Track 1
The following excerpts include transcripts fromOut of Tune: The Truth According to Wesley Hart and Avery Sloane. This documentary remains the last commentary either artist has given on their careers since February 2026.
In 2009, the boyband Fool’s Gambit had an unprecedented rise to fame, stealing hearts on an international scale. But there was another story that the public watched with bated breath.
Martin Hall, producer for Fool’s Gambit, sits in his home studio. Once a rock star in his own right, Hall is renowned for catapulting the careers of young artists.
Martin:Fool’s Gambit was my best experiment. Fucking shame they called it quits after five years. If you ask me, they could still be going. You put a girl like that with all those boys? Of course there will be problems. Don’t have to take my word for it. We’ve all seen the pictures.
A photo of Avery Sloane and Wesley Hart from a late night recording session. They’re slumped together, having fallen asleep during what would be one of the final days working on their first album,Fools for You. The picture was taken by Evelyn Mariano, younger sister of former drummer Luca “Drew” Mariano.
Evelyn:You want to know what happened between Wes and Avery? They were close. Closer than I’ve probably seen any two people. She didn’t get any credit on their first album but she was right there working as hard as the rest of them. People always say Avery only has her career because of Fool’s Gambit. Sure, they invited her to tour with them starting with their Vegas show, but the band wouldn’t have gotten out of my parent’s garage without her.
A phone call with Luca Mariano, who after being asked to comment on Wesley Hart gave this statement and refused to continue.
Luca:I know what he did, I saw it. We all fucking saw it. Even if I knew why, do you think I’d tell you?
Jared Petrov, former rhythm guitarist, holds a toddler as he sits in his family home.
Jared:Sometimes you don’t realize things are falling apart until it’s too late.
Garrett Larson, former bassist, at his desk at Holt & Walker Law Firm.
Garrett:Do you know what mithridatism is? It’s when you slowly dose yourself with poison to build an immunity. But sometimes the accumulation becomes toxic, and instead of becoming a last line of defense, it kills you.
Garrett:That’s what they were to each other. Poison.
Avery Sloane flashes a smirk into the camera as she adjusts her microphone.
Avery: Do I have this thing on right?
Avery:Of course that’s what you want to know. That’s what everyone wants to know. I’ll give you the answer: yes. Ten years ago, I broke up the band.
Avery:But before that? I stood by them through everything, and they stood by me too.
Avery
August 2009
“God, you must be shit at your job if you don’t even know who the opening act is.” Sure, antagonizing the man guarding the door leading to backstage with biceps bulging against his sleeves wasn’t the best way to get what I wanted. But after a major flight delay in Dallas on my trip from my grandparents’ place in Connecticut to Vegas and the general anxiety that’s been building in my gut for the last eight months waiting for this moment to finally perform with Fool’s Gambit, I was certifiably in a bad mood. “I need to get backstage.”
“You and every other girl who has come up and asked.” He glanced at the carpeted floor and smirked, eyeing my luggage and guitar case. “Though you seem a bit more delusional than the rest, bringing all this shit like you’re ready to move in.”
My teeth ground together as I failed to contain my simmering temper. Yes, I got that my best friends had tens of thousands of people desperate for their attention. Fame claimed them over night, but I was there with them when we were all rehearsing in a garage and using fake IDs to play gigs at dive bars. I earned myplace onstage with them and after everything I endured, I wasn’t going to let some asshole who sucked at his job get in my way.
“Hey! Clarke, is everything all right over there?” someone called and the guard—Clarke, apparently—swiveled his head toward his buddy.
That act gave me the smallest opening between his bulky mass and the door. It was my chance, and I took it. I lunged for the handle. As it swung open, the door rammed into Clarke causing him to release a sharp bark of surprise.
“Stop!” he yelled, but I was already through. I raced down the hall, crew members toting cables and clipboards, the wheels of my suitcase rattling behind me.
I just needed to find someone who would recognize me. Ideally Wes, but any of the other band members, Jared, Luca, Garrett, or even Martin, the band’s manager, would do. Clarke was close, throwing curses at me as he closed the rapidly shrinking gap between us.
I turned the corner and pushed into the nearest room. I staggered inside and locked the door, my back slamming hard against the thick slab of wood. My chest heaved and my lungs burned as I squeezed my eyes shut.
Shit. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Things would have gone so much easier if we could have advertised my name for the final leg of Fool’s Gambit’s North American tour, but I just turned eighteen today, finally able to sign all the necessary paperwork without the support of my grandparents. Who knows what they’d do if they knew, and they could do plenty. They had power as the leaders of Sloane Holdings and respectable members of high society with endless connections. They were prepared to do anything they needed to stop me from becoming a “trashy rockstar” and utter disappointment, following in the footsteps of my father.
My throat tightened as I thought of him. It had been nearly a year since the accident, and it still didn’t feel real. If he was still here none of this would be happening. But it was and I had to accept that he’s gone and wouldn’t be upfront cheering for me the way I know he’d want to.
