Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“And scared?”
“So, fucking scared. I’m too young for this shit, man. They’re going to take my testicle, limiting my chances of being a dad. Of feeling like a man. Like why? What did I do to deserve this?
“That’s not how cancer works,” Quinn states the obvious. “If it was, the world would be rid of all evil.”
“I know,” I mumble.
“Do you have someone to go with you to your appointment?”
I shrug. “Maybe. I hung out with a volunteer today. He’s pretty cool. Stayed by my side when I got the news and made sure I made it back to my car. He gave me his number and I’m supposed to call him when I know my appointment times, and he’ll be there.”
“What about your mom or brother?”
“I don’t plan to tell them. Anytime I talk to her, she wants money. The last thing I want is for them to come here and live off me while I’m going through treatment.”
“Makes sense. What about my parents? You can trust them to not tell Elle if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I shrug. “That would feel odd. They’re her parents, not mine.”
“My mom doesn’t think that way about you, Ben. You know this.”
I nod, but I won’t call them. I can do this alone.
“Nola and I will be there whenever you say the word. We’ll take you to all your appointments, sit with you during chemo or whatever, just say the word. I have nothing going on.”
“You have a career.”
“Eh,” he says with a shrug. “I have a best friend who needs my help. He’s far more important than a couple of song lyrics on a piece of paper. There isn’t a tour on the horizon, and aside from a few days in the studio to record, I’m free.”
“Okay.” I finally relent. “Thank you.”
When Quinn gets up to leave, I walk him to the door. What I don’t expect is the bear hug he gives me before he leaves. “You’re like a brother to me, Ben. You’re not doing this alone.”
7
ELLE
Every time I listen to the tracks recorded at Plum’s session, I start to think I’m sitting on a gold mine. And then doubt creeps in. What if I’m not good enough for them or not doing right by them? They’re going to be huge. They’re going to be the girl group version of Taylor Swift, and I’m just starting out. I wonder if Ryan Stone felt like this when he became the youngest general manager of the Boston Renegades? Whether he felt he wasn’t good enough? What if their stardom far surpasses what I’m capable of?
If my dad were here, he’d kick my ass for thinking so negatively. I’m supposed to manifest greatness. I’m supposed to only see the good in what’s to come, but there’s a nagging voice in the back of my head telling me I’m going to launch Plum’s career and they’re going to take off, leaving me in the wind.
I search for Plum’s folder and once I find it, I open it and peruse the notes I’ve taken since meeting Justine. Plum had been playing at Trixie’s for a few months, and no one talked to them at all. Quinn and I were the first—this bodes well for me—as long as I continue to do right by them. But what if the deal I get them isn’t enough?
Sighing heavily, I close the folder and open my email. Each message I write is tailored to the right manager at the record label. Luckily, with 4225 West owning the studio where my office is, I have the luxury of using their producers. Not to mention, Quinn, who seems to be the jack of all trades when it comes to music. He can sing, play, and produce music. I swear he lucked out in the genes category. So did Peyton. Her skills and knowledge of football when it comes to dissecting the game are exceptionally good. My talent is finding musical artists. Where I struggle is making sure they’re a top ten artist, nominated for Grammys, and getting soundtrack opportunities. I’m not there . . . yet. Uncle Liam says I’m on the cusp of breaking into the big leagues. Thing is, I don’t want to be on the cusp. I want to be over the edge. I want my bands to have long and successful careers. Not only in their industry, but also with me. It would break my heart if one of my bands left me and found success elsewhere because that would mean I failed them, and that’s the last thing I want to do.
After writing the first email, I copy the pertinent information, attach Plum’s demo, and send it off. I try not to let the anxiety build more than it already has, but I can’t help it. I believe in these girls, their sound, and the vibe they carry. Especially when it comes to Justine. There’s just something about her . . . I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe it’s the haunting way she sings a ballad, the way she closes her eyes and transports herself into the heart of a song. It’s even the way light twinkles in her eyes when she’s about to sing the middle 8, whether it leads to a key change or the crescendo that all the fans will want to sing along to. She has superstar written all over her.