And I can't leave the system?—
what's been built out of the bones of my fear
has become my shelter.
But I can do this.
I can make sure Eli gets what he earned.
I can fix this onefuckingthing.
So I hitsendon the transfer
because it’s the only thing
I have the power to do.
I fall back into the chair,
staring at the computer screen while
lights and sounds of the city below pierce through the glass window—ambulances, honking—until the screen fades black and I'm sitting in the dark.
Minutes later,
my phone is blowing up.
Eli Stone
I don’t know what magic you pulled, but we just got the payment.
You’re a lifesaver. Seriously. Thank you.
I owe you a drink. Or ten. I got you in Cali!
19 /HOTEL CALIFORNIA
EAGLES
// NOV 12, 10:21 AM - SOUNDWAVE RECORDS - MIDTOWN, NYC //
I didn’t sleep.
I spent the whole night buried in payment logs, pulling up six months of numbers, dates, excuses.
Turns out, Eli wasn’t the only one. Two other artists are waiting for checks owed to them.
Raymond’s door is closed.
I don’t knock.
I shove it open so hard,
the plaques on the wall tremble.
He looks up from his desk,
dark hair slicked back
