“You keep this up until the albums release and you get what you’ve been dying to have for almost a decade,” Dana states.
“Glambam promised me they’d buy my masters if I can hit asales goal,” I tell her firmly.
That’s not the whole truth, but it’s the truth.
“Hmm.” Dana unlocks her phone and begins to scroll. “I wonder if your fans would like to knowhowyou’ve been working towards that. Maybe they’d like to see screenshots of the text messages between your manager and the rest of your team discussing just how much physical contact they can persuade you and Riff to engage in”—she turns her screen around to show me a conversation between Stefanie and Jared—“or better yet, a copy of the contract between Glambam and the photographer hired to document your ‘impromptu’ beach date.” With the screen still facing me, she swipes right to reveal a miniature copy of said contract. “Maybe they’d like to read your social media report”—she swipes again—“including notes that highlight an uptick in engagement whenever your name and Riff’s are mentioned together, and which advise you both to ‘keep up the good work.’”
My fingers curl instinctively, tightening around the cool glasses in my hands. I imagine myself shattering the drinks, liquid everywhere, some of it my own blood.
What am I supposed to say to that? My instinct is to deny it, to pretend I don’t know what she’s talking about, but she has all the details. Someone at Glambam must have been helping her, and that means that this isn’t a bluff; she can leak this at will.
The question is …
“How do you benefit from trying to damage my career? My success means more sales for you too. Every time I drop a new album, it eventually ripples back toBrightly BurningandNebulous. You want to hurt my sales? You’ll also hurt streaming numbers and syncs on those old tracks.”
“Which is exactly why I came to you first, instead of sharing what I know. It would be very easy to get what I want on behalfof FM Sound simply by exposing your elaborate lies. All those fans who find you so … genuine and relatable … would see that you’re a fraud, and they’d destroy you online, and they’d boycott your music. You wouldn’t meet your sales goal—not even close—and Glambam wouldn’t follow through on their promise. No masters for you.”
“It would be even easier to just pull the masters off the market. You’ve done it before,” I say.
“Yes, but we can’t have you blocking sync deals again, or refusing to perform the songs so that they become irrelevant.”
“Because your threat to take away my chance at having them was all you had keeping me in line, and if you make good on that threat, I have no reason to play nice …”
“More importantly, you’ve done a fantastic job publicizing the bad blood between you and FM Sound, vilifying the label in the press—”
“Baiting and harassing your former artists is villain behavior at its fucking finest,” I hiss.
If we weren’t surrounded by people (however inattentive they may be at the moment) this is probably where she’d slap me.
“FM Sound plucked you from obscurity,” she says through her teeth, “and made you what you are. The label deserves credit for that, and it deserves to keep the masters we helped you create.”
“And to profit from them ‘in perpetuity’?”
She sneers. “We know a change in their price or availability would be terrible PR, so naturally we’d prefer to avoid that.”
Makes sense. FM Sound is a record label, not a private investment firm; they need talent to be profitable, and they have to look appealing to artists who can sell records.
“Oh, are good artists afraid to work with you now? I can’t imagine why.”
“I know you think you’re some kind of goddess among us, and that you’ve done it all on your own, but plenty ofLucky Starscontestants don’t see fame beyond their handful of onscreen performances. You could still be peddling homemade EPs and dragging yourself to open mic nights. FM Sound gave you a chance.”
“And I gave them something to sell.”
“We recognize the value in that. Logically, you can see why we’d want to hold onto our investment. In short, yes, harming you harms us—and that’s the point. If we can come to an agreement, maybe no one has to get hurt.”
“It’s too late for that.”
“Yes, I know your ego must be suffering greatly, but trust me, it could be much worse.”
I swallow, suddenly feeling my throat go dry. “What sort of … ‘agreement’ … are you referring to?”
“Tell Glambam to back off the masters purchase. Say you’ve changed your mind and you don’t want them anymore, even if you reach or exceed your sales goal. We keep the masters without looking like the bad guys, your secret stays secret, your sales flourish, and everyone gets to move on without ever having to have this fight again.”
Narrowing my eyes, I say, “You’re seriously going to stand here and try toblackmailme?”
“Again with the drama.” Dana sighs. “This can really be a very simple transaction.”
“My masters—and my dignity—for your silence.”
