Chapter Thirty-Five
Lee
Present Day
“Man, I gotta get out of here.”
I say to Egin.
“I just need some air, I’m gonna walk back.”
“Alright, man, see you tomorrow then.”
As I got up to leave the table, a waitress stopped me, holding a piece of paper on her tray.
“Excuse me, there’s a man at the bar.”
She pointed, “he wants to talk to you before you leave.”
I looked over at the bar and saw a guy facing us on his stool. He’s wearing a leather jacket and cowboy boots, and he tips his ball cap down in a nod.
“He’s not really my type.”
I tell the waitress and start to walk toward the door.
“I don’t think you’re his either.”
She laughs.
“He’s a musician. I think he wants to talk to you about your song or something.”
“Oh, I’m not really interested in …”
I start but am interrupted by a hand on my shoulder. It’s the man from the bar, he must have walked over because he realized I wasn’t coming to him. The waitress walked away, and I was left with the man I didn’t know.
“Hi, I’m Marc Pline.”
He extended his hand for me to shake.
“I’m a music producer.”
He started but then stopped.
“It looks like you’re heading out, can I walk with you and talk? I won’t take up much of your time.”
I nodded and began walking toward the exit. Outside, I breathed in the fresh air and leaned against the building. Marc pulled out a cigarette and lit it, offering me the pack.
“No thanks, I don’t smoke.”
I say and he nods, taking a drag and blowing it out away from me.
“Like I mentioned, I’m Marc Pline and I’m a music producer. I don’t usually make it a point to hang out in bars, especially not on karaoke nights”
he laughed.
“But I’ve been in a slump and am looking for inspiration and new people to collaborate with for an upcoming project. I heard your song and I think you’re on to something with that one.”
He looked at me and took another drag before going on.
“I’d like to share your song with one of my artists and possibly have him record it. What do you think?”
I exhaled sharply, “Damn, I never thought about anything like that.”
I ran my fingers through my hair.
“This is just something I wrote one night, when I couldn’t sleep, it’s nothing special.”
“I think it can be.”
He replied.
“Well.”
I looked out at the water beyond the dock.
“Okay. What the heck. I’ve got nothing to lose here so why not.”
I say and shrug my shoulders.
“Alright then!”
He says, clapping my hand in a shake.
“Here’s my card. The studio’s address is on the back, can you come in tomorrow, 10am?”
“Sure.”
I say as he’s walking away from me backwards.
“See you tomorrow, then.”
He took off his cap and waved it, turning on his heel and walked to the parking lot on the other side of the dock.
I headed back to my apartment with a lighter step in my walk and hummed the melody to Ellie’s song the whole way.
When I put my hand on the doorknob to my apartment, I noticed it was already unlocked and I knew I had locked it before I left. Cautiously, I turned the knob and peered around the open door. Exhaling in relief, I saw the culprit; Dane had passed out in the living room, one arm over his head and legs sprawled out so he was half on and half off the couch. I laughed to myself and tossed the card on the kitchen counter as I headed to my bathroom to shower and wash the musty smell of the bar off of me.
* * *
My alarm went off at 6:00am and I slapped it right off the nightstand. I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night. After I talked with the music producer guy, the thought of putting my song about Ellie out there really got to me.
What if she hears it.
I hope she hears it.
I hope she knows it’s about her.
But it wouldn’t be me singing it and maybe the artist won’t even like it anyways. This is just a meeting to talk about the possibility of turning my words into a song. Nothing more. I tell myself this to keep my nerves at bay.
I grabbed my jeans and threw them on then went out to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. I’m gonna need several cups to get me through this morning.
Dane was sitting up and rubbing his eyes to wake up when I walked into the room.
“Hey man, doin’ ok?”
I asked him.
“Uh, Lee? How’d I get here?”
he asked, confused.
“You tell me, dude. I got back and you we’re passed out on the couch already. You must have used your key to get in.”
“Shit. I guess so.”
He stood up, then sat back down quickly.
“Yeah, maybe you should just lay low for the day and sleep – whatever this – is off.”
I said, waving my hand up and down at him.
“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”
He said looking up.
“Is that coffee?”
“Yup, fresh brewed, here, I’ll get you a cup.”
I brought him one of my big white coffee cups full of strong black coffee and waved it in front of his nose.
“Thanks, man.”
He took the cup and drank a big swig.
I walked back to the kitchen to fix my own cup.
“I have a meeting at 10:00 but I don’t have anything else on my plate today. When I get back, you and I can figure out what’s going on. Okay?”
“Okay, yeah. That sounds good.”
He puts his head down.
“Thanks, Lee.”
“No problem, buddy.”
I tell him and I pick up the business card for Pline Records from the counter.
At 9:50, I open the big glass door to the office building at the address from the back of the business card and I’m greeted by a bubbly receptionist.
“Good morning!”
She says, with a little too much enthusiasm.
“How can I help you?”
“Hi, I’m supposed to have a meeting with Marc Pline at 10:00.”
I tell her.
“Sure, and what’s your name?” she asks.
“Lee. Lee McCormick.”
“Just a moment, Mr. McCormick.”
She picks up her phone and speaks into the receiver, “Mr. Pline, I have a Lee McCormick here to see you. Okay. Will do.”
She hangs up and looks back at me.
“Mr. Pline will be right out; you can have a seat.”
She gestures to the waiting area by a window.
I sit down and watch a few music videos that play on the TV in the lobby. Ten minutes later, an office door opens, and Marc Pline walks out with a big smile plastered on his face and his hand extended.
“Lee! I’m so glad you made it.”
I stood and shook his hand.
“Come on, I want to introduce you to someone.”
We walk through a dimly lit hallway and into a small recording studio where there’s a man with a guitar sitting in front of a microphone. Marc pushes a button and says into a speaker, “Shawn, come on out here for a second, I want you to meet someone.”
The man, Shawn, comes out of the studio and shakes my hand and says to Marc, “Is this him? The guy who wrote our new hit song?”
Marc smiles at me and claps my back, “This is Lee. Lee, I’d like you to meet Shawn. I sent him your song last night after we talked and he called me right away and told me he wanted to come in and lay it out this morning. We’ve been working on a few versions and added some lyrics, would you like to hear it?”
I’m speechless.
This is moving fast.
“Yeah.”
I say and I sit back with a huge grin on my face while this man strums his guitar and sings my words just like I thought them. Just like I felt them. There was a new verse added and I liked it, I actually really liked it. I was nodding my head when Shawn and Marc came out and stood in front of me.
“What do you think, Lee?”
Marc asked.
“Yeah. It’s great. Amazing!” I say.
“Sweet!”
Shawn high fives me.
“I want to send this track to the radio stations this afternoon.”
Marc tells me.
“Wow! That’s really fast.”
I’m a little taken aback.
“The music industry works on speed and the next big song waits for no one.”
He tells me.
“I just have some forms for you to look over for the legal bits to this deal.”
His assistant hands him a folder and he pulls out a few sheets of paper, laying them out on the coffee table in front of me.
“Now, you own the rights to this song because you wrote it and this here says that as well as that you give permission for Pline Records to record, produce and sell it. You will receive ten percent of every record that sells with this song on it for the next twenty years.”
He explained, then pointed to the next paper.
“This here says that Pline Records will pay a one-time fee of $75,000 to you, Lee McCormick, for the right to record, produce and sell this song. And if you agree to those terms,” he points to the last paper on the table, “This last one here gives permission for Pline Records’ artist, Shawn Lane, to record said song.”
He handed me a pen and I signed all three papers. Afterwards, Mr. Pline handed me an envelope with a check for $75,000 and shook my hand.
“Thank you for inspiring me, Lee. I think this song is really great; it captures the pain of heartbreak and the struggle to move on in a heartfelt way – it’s really going to resonate with our listeners. And … if you don’t mind my saying … I think you ought to just go out and find this woman from your song. Empty your heart out. You just might be surprised at the outcome.”
He pats my back.
“Heck, maybe she’ll hear it on the radio and memories will be sparked. I know they hit me pretty good last night.”
He stood and walked with me to the lobby. At the door, he said, “When your words can bring someone back to a specific day and make them remember exactly how they felt, that’s somethin’ special, kid.”
He smiled and shook my hand, then he told me if I write anything else I think he might be interested in to just give him a call and we would work something out.
I left the office park feeling incredible – amazing – and full of hope. I swear I’m going to find you, Ellie! One of these days, I’m going to find you and I pray that you have waited for me.