Chapter 12
Micah Barrett
Cricket signs us out of the last Zoom meeting, and I let out a long breath. The meetings weren’t as bad as I thought. The music executives were just people, and Cricket took control of each meeting. I barely had to say anything, and she kept her word. We were simply information gathering.
She turns to me, her eyes shining. She’s wearing a nice button-down shirt with a pair of slacks, and I wonder if she bought them for these Zoom calls. I’ve never seen her in this outfit before.
“You got three really great offers. Do you want to talk about them now?”
I nod, feeling a nervous energy pulsing beneath my skin. “Yeah. We can talk about them.”
Cricket pulls out a notepad where she’s been scribbling notes during each call. “Okay, let’s break this down. Sterling Records offered the highest advance. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
I swallow, my pulse racing. “That’s…that’s crazy money.”
“It is. They want to produce every song you’ve put out.
They also want to pair you with their in-house producers to rerecord everything.
They mentioned wanting to ‘polish your sound,’ which could be a good thing, but you might lose some of that raw grit you have right now.
” She bites her lower lip like she can’t decide whether I need more polishing or not.
“What did you think about their talent scout? Kevin?”
Cricket wrinkles her nose. “He kept calling your music ‘cute’ and ‘quaint.’ Like you’re some kind of novelty act.”
“That’s what I thought too. He kind of talked down to me, didn’t he?”
“Exactly.” Cricket flips to the next page of her notes. “Apex Entertainment offered one hundred twenty-five thousand. They have some big names on their roster.”
“Yeah, I recognized a few of those artists. What was with all that talk about image consulting and media training?”
“They want to completely rebrand you. New look, new stage presence, choreographed performances. I know all the big artists are branded, but I’m not sure about it.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to be a manufactured pop star.”
“But I did like how they complimented your sound. I don’t think they wanted to change that at all. And they have deep pockets. They could get you a lot of publicity. They could take you far.”
“I agree. I do think they have more money and more clout in the industry.” I tap my finger against my chin. “So what about Atlantic Coast Records?”
Cricket flips her page again. “Okay, so their advance is only a hundred thousand dollars, but I really liked their team.”
I lean forward. “Yes. I don’t know exactly what it was. Maybe they seemed more genuine, but I really felt like they get me.”
Cricket nods. “I loved how they said your style is already perfect and they don’t want to change it. And they’ll fly you to Nashville to record all of your songs professionally.”
I grip my armrests, getting more excited. “Exactly. They offered complete creative control over my music. I choose the songs, the style. I even have final say on album artwork and music video concepts.”
Cricket looks up from her notes, grinning. “They basically want to be your business partners, not your bosses.”
“And they were very understanding about my anxiety.”
“Yes! I liked how they said they work with lots of artists who don’t mind performing on stage but stay away from social gatherings.”
I run my hands through my hair, feeling a mixture of excitement and relief. “It sounds too good to be true.”
“I know, right? But I did my research on them last night. They have a reputation for nurturing their artists instead of exploiting them. And their artists tend to have longer, more sustainable careers.”
“Fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money to give up though,” I say, thinking about Sterling’s offer.
Cricket sets down her notepad and looks at me seriously. “Micah, what matters more to you? The money or being able to make music your way?”
“Making music my way.”
“Then I think we both know which label you should choose.”
I grin at her.
“Atlantic Coast Records!” we say in unison.
We both burst out laughing.
“Great minds think alike,” Cricket says, reaching over to high-five me.
“Or we’re both crazy for turning down all that extra money.”
“Money isn’t everything. You could make ten times that much if you’re allowed to build your career the way you want to.”
I grab her hands, an electricity running through me. “Cricket, thank you. For everything. For believing in me, for handling those meetings, for helping me see which choice was right. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
She blushes but doesn’t pull her hands away. “That’s what managers are for.”
“No, it’s what best friends are for. And you’re the best one I could ask for.”
An emotion I can’t quite read flickers across her face, but then she smiles. “So, should we call them back and ask to see their contract?”
“Let’s do. But first…” I hesitate. “Do you think I’m making the right choice? Really?”
Cricket squeezes my hands. A zing of something runs up my arms, and I startle.
It feels like attraction, but that’s ridiculous.
I’m not attracted to Cricket. She doesn’t seem to notice.
“Micah, this is your dream. You’re about to become a professional musician with a record deal and creative freedom. How could that be anything but right?”
She makes sense. This is everything I’ve wanted. I try to focus back on what we’re doing. So why do I still feel terrified?
“What if I mess it up?” I ask quietly.
“Then we’ll figure it out together. That’s what we do.”
I nod, feeling some of my anxiety ease. With Cricket by my side, maybe I really can do this.
“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath. “You can call Atlantic Coast Records. I’m ready to look at their terms.”
Cricket makes the call, and fifteen minutes later, we’re sitting on the couch, going over the contract.
“I have no idea what this says,” I admit, a bit overwhelmed by all the pages and legal jargon.
“I think we should have an IP attorney look it over before signing it.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Where are we going to get one of those?”
She blushes. “I’ve already contacted one, actually.”
When I gape at her, she shrugs. “I told you, I’ve been reading about being a manager. This is one thing managers do.”
“Okay, then. Send it to your attorney. How much will that cost?”
“Three or four hundred, depending on how long it takes her to look it over. But that’s the standard rate—I checked. And this will give you the peace of mind that they’re not trying to take advantage of you.”
I nod and lean back against the couch. “Okay.”
Cricket takes over her laptop, and her fingers fly over the keys. “Done.” She stands. “Now I have to get ready for my date.”
I try to smile, but it falters. I really should be the supportive friend, but I’m not feeling very supportive of her and River. “Where are you going?”
She grins at me as she heads toward the stairs. “Depends on how his audition went. I’m not sure yet if he gets to pick the place or I do.”
“If you pick, where are you going?” I call to her.
“The gallery and then out to eat at The Salty Claw.” She disappears up the stairs, and I take in a deep breath.
This is fine. She’s only going out with River again. It’s no big deal. She deserves this. He makes her happy. I saw that clearly last night when they almost kissed.
Guilt floods through me. I interrupted their kiss. I don’t even know why I did that. It was a horrible thing to do. I’m a terrible friend.
I go into the guest bedroom, where I’ve been leaving my guitar even though I moved back home. I’m keeping my recording equipment in Cricket’s basement because it’s quieter. As I look around, I realize I can get my own place soon. I’ll have the money as soon as I sign the contract.
I grab my music notebook so I can finish my song while Cricket is out with Mr. Gorgeous. It’s totally fine she’s going out with him instead of celebrating with me. It’s only the biggest thing that’s ever happened to me.
I close my eyes and shake my head, tossing my notebook down. I should spend the evening reading Cricket’s chapters instead of writing my music. That way, when she comes home, I can talk to her about her writing. She would like that.