My brother looked up from his chalupa. “Sweet.”
Jake drew his hand across his throat, nixing the plan.
“I can see you, Jake,” Kyle said.
“You can’t even effectively manage yourself, dude. Kenzie sent you to the store for one thing—baby formula—you came home four hours later with a sixty-four-inch smart TV… and a puppy.”
Kyle wadded up the wrapper, only to pull another item from the bag. “One time, Jake. That was one time… and I got the formula.”
“Kyle,” I said. “I’m sorry, man. But due to recent evidence, I’m gonna have to let you go.”
“Eh. It was fun while it lasted.” He shrugged and laid into his taco supreme.
“About your other problem,” Jake said. “The way I see it, you’ve got three options. One: Go back to the show. Two: Quit music and find something else to do with your life. Or three: Hire Tucker Beckett.”
“Why him? Tucker told me his plan, Jake. He wants to start a band with me as frontman to escape Hollis’s solo artist clause. I can hire a different manager and do it myself.”
“You can hire anyone you want. But if you hire some meek-ass manager just so you can push him around and make him do your bidding, how far do you think he’s going to take you? Yeah, Tucker has a reputation as an asshole. News flash, Quinn—so do you. But being an asshole isn’t a bad thing as long as people are still opening the door when you knock.”
“How do you know they’ll open the door for him?”
“Because I’d open the door for him.”
“Why?”
“You know his story, right? Tucker didn’t just createAnyDayNow. He made them. Just because you put five good-looking guys together doesn’t guarantee success. Tucker made a series of decisions for the band that sent them soaring straight to the top…and, more impressive, he kept them there for five years. A boy band, Quinn. Imagine what he can do with a band that has more staying power.”
“Jake’s right,” Kyle said through a mouthful. “I watched a documentary about the band. Tucker Beckett was their driving force. The dude’s a genius.”
“And face it. You need someone with a significant amount of clout in this business to get you out of the hole you’ve dug. Someone who can stand up to Hollis. Someone ruthless.”
“Someone like Tucker Beckett.”
Both Jake and Kyle nodded.
“Oh, man,” I said, sinking down into the chair opposite Kyle and rifling through his Taco Bell bag. “Why do I feel like I’m trading one dictator for another?”
“That’s what your contract is for. Limit his power. Make him work for you.”
Kyle’s phone rang. “I know how powerful my input is here, boys, but it’s the ol’ ball and chain. I gotta take this,” he said, smiling at the image of his wife filling up his screen. Kyle licked his fingers as he ducked into the hallway to take the call.
I laid my forehead against the table.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Quinn?”
“It’s just a lot of pressure. I don’t know if I’m good enough for all this hype.”
“You’re good enough. I rewatched your performance last night, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve only ever heard you sing like that twice in your life. Once at my wedding. And then again on theNext in Linestage. Both times you were angry. Lost. Vulnerable. Remember at my bachelor party, we’d gotten into a fight and you were mad at me. The next day you performed that song you wrote for me at the wedding and you blew us all away. The other night, same thing. You were visibly pissed. Emotional. Before you even opened your mouth, I knew you were going to slay it.
“That’s the magic, Quinn. It’s what separates good from great. Find that anger that lives inside you, and instead of holding it in until you burst, take it out on the music. That’s how I learned to survive. All the darkness. All the pain. I threw it into my songs, and then I unleashed it on the world. And that’s what you need to focus on—the darkness inside you. Where does that come from? Why do you always seem like a simmering volcano? You’ve got this danger to you, but you’re always fighting it. It’s not a crutch, Quinn; it’s power. It’s what makes you great. Always sing fromthere. If you do that, I promise, there will be no one who can hold you back.”
“Even if I pick the shittiest manager in Hollywood?” I asked, bringing some levity into the life-affirming moment.
“Even then.” He smiled. “You’rethatgood, Quinn. You always have been—now you just have to believe it.”
Thirteen years of formal education and never had I learned more wisdom from a lecture than I had today. I finally understood what needed to be done. If I wanted to go all the way, that portal to hell I’d opened up on theNext in Linestage could never be closed again.
My apology long overdue, I said. “I’m sorry for what I said to you at Dad’s Mother’s Day party, Jake.”
