Faded (Rock Star Trilogy)

“But if not, then you’re basically going to be Barry’s bitch for the next four years.”
    “FOUR YEARS!” I scream.
    “Yeah,” he says hesitantly. “So you should really consider this before signing. Now, keep in mind, you will be doing well over the next four years. You’ll continue on as you have in your career, and financially, it would be good for you. It really wouldn’t be bad either way, but I know the point of this was to get your freedom.”
    I nod, taking in everything he said.
    “As for now, you know that your contract with them is up right now. You could walk away right now, and never look back.”
    “Could I go with another recording company?” I ask him, already knowing what he’s going to say.
    “Unfortunately not. I wish I had been your lawyer when you originally signed with them. However, I could negotiate for you,” he explains. “If your single goes over well, you record your next CD with them and then after that you would the freedom to do whatever and go wherever you want.”
    “Do you think they would agree to that?” I ask him.
    “There’s only one way to find out, but yes, I think they will,” he nods. “But you should know, from the looks of this contract, they are really expecting you to fail.”
    His statement makes me angry. Not at him, but at my record company. Do they really not believe that I am good enough?
    “Negotiate with them. I don’t want them to make another penny off me after this,” I say angrily.
    “Certainly, Miss Ryan.” He picks up the contract off the table, and tucks it into his briefcase. “I will be in touch. We should probably know something by Wednesday, and then if you’re ready to sign, we will be ready to go.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Matthews.”
    After he walks out of the room, I fall back onto the couch, cover my face with a pillow, and scream.
    Nobody thinks I’m good enough.
    But I know I am.
    Fuck them. I will show them all!
    I grab my guitar and head to my room. I begin writing more songs. I am going to write enough hit songs to fill up the whole damn album!

 
     
    Wednesday, November 5
    8:17 AM
    I hate you.
     
    Since Friday night, things between Stephan and me have been weird. We’ve still beenhanging out, sort of… But our conversations have been minimal. I hate that it has to be like this. I hate that we keep hurting each other.
    Over the weekend I wrote three songs, all of which Alec and Bridgett loved. I have to say… anger and pain brings out the creative side in me. Between being hurt over Stephan and mad at my record company, I was going to have an amazing album in no time. I only hoped that I got a chance to release the album.
    We spent all day Monday and Tuesday in the studio, and today we are going to meet up with my lawyer to go over the details of the contract. I am a little nervous, because as much as I believe in myself I can’t help but think what if . What if I do this and fail? I will spend the next four years of my life being miserable. But on that same note, if I didn’t do it… did it mean that I didn’t believe in myself enough? I couldn’t spend the rest of my life wondering. So I would do it, just to prove to myself, and them, that I am good enough.
    Stephan knows that today is the day that I am signing my contract, so he stayed home from school for moral support. Despite everything, I know he cares about me. And I need him here.
    “We have to fly to LA,” Alec says, as he hangs up his phone. “Barry wants to hear the single before he signs. He says he doesn’t want to waste his time on a flop, so he wants to approve it.”
    I let out a frustrated sigh. “Why? He heard what I had to offer. Why is he making such a big deal about this?”
    “Because he’s a dick wad. We have to be at the airport in an hour, so you better get ready.”
    I go upstairs, fix my hair, and get dressed. If Barry is going to be there, I assume the rest of the board is going to be too. They expect me to dress like I’m about to walk the red carpet at all times. So I put on a dark blue designer dress that I hadn’t worn before and matching heels. My dress was short. A little shorter than I liked, but I knew what the label wanted. Now, more than ever, it was important for me to impress them.
    Stephan’s eyes widen as I walk down the stairs. “Are you wearing that ?”
    I look down at my dress and nod. “Yep.”
    “If you bend over, everybody will see your vagina.”
    I laugh at his comment. “I figured you