Chapter 9 #3
But maybe he was onto something, because I carried myself with a bit more confidence, and then the next day, Amber met me and Stephen on our way out of the studio, Stephen having relaxed a little bit now and laughing along with me over something, and she stepped out of the control room and flagged me down.
“Hey, Julie, Stephen,” she said. “Wanted to catch you before you ran. You really going to just book this room every day?”
I elbowed Stephen. “Tell her, Stephen Shale.”
He was learning, in time, because he stood rigidly and said, with all the presence and power of a sickly dormouse, “Until I’ve got my big hit.”
Amber grinned. “I’m not gonna hit you for saying it, buddy.” She turned back to me. “Got your hands full, huh?”
“Yeah, well… I’m stubborn.” And had no other choice. Powerful combination.
“I’m seeing that. We’re only open from nine to nine. If you wanted to just use the space to practice, I could let you come in outside operating hours.”
I almost cried for a second before I remembered what Krysten had said, looking desperate ingratiates you with nobody, and I kept a reasonable expression. “Yeah? I’m not getting you in trouble?”
“Ah, Sean doesn’t give a shit. You won’t be able to use the big equipment, but if you’re just making some beats and writing shit, you’ll be good.
” She pushed up off the acoustic crate she’d made her regular perch, unfolding her legs out of the pretzel pose she always sat in and standing up.
“I talked to Sean about your friend’s app, and he says I can switch over to it if it works better for me.
You wanna come around at nine and you can show me how it works? ”
Oh, shit, being stubborn and having no choice did work.
“Thank god,” I said. “I’ve got people breathing down my neck wondering why I keep scheduling things outside the app.
That’d be a lifesaver. Thanks, Amber.” I elbowed Stephen.
“You free tonight, too? Come hang out and practice those verses again while Amber and I are talking business?”
“Ah, I, uh, I told my momma I was gonna clean the house.”
“Shit, man, you’re twenty-two, nobody’s going to think you’re cool doing this. All right, we’ll get you in for a late sesh another time.”
I waited until I was out of the studio and had said bye to Stephen before I collapsed against the corner of the construction barrier that made the wall of the lot, and I crumpled into my hands, crying a little.
I was so fucking tired and stressed and scared for my fucking life, but shit, something had worked.
Kingmaker sent me Sheila’s contact that evening too, in between my deliveries and harassing other studios—I told them this time I was working with another studio and that it would help them coordinate and keep up with industry events better, and just like I’d been hoping, it made people take me a tiny bit more seriously, even if I still didn’t close anything with anyone—and Kingmaker said he’d told her about me as a music talent manager from out of the city, and that she, quote, thinks you’re way more serious than you are, so don’t let her down.
Cool. Because I loved lying about who I was.
But Sheila was friendly, a lyricist and producer who had worked with some big studios on pop and soul hits, and eager to build out her own solo portfolio, she agreed to give me some light coaching in exchange for a testimonial, which, judging by the three lines that were all I had of a song, I was going to need more than light coaching, but I’d take what I could get.
Once I was home that night, I had my first message in an old chat log—well, it wasn’t that old, but it felt like years ago that I’d met Krysten.
KRYSTEN ADESINA
I thought that I was hallucinating, but it was your name that referred the studio in Queens today, wasn’t it?
I laughed, dropping on the grungy old mattress on the floor as I typed a response back.
JULIE
I’ve got a lot more still in the pipeline, too.
She called me, and I picked up to hear her laughing. “You are a delusional young woman.”
“You called to tell me that? What else should I know that I definitely already do?”
She laughed again. “Then I will admit that I was wrong about you. Tell me what else you have in the pipeline.”
I was a delusional young woman, so I said, “Let’s talk about it over coffee. You’ve got a coworking space booked with your Jewel people, right? I can swing by.”
“Ah, this one thinks she’s part of the team now.”
“Aren’t I?”
She laughed again, louder this time. “Delusional and shameless! These are two of my favorite traits. I will send you the address. Will you come by on Thursday?”
Holy shit, delusional and shameless was working. “I should be able to squeeze it into my schedule.”
“Squeeze it into your schedule, she says! Oh, my dear. I am sure you will have time.”
“Hey—what do you mean by that? I’m a busy woman these days!”
“One o’clock on Thursday. I will see you then, Julie.”
I was a busy woman these days. I mean, mostly with doing delivery work and knocking on doors of people who were going to give me a polite smile and a polite no, but still.
I’d make it work, though. Heading to the office for a meeting. Shit. I’d have to bust out my suit again.
I was riding the high all through the next day, where I kept busy the same as ever—I’d sleep when I was dead, which, to be fair, felt like it was rapidly approaching at this rate—and when I got back to my place sleep-deprived and half-dead after a late-night practice session with Stephen Shale, I found a block of texts that was very nearly everything I’d dreamed of—very nearly, just one person away from the one I was thinking of.
ESTELLE FONG
hey houdini!
it’s estelle, from the galley party
any chance I can meet you sometime this week, or are you too busy working on the next great hit?
it’s about helena