Chapter Six – A.J
May our hearts be full like our drinks tonight
May we sing and dance till we lose our minds
We are only young if we seize the night
We Own the Night - The Wanted
“We’re killing it!” Daniele’s smile lights up the whole meeting room at the Sheraton Lisboa, and right next to her, on the projector, is Victor with a glorious little grin.
Just like he was the one responsible for our success.
“Oh my God, guys. It’s almost unbelievable.
” My best friend shakes her head in disbelief.
It’s more than unbelievable.
When our first album flopped, it wasn’t our parents who stepped in to comfort us and figure out how to turn things around – it was Dani.
She made it her personal mission to make the band go viral on TikTok.
She was sure this strategy would change everything.
And I’ll admit, we laughed a little. But the followers started coming, the numbers went up, our songs became trends, and the shows started filling up.
Months later, Victor called us in for a meeting at his office in L.A.
We went prepared to argue why we shouldn’t be fired.
After all, TikTok was working. But when we got there, our schedule was full for the next seven months, and it really hit us when he announced that we’d be performing on SNL as “the band that blew up on TikTok.”
So, sitting in a meeting with the owner of our band two years later, discussing marketing actions for our first song, which hit the top 30 on its release, is way more than unbelievable; it’s like living a dream.
“I guess for us it’s hard to believe.” Richard leans over the table. “But you fought for the band when everyone else had already given up. I don’t think it’s a surprise to you, Shorty.” The nickname makes her smile and look away. Richard smiles back, scratching his unshaved chin.
I don’t understand how Guilherme doesn’t see that these two have something going on.
“I always knew you’d be huge, Big Bear.” Dani throws back a nickname and winks at Rick. The sound of Victor clearing his throat pulls them out of their trance.
Seems like even he knows about them, and Guilherme doesn’t.
“I guess the flowers for believing in you when no one else did are mine too, huh?” our boss mocks.
“Not today, Victor.” Thomas chimes in with a light jab. “You didn’t even want Maybe on streaming to avoid labeling the band by our time in Brazil.”
“It wasn’t smart to put a song in a language you guys don’t sing in on the band’s digital platforms.” He responds firmly.
“But you guys were right, top 30 globally with a song that half of it’s sung in Portuguese.
That’s insane.” He admits, his face flushed and lets out a slight sigh as he sees another person joining us in the meeting.
“You guys are a success, Alex is a success, everyone won.”
I think about saying that it doesn’t feel like everyone won, since he not only didn’t believe in Maybe , but also ignored it when it went viral worldwide and only caved when he realized he was losing a lot of money by not having it on streaming.
“Good morning, boys. Sorry I’m late. Our first topic today is the shows that haven’t sold out yet.” Paola, Victor’s personal assistant and girlfriend, tries to cover for her man. “We want to know if you or Dani have any suggestions.”
“Welcome, Paola. We’re still talking about Maybe.
” Guilherme points out. “We need to be careful with these releases, it took us so long to get on streaming, now we have to keep taking down live versions people upload as podcast episodes just so they can hear the biggest hit of the year.” Guilherme expresses my frustration in a more polite way, but no less impactful.
“There wasn’t any delay, Almeida.” Paola laughs, flipping her gray hair like she’s in a shampoo commercial. “We needed to understand if fans worldwide had approved the song, or if it was just the Brazilian ones. The second case would be a big fuss over nothing.”
“We didn’t delay? So, we have our biggest release, and we’ll never know its full potential because people were already listening to it elsewhere, but the company is sure it did the right thing by holding back the song?”
“Business can’t be emotional, Guilherme.” Victor answers impatiently.
“Yeah, guys. We can’t be emotional. Maybe is probably our biggest hit and almost didn’t go to streaming because of our boss’s ego.
” Richard concludes with a slight sneer in his husky voice.
“Is this the problem with the boy bands you guys kept talking about?” he mocks, and Victor takes a deep breath, squirming uncomfortably.
“Exactly, Richard. The good thing about owning a brand is that you don’t have to explain everything you do with it.” He says with no guilt in his voice.
“Good thing the Vagabonders worldwide fought for the song then, right?” I break the tense atmosphere growing in the room, and Dani opens her mouth before Victor does.
“Alright, guys. The song’s finally out, and it’s a hit.” My best friend interrupts the discussion. “And, if I may suggest something, Paola, I think it would be great to have Maybe recorded in English. All in English, I mean. What do you think, Victor?”
“I think I was right to bring you into the meeting, we can always count on our fifth member for the most useful ideas.” Victor winks with a half-smile, and Richard’s neck cracks so loudly, his jealousy is palpable. “But where’s our golden ticket?” he asks, aware that Alexandra isn’t in the room.
“There’s no way we can record this song on the road, Victor.” I laugh at the absurdity. “We’d have to pull an all-nighter in the studio adapting the lyrics and…”
“You’re not recording, A.J., she’s the one singing in Portuguese.
But we need to know if Alexandra wants to sing the song in another language and how she feels about adapting the lyrics to French and Spanish so you can sing them during the tour.
” Victor lists and sighs tiredly, as if I should know this.
“And no matter how much you ask, these versions will only be for the live shows.”
“Makes sense.” Paola ponders.
“Which shows haven’t sold out yet?” Daniele asks, but she’s not looking at us, she’s writing something in her idea notebook on the table.
“Paris and Madrid still need to sell out, three out of the eight shows outside of festivals.”
“Paris in two weeks and Madrid in three, right?” Dani asks, still scribbling, and we confirm. “The song in the local language will be good marketing, and you” – she points at me – “will take Alexandra somewhere very simple but famous, like a café. No disguises this time, you’ll go as tourists.”
“I’m not sure I like that.” Victor comments, scratching his ear. “He’s our die-hard bachelor.”
“We want to sell tickets or not?” Daniele asks, as if he’s stepping into her territory.
“Make One Last Kiss the biggest act of the night.” Victor smiles with a smirk, suggesting with every unspoken word that Alexandra and I sell ourselves to sell tickets.
“I’m your singer, Victor. But my personal life isn’t your business.”
“Sure. It was just a comment.” My boss laughs as if I’m seeing things where there’s nothing, but I’m not joking.
The last thing I need is another douchebag manager.
“Paola will get in touch with Thalia with the documents for the new versions of the song, and you guys, please, find Alexandra.” Victor asks, but it’s an order. “She’ll need to work on the versions of this song as soon as possible.”
“I already messaged her, Victor. You want me to go grab her? Her room’s just nine floors from here.” Richard sighs, and Victor shakes his head with the same friendliness our drummer shows.
“Alright, let’s talk about the extra shows in Cork and London.” Victor uses the plural and surprises us, until this morning we were only expecting one more show, in Lomdon.
It’s still insane to think that, after selling out seventeen shows in Brazil, most of them in stadiums, we arrived in Europe in festivals and pretty big venues and, although some places still have tickets available, in others the demand was so high that we’ll have more shows.
Victor goes over everything we need with us, and he and Paola leave the call with new ideas to discuss with the marketing team.
“These two are such dicks.” I murmur, turning my cap backward.
“They are.” Guilherme says reluctantly, and I stare at him with Daniele and our two bandmates. “But if something was going on between you and Alex, you would’ve told us, right?” Gui asks quietly, and Daniele laughs, on the other side of the screen, mockingly.
In her head, I’m giving way too much attention to a woman I don’t want to get with, and that’s new. I laugh at his apprehensive tone, because Guilherme, of all people in the world, is the one who shouldn’t doubt me when I talk about friendship with women.
“Come on, before we go to Brazil, when I spent days and nights glued to your sister, did you think I was hooking up with her?” I ask, scratching my unshaven beard, and he instinctively throws a pen at me.
“A.J.!” Daniele yells in shock.
“Gross, you guys are like, her brothers.” Guilherme shudders, getting up.
“We’re not.” Richard protests way too quickly.
“I know you’re not, but it’d be weird, she’s my little sister.”
“Oh my God!” Daniele sighs exasperated. “The ‘I miss you’ thing for you is over, Guilherme. Goodbye.” She says irritably and hangs up without saying goodbye to anyone else. Richard and I exchange looks, feeling neglected by our girl.
“Man, Dani’s in her last year of college.” Thomas laughs at how Guilherme talks about his sister, and our lead singer even opens his mouth to say something else, but the phone on the table vibrates, and we all know this conversation is over when we see the name “Sweet little thing” on the screen.
With a nod, I leave the room and pull my phone out of my pocket.
Me: I already know which tourist spot we’re going to in Lisbon.
I type the message in Portuguese, like the good student I’ve been.