“A anniversary tour would pop right now. You can hop on features and bring back the old sound. We can start with just five cities. Detroit first. Detroit would go crazy for this right now.”
I didn’t respond right away, but he kept going.
“With these kind of predictions,”—he pointed at the projector screen—“tickets would sell out in minutes. You can capitalize on the moment. You can remind people who you are. It’s smart.” It was smart. He was right. That was what I struggled with the most. “I can make this happen,” he pressed. “This won’t be like grinding in your twenties. This is controlled. It’s strategic and short.”
I folded my hands in front of me and stared at the window behind him. L.A. traffic moved steadily outside. There were people walking dogs down the street and joggers with headphones in—just a regular day in Beverly Hills.
“You listenin’ to me?” Kam asked.
“I’m thinking,” I said. I imagined the stage lights. I could envision theDetroit crowd screaming lyrics from songs I wrote in my bedroom as a teenager. The reunion energy would becrazy. Theheadlines would hit hard. It would be easy. It would be good. It would be even more money in my pocket too.
“You got this momentum right now,” Kam added. “Let’s ride it.”
I rubbed my jaw. To ride it meant to feed the attention. I didn’t want to repeat the cycle. I was tired of it.
“You still quiet,” Kam said.
“I know it’s a good idea,” I admitted.
“So, what’s the hesitation?”
I thought about what Yana said in our last conversation.
I didn’t want to feel like I had to compete with your world.
I thought about Princess’s voice when she told me she was proud of how I handled the drama.
I thought about the version of me that used to need a stage to feel solid or need a studio to feel safe.
“I don’t think I really want that no more,” I said finally.
Kam blinked. “Nigga, what?”
“I think I did what I was supposed to do as an artist,” I clarified. “I think I had a good career. I’m ready to focus more on my life now. I don’t wanna have my name out here like that ever again, either.”
“People trend whether they want to or not,” he replied.
“I know that,” I said calmly. “But I don’t have to turn it into a spectacle.”
He leaned forward. “This ain’t a spectacle, though. This is your legacy.”
Legacy.I let that word sit at the top of my mind for a moment.
“Legacy ain’t just noise, though,” I said slowly. “Legacy is structure.”
He leaned back in his chair and studied my face.
“I can build artists,” I continued. “I can build a label full of real artists who love the music and not just hop on somethingthat is trendy. I’d rather my legacy be to build something in Detroit that don’t disappear when the streams slow down.”
“So, you just gon’ walk away from this?” Kam asked.
“I’m not walking away, bruh,” I replied. “I’m elevating.”
He stared at me in silence again. I couldn’t tell whether the look on his face was disbelief or if he was proud of me. “You serious?”
“I am.”
He shook his head then, and I could tell he was impressed. “You’re turning down easy money.”
