“Thank you,” I breathe.
Charles claps me on the shoulder. “You can show your gratitude by not making me regret this. Got it?”
“Yeah. Yes. Abso-fucking-lutely I do. You won’t be sorry.”
“Let’s deal with this blackmail business first, prep for your release party, and then we’ll reconvene and hammer out some details for your rebrand. If you’ve got time between now andthen, it wouldn’t hurt for you to put together a few samples for our meeting too, so we know what direction you’re headed.”
“Sounds great,” I say, still not believing what I’m hearing. “Um, just one more thing though—because I’m on a roll and I might lose my nerve if I wait.”
“I’m listening …”
Just Trust Me, You’ll Be Fine
HARMONY
AsIsitinthe back of my limo alone, wearing my gold-sequined bomber jacket, my Notes app cursor blinks at me from the bottom of a screen full of text.
There’s nothing more I can add to this.
After so many months of anticipating this day, it’s finally here—the day Griffin and I release our new music in tandem. I haven’t spoken to him in a week, not since the morning after I told him I’d be conceding to FM Sound. It wasn’t intentional, going this long without a word; I figured he’d try to call or text me, at which point I would reply (once I’d given Dana my answer and there was no turning back) and we’d slowly find our way back to each other. But I never heard from him, and then I didn’t know how to bridge the gap in communication while also navigating the process of preparing this announcement for the public. Maybe he’s mad at me, and maybe I deserve it, but that’s a fear I’ll have to deal with later. For now, it’s hard to say where we stand.
However, the release party seemed like the best place to tell everyone whereIstand with my music. There will be tonsof press, plenty of attention. All eyes will be on us because of our media-worthy romance and collaboration. And this is important.
I reread my digital copy of the speech in a whisper even though the partition prevents the driver from hearing me, going over the beginning in a rush so that I don’t get emotional before I’ve even arrived at the party.
For this part, I mention that I’ve tried to get my first two albums back and talk about what they mean to me, how I wrote them when I was still young and struggling financially, how they came from the depths of my soul (more or less), and how they’ve been the means by which I’ve been able to keep making music to share with my fans. I talk about how I’ve become a new person since then and that it’s time to embrace that change. Then I’ll say, “With that in mind, I have decided to leave the past in the past. My masters will stay with my first label, FM Sound, the people who amplified my voice early on and helped me complete the work I once thought would go unheard by the masses. There will be no more bad blood between us. Those songs will continue to be available to buy and stream, and will always be a symbol of a dream realized.
“Some of you have asked if I’ll record Harmony’s Versions of them, and the answer to that is no. Regardless of who legally owns the first recordings, the songs are mine—because those aremywords,mymelodies, and because that ismyvoice on every track. No legal document can change that. I have nothing to prove.
“So tonight we celebrate the release ofMy Lucky Stars—andThere Goes The Sun, along with the Night + Day EP—and I hope you’ll join me as I move on to a new era, as I let go of ‘the glory days’ which, let’s be honest, had their fair share of inglorious moments. Riff and I have worked hard this year andwe’re excited for you to hear what we’ve put together. The best is yet to come.”
Rereading the last few words once more, I fidget with the sequins on my jacket, which itself is a visual farewell to my first two albums. I don’t feel ready, but I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
With Stefanie and two of my assistants in tow, I step out of the elevator on the glass-walled rooftop of the Concordia, a 36-story high-rise downtown.
The sky is a gradient of dark blue, violet, and magenta, bleeding into a strip of gold on the horizon, an ethereal transition like it knows the significance of this night.
All the light pollution in the city makes the faint, emerging stars even more faint, but the thousands of tiny bulbs strung overhead provide a lovely manmade substitution.
Security subtly clears a path for the “soft arrival” (no one is supposed to announce me or draw a lot of attention, but a ripple of notice moves through the crowd of guests).
A few cameras flash in my direction.
My team quietly coordinates my entrance, guiding me to a landing area away from everyone else. Here there is a galaxy backdrop and sofas upholstered in dark blue velvet. I greet my publicist and then my stylist, who does a quick assessment of my hair, makeup, and outfit. She checks the silhouette of my gold bomber jacket and white top, the same vegan leather skinny pants that I wore to the FANTASIE release party, and gold pumps, while a pre-approved photographer waits to get some first-look photos.
I’m supposed to be the “night” side ofNight + Day, so I kind of went opposite by wearing gold, but it just … felt right. I needed to be bold for this.
“Where’s Griffin?” I ask.
“According to Braden, he’s running a little late,” Stefanie tells me. “Nothing serious. We’ll get some photos of the two of you together in a bit.”
I take in the scope of the venue, which is high up overlooking the city and a portion of the valley.
The rooftop itself displays several banners that feature artwork from theNight + DayEP along with photos of me and Griffin together, or which feature some of our lyrics.
The lyrical quotes are all tied to the celestial theme, with typographical emphasis: “Hate you to themoonand back,” “I think themoonlight’smakin’ me bold,” “We’ve hung all our hopes on a dyingstar,” “Fromsundowntosunup, I can’t seem to get enough,” “I’m brightly burning in the nightsky,” “You walk away and there goes thesun,” “How am I? I’m absolutelystellar.”
I’m starting to think Griffin and I are both a little obsessed with the firmament, if marketing was able to so easily source thematic material from work we never intended to be thematic.
