Mr. Kensington smirks, crossing his arms. “Saved your neck, don’t you mean?”
Miranda turns to me, patting my arm. “Shouldn’t you be taking photos, dear?”
I jolt back into my body, realizing I’m basically eavesdropping right in plain sight. “Oh, umm, right.”
“Ms. Knox.” Mr. Kensington looks me up and down. “Is this the niece I’ve heard about?”
“If you’ve heard about her from Chase,” Miranda replies, “I’m sure the report wasn’t glowing.”
If my face wasn’t red before…
“No one gets a glowing report from my son.” Mr. Kensington gestures at the stage. “Look at Hamilton up there, owning the stage. But that’s not the part I’ll hear about from my son.”
“But doesn’t your son need Ryder?” I hear myself say and instantly regret it. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
Mr. Kensington lets out a hearty laugh and then extends a hand to me. “Don’t mention it. I’m well aware Ryder Hamilton is carrying the band. I’m just sorry the boy can’t make it on his own. I’d much prefer Chase to be on this side of the stage, making important decisions alongside me.”
Miranda cuts in. “Perhaps the stage experience will make Chase a better executive in the future?”
Mr. Kensington nods. “We’d better hope so.”
“It was nice to meet you,” I tell Mr. Kensington, and then lift my camera. “But I’d better get back to shooting.”
As I walk away, I hear snippets of Miranda talking about my camera skills. She’s talking me up? Me?
She needs to stop, and send all that positive spin toward Ryder.
It’s true that Mr. Kensington thinks Ryder can’t make it on his own. But Ryder is so talented. I wish there were some way to rid his nerves for good. Without those solo-playing jitters, he’d be unstoppable and wouldn’t need those horrible boys backing him up.
The band is three songs in, and I’m completely in the zone. The crowd has faded into background noise. The executives, the other Ashworth students, and even Miranda, all disappear when I look through the viewfinder.
There’s only the music. The band. Ryder.
I move through the crowd, finding pockets of space and angles that tell a story. Chase and Brooks are good, but the camera magnetically pulls back to Ryder. The shots are my choice, so why not focus on him? I want to showcase his talent. I want to tell the story that he should be a solo artist.
I’m crouched near the front, getting a low-angle shot, when someone bumps into me hard from behind. I stumble forward, camera swinging on its strap, and barely catch myself before going down.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”
A hand steadies my arm, and I look up to find Madison Pierce with a flushed face of concern.
“Are you okay?” Madison asks. “I didn’t see you there in the dark.”
“I’m fine.” I pull my arm free, checking my camera for damage.
“Your photos are going to be amazing!” Madison says brightly, seemingly unaware of my discomfort. “The lighting in here is insane. I’ve been trying to get good content all night, but my phone camera just isn’t cutting it.”
She shows me her feed, scrolling through videos of the concert. The view count is already in the thousands.
“I’m really trying to grow my brand, you know?” Madison continues. “Build my following to help with future collaborations. Every little bit helps with the algorithm.”
I make a noncommittal noise, trying to focus on my camera settings.
“Wait, what are you taking photos for?” Her eyes widen at the preview images on my screen. “This looks serious.”
I hesitate, then figure there’s no point in hiding it. “It’s PR for the band. They can use it for promotional material, or whatever.”
Madison’s jaw drops. “Wait, you’re working with them? Like, officially?”
“Just for tonight.” I flash her my lanyard. “The real photographer has the flu.”
She looks between me and the stage, where Ryder is mid-song and completely lost in the music.
“Wow.” Madison almost says it to herself. “So when you and Ryder weren’t at school yesterday, you were lining up this gig?”
“What? No, I just…”
Madison looks me up and down. “But you are trying to make it in the business? I mean the rumors at school…”
I gasp, recoiling. “What rumors?”