Chapter 14
CASSIE
“It’s our most requested song at the moment.
How does that make you feel, Cassie?” Levi Frasier pins me with his dark eyes across the console between us.
Behind his head, the On Air sign is bright and red and a little distracting because it took me a second to figure out what it said, and now I keep checking I was right, even though I, of course, should know what it means just from context alone.
But my brain’s been pretty distracted today, and I’m trying not to think about why.
“Oh, that’s great to hear,” I say, pasting a beam of a smile on my face. “It means a lot to me that your listeners love it.”
“I think they do,” Levi says. “And I hear you’re having a launch party tonight. Will Pia be there too?”
I swallow and turn my head to look through the glass at Kevin, who’s sitting in the adjoining room. He has a frown on his face, but offers me a tentative, singular thumbs up before putting his hands back on his hips. “Yes, I believe so.”
“Oh, you don’t know for certain?” Levi enquires, and now his warm smile feels a little more mischievous. “I have noticed she’s not doing as much of a press tour as yourself.”
Nothing, I think. She’s done nothing as part of the press tour. She’s left it all to me, and I don’t know how I feel about that.
Actually, that’s a lie. I know exactly how I feel about it.
Abandoned. Rejected. Alone.
“Pia is busy getting ready to go on Femme Fatale’s world tour,” I answer tactfully.
“Will the rest of your band be there tonight? At the launch party? The Femme Fatale boys too?”
I glance at Kevin again, but he’s rubbing his forehead with his hand and avoiding my eye contact.
“I … I think so…”
“Can we expect more fireworks like at the Grammys?”
“Tonight’s party is about the song. About ‘What I Want.’” I clarify. I wish Pia was here. She would shut down this nonsense in a heartbeat.
I wish Pia was here for lots of other reasons too, but I really am doing my best to not dwell on those.
“And you wrote the song together?”
“Yes, we did.” I lean closer to the mic and adjust the headphones on my ears. They’re hot and heavy. “Along with Theo Kalpiatis. But it was important to both Pia and me that we had some influence over the song’s … direction.”
“Tell me more,” Levi says while looking elsewhere and pressing a series of buttons, suggesting that he doesn’t really want to hear more. But I’m not going to turn down this opportunity.
“At its heart, ‘What I Want’ is a song about what women want. And it’s about women standing up for what they want, not being afraid to name it and claim it,” I say, recalling only too easily Pia’s monologue before she stormed out of the recording studio that day.
“I don’t think women are encouraged to go after what they want enough.
So our song will hopefully inspire that. ”
This finally has Levi’s attention. “So it’s a feminist song?”
“No,” I say instinctively, and then I pause, and I can almost feel my brain recalibrate. “Well, yes, it is. But that’s not a bad thing.”
“Do we even need feminist anthems these days?” Levi says with a chuckle that feels a little condescending.
“It’s almost 1980. Aren’t we supposed to be in a post-feminist era or something now?
I mean, the fact that you and Pia Lindberg are the leading ladies of two of the most successful bands in the world should prove that point. ”
I take a moment and very deliberately don’t look at Kevin as I cross my legs and consider my words. “I don’t think that proves anything. Pia and I are … easy on the eye, let’s say. I don’t think either of us is na?ve enough to think that we would be where we are if we weren’t.”
“Are you saying that the only reason you’re where you are is because … sex sells?” Levi challenges.
I ignore the heat in my cheeks. “I’m saying we still need songs about women standing up for what they want and not being judged or only listened to because of their … physical or aesthetic merits.”
Levi takes his own moment to pause. He then levels another firm stare on me. “But surely, as arch-rivals, what a woman like you wants and what a woman like Pia Lindberg wants are very different things?”
It feels like an ice cube is sliding up my spine as I straighten in my chair. “I think you’d be surprised how much Pia and I have in common. How we both want many of the same things.”
Levi tilts his head to the side. “Care to elaborate?”
I try to bite back a real, genuine smile as I pick my words very, very carefully. “I think it’s there, in the song. You just have to listen closely.”
“I see.” Levi turns his attention back to the console in front of him. “And of course, I have to ask, is this song evidence that you’re getting ready to launch your own solo career?”
A knock on the glass window grabs both of our attention. Kevin’s glare looks like it could burn two holes through the glass.
“Absolutely not,” I say quickly. “I still have lots more to do with Evergreene.”
“Even though Stephan is now expecting a baby with his girlfriend back home in England?” Levi slips in, ignoring a second tap from Kevin and another from his own producer. His tone is slimy and sneaky as he continues. “That must have been a blow for you, Cassie.”
“I’m here to talk about ‘What I Want,’” I remind Levi as calmly as I can. I don’t think Levi is a bad person or even a bad radio DJ. In fact, these questions sort of prove that he’s very good at his job of being a “shock jock,” I just wish I had it in me to silence him completely.
With a huff that I suspect is supposed to represent defeat but actually sounds incredibly smug, Levi flicks a switch, and the piano intro to our song starts. “Well, let’s listen to the song in question now, shall we? This is ‘What I Want’ by Cassie Everard and Pia Lindberg.”
“You did good,” Kevin says as he looks out of the window. We’re driving through Koreatown, towards West Hollywood where the launch party is being held in a bar on Santa Monica Boulevard. “And sales are looking good. Should be top ten. Possibly top five.”
I nod as I gaze out of my own window. But it’s all a blur. As are my feelings about where we’re headed.
“It’s a shame Pia couldn’t be with you for any of it, but maybe it was a blessing,” he says, and I finally turn my head. He pins me with a pointed look before adding, “You know what she’s like.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well…” He shifts in his seat, the leather squeaking underneath him. “She’s a bit of a loose cannon. Isn’t she? And with DJs like Levi Frasier that could easily backfire.”
“So, I’m the safe people-pleaser who can manage men’s prying? Got it.” I return my gaze to the world outside the limo window.
His silence tells me I’m right. It also tells me I was an idiot for thinking Pia would show for at least one of the interviews.
That’s not what she does. She doesn’t do what she’s asked unless she wants to.
And even though I was sure my Polaroid response to hers would get me some kind of reaction, some kind of contact, I was wrong. Wrong and so damn foolish.
“That’s not what I meant, Cassie,” he says and reaches out to touch my arm, which is not like him at all.
By the time I’m looking at where his fingers brush my elbow, they’re gone.
“I just … Like I’ve said before, this is a great opportunity for you to prove what you can do without Steph and the boys.
I really do see a long and very successful solo career in your future. ”
“Then why am I not allowed to talk about that?”
“Because … the label doesn’t need to know yet. Even with your break clause, let’s keep them happy for now. Besides, now’s not the right time. This year is tied up with the tour, and I think the right thing to do is give Haven one more album.”
“One more album,” I repeat softly. It sounds so simple and so impossible.
“I know you’ve been working on songs,” he says. “Clarence told me some of it’s really good too.”
I smile at that. “Clarence and I work well together.”
“Bringing him in was the best decision I’ve made,” Kevin says, and I give him a look. “We made. Right, that we made. He’s a voice of reason in the band.”
“So there’s just one?” I keep staring at him.
“Right, another voice of reason. Shit, sorry, I … Look, I’m nervous about tonight.
I have it on good authority that all the Femme Fatale muppets are going to be there, and even though Melissa is apparently also coming, which should keep Stephan in line, I can’t help but worry the wheels will come off again. ”
“Well, I guess it will sell more records.” I shrug.
“But it’s your night. You and Pia.”
I blink as those three words echo in my mind. Me and Pia. Me and Pia.
“You’re going soft in your old age.” I reach over to poke his arm.
“Maybe…” He sighs as the car rolls to a stop. “Or maybe I’ve just had enough of babysitting grown men who should know better.”
“You and me both,” I say, and I move to get out of the car.
“Cass.” He reaches out a hand, stopping me.
“Just do me a favour and try to make sure you get some good photos with Pia tonight. The two of you, together. You don’t need to be touching or smiling – God knows she probably won’t be – but just the pair of you in a few pics, that would sell just as many records as a bar brawl and would have a lot less fallout for me. ”
“I’ll do my best,” I say as I press a hand to my stomach that has not stopped swirling around on itself all damn day.
“They’re late. All of them,” Kevin says as he rushes past Clarence and me. We’re standing in a corner of the bar, specifically sectioned off for VIPs, apparently. I’m just grateful to have a bit of breathing space and the comfort of Clarence standing by my side.
“Oh, dear,” Clarence says slowly, and perhaps with a hint of mischief in his tone.