42. The Taste of Ink #3
Eli crosses his arms. “You don’t get many nights like that. First time in LA? First time on Sunset? Burn that shit into your heads,” he taps his temple, “‘cause it never feels like the first time again.”
The blond has his head in both hands,
eyes wide. “This is insane.”
“Yeah,” Eli agrees, eyes swinging to me, then back to them. “You know why you and me are sittin’ in this green room right now?”
The guys pass looks back and forth, when Eli jerks a thumb at me. “All her.” He crouches to their level, big-brother serious. “This is Allison Taylor—songwriter, producer, future CEO for the label I’m under. Flew all the way from New York for you guys.”
The drummer lets out a low whistle.
The rest of them whisper to each other.
Noah’s barely moved an inch.
Eli holds up his hands in surrender. “True story. She believed in you enough to put you on that stage tonight, and she’s the only reason I’m standing in front of you guys right now. Because when Allison Taylor says a band’s worth the trip, I believe her. You should too.”
He squints at them,
his hair falling into his eyes.
“So word of advice? Don’t waste this moment. She don’t gamble on losers, and right now, she’s the only person you can trust. She gets it. She’ll cut herself open for you. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
He slaps the table once,
pushes up to his feet.
“Alright, Allison, I’ll leave y’all to it.”
He leans in, mouth near my ear in passing. “You’re right. They’re fuckin’ good. Text me soon as you leave this room.”
After the door shuts behind him,
the band’s shock shifts to me.
Noah wipes his palms down the front of his jeans. “You’re tellin’ me… you’re gonna be CEO of Soundwave?”
I ease back on the arm of the couch.
“Yeah, next year,” I say.
“But until then? I’m here. For you.”
Noah shakes his head, a laugh slipping out. “C’mon. Look at you—you’re what, twenty-somethin’?”
“Twenty-four,” I say.
One of them whistles low.
“Okay,” Noah nods, “twenty-four. Sayin’ you’ll be CEO of a whole-ass record label.
Sayin’ you dropped stacks for four fuckups from Ashland to land on this stage.
And then flew cross-country just to see us?
Bringin’ Eli Stone.” He runs a hand through damp hair, still trying to process, looking around at his guys.
“That’s—I don’t… I don’t get it. I mean…
thank you, seriously. But c’mon. Why us?
Why you? Why now? That shit don’t add up. ”
His eyes cut back to me, and his chin tips up. “What’re you gettin’ outta this?”
I picture Raymond in my spot. The smirk, the smoke and mirrors, talking contracts, dollar signs, percentages, the illusion of family. He’d bleed them out before they even touched the stage.
I lift my shoulders.
“I want you,” I tell him.
“All of you—Sunset Decay.”
My eyes fall back on Noah.
He’s carrying a world of insecurity and suspicion in his green eyes.
My nails dig into the cushion behind me, nerves chewing me alive, and I don’t even know why.
All I have is honesty.
“Your heart—that’s what’s pulling me. Watching you up there?
You showed me the map I’ve been looking for.
The direction I want for Soundwave when it’s in my hands.
” Noah’s a breathing statue as I hold his stare.
“It’s simple. Your music is honest and fresh.
It makes me feel so many things, and I want the whole world feeling all that with me. ”
And right now, it’s their hearts I feel pounding in this room, half-thinking I’m bullshitting, half-thinking this is the first time anyone’s called them good.
“Truth is, I wanna sign you right now.
“‘Cause I could.
“I have the power to do it.”
The blond one mutters “Holy shit.”
“But I won’t,” I tell them, scanning their unpoisoned faces. Not while the wrong hands are still on the label. I need a year. ‘Cause I’d rather fuck myself over than fuck you over.”
It’s not a lie.
This could backhand me any second.
“Before you walked into Venom, nobody knew your name. The second you leave this room? Everyone will know Sunset Decay.”
The drummer grins,
shaking his head as if I’m lying.
The bassist’s eyes go wide,
still pointed at the floor.
“Doors you don’t even know exist are about to swing open. Every vulture’s gonna circle. They’ll make offers. Mostly a mouthful of lies to get you to sign. Some might sound like a no-brainer or too good to pass up. And yeah, I might lose you to one of ‘em after pullin’ this off.
“Might’ve screwed myself.
“But I won’t screw you. Never you.”
That’s why I wanted Eli here,
so my words weren’t empty.
They wouldn’t’ve known me,
but I knew they’d know him.
The seriousness of the moment lands in Noah’s eyes, and I hold his gaze so he sees the honesty in mine.
“I did this to prove one thing:
“I’ll put the band first.
“Above me.
“Above my success.
“‘Cause I want you all to win.
“With or without me.”
I stand taller.
“But I hope you choose with me.
“And if you do,
“over these next twelve months
“when those vultures come—
“and they will—
“say my name. Allison Taylor.
“Watch how fast they back the fuck off.
“‘Cause they know I’m the only one in this world who’ll do right by you.
“And if you’re under my wing?
“They can’t take advantage of you.
“And that’s not a pitch.
“That’s fact.”
When the green room door shuts behind me, it’s only me and the empty hall—black paint, carpet sticky, EXIT sign buzzing, bass pounding through the walls, muffled like a heartbeat in the next room.
At first, I stand.
Just stand.
Too shocked to let the good out.
And then I melt.
“Yes,” I choke out,
the word clawing out of me,
part laugh, part cry.
“Yes. Yes.”
I clap a hand over my mouth,
laugh inside it, shaking my head.
But the laugh dies wet behind my palm.
Then the tears come,
hot, stinging,
rolling fast down my face.
My back slides down the wall,
legs folding under me,
lungs pulling in shallow, shaky breaths.
My body’s all nerves,
all sparks,
all stupid happiness.
And I can’t stop shaking,
covering my smile with both hands.
“I fucking pulled it off,” I whisper into my palms. “Dad, can you hear me?… I can fucking do this…”
I tip my head back against the wall,
vision blurry.
The tears keep sliding.
First time in years something’s gone right, and my body doesn’t know how to react.
The second I can breathe again,
my hand’s in my clutch,
my shaky fingers digging for my phone.
Because I don’t want Celie, or Eli…
I want Andrew.
The first name my chest says when joy hits.
The same one it says when it hurts.
He’s the only one
I want to share this with.
I stare down at my screen.
At his number.
For a split second, I hesitate.
Then I hit the call button.
The phone rings.
And rings.
Then—
drops me into voicemail.
My thumb hovers the red button,
on the edge of hanging up,
when the beep cuts me open.
I swallow, let out another shaky exhale,
bringing the phone back to my ear.
“Uh-hey. It’s me…”
My voice snaps on me,
and I clear my throat.
“Allison. Taylor.
“Allison Jane Taylor.
“In case your phone’s full of us.”
My hand shakes hard
as my words tumble out.
“I’m sittin’ in some hallway at Venom,
“probably lookin’ pathetic.”
I let out a low chuckle, wipe my face.
“But I... yeah.
“I found this band. Got ‘em here.
“And—fuck,
“I didn’t think I could pull it off, Drew.
“Didn’t think I could do this CEO thing without fuckin’ that up too…
“But I see it.
“I see the vision I want for it so bad.
“And maybe…” I shrug. “I dunno, maybe I won’t run Soundwave into the ground.”
My breath’s embarrassing,
blowing ragged into the phone.
“They said they’d wait for me.
“They trust me. Thanks to Eli,
“the reason he flew out…”
Another smile breaks on my wet face.
“Can’t wait for you to hear ‘em.”
Silence clings to the seconds.
Only the bass pulses in the background.
“Anyway. Yeah…
“You’re the first person I wanted to tell.”