“It’s your decision on what you want to do.”
I get up and head over to the glass cabinet where all the legal books are, trying to relieve the burning in my stomach.
“Tell them no. We’ve already given him everything he previously asked for. Even cutting him in on the next two albums and the world tour that he shouldn’t be able to commission on post-term.”
John swivels on his chair to look at me. There’s trepidation in his eyes.
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
“In fact, tell them no to the sunset clause extension, and remove the tour and two new albums from the agreement too.”
My stomach grumbles and I head back to the table to grabanother bite of my salmon and cream cheese bagel. Anger sure does have a way of working up an appetite.
“We won’t be able to remove the albums from the agreement, as you’d already renewed your record deal in the summer. Paul would argue he helped negotiate the deal and therefore should be entitled to commission from those.”
“But I haven’t even properly started recording the album yet, just the demos.”
The thought of Paul getting his grubby hands on future earnings he’ll have no involvement in ignites my fury once more, and my fist slams down on the table, startling not only John but also myself. John’s face returns to a blank mask of professionalism as he waits for me to continue.
“Well, fine,” I say. “But he’s not getting his hands on my touring. That I haven’t discussed at all, not with Kirk or the team at WME.”
“And if he pushes back on either point. Or tries to disclose stuff?”
“We sue him for defamation of character.”
I grab my phone from my pocket and quickly fire up ChatGPT to look up the punishment for aiding and abetting a crime. The results reassure me.
“If he even attempts to bring up what happened with Samuel, and how he helped me escape the scene, he’d be subject to criminal charges too.”
When the negotiations started, I’d questioned whether I’d made the right decision. Whether it would be easier just to carry on with Paul managing me rather than go through the drawn-out process of not only reaching an agreement on his post-term commission, but also finding a new manager.
I even started to wobble this morning when I got this week’s singles chart report.It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Yeardropped from number one to number eight on the Billboard Hot 100.
Had my career already started to decline, now that Paul was no longer my manager?
Will I fade into obscurity like so many teen stars before me?
I’ve been able to hold on to my career for ten years now.
Maybe this is the beginning of the end.
Thankfully, Christopher was able to reassure me before he left for work. He highlighted that the drop was most likely due to the decrease in physical sales this week compared to the last. He shared the report on his phone he’d had from Brewed. Fifty thousand units had been sold across Brewed stores this week, down from nearly two hundred thousand the week before.
But all this pushback from Paul has cemented my decision. I’ve been more than fair. This is just greed on his part. And I’m done talking about Paul. I want to move past this whole situation and move onto a new chapter.
“Have you given any more thought to what we discussed on Friday, now that you’ve had the weekend to think things over?” I ask, looking over at John.
“Are you sure none of the other managers are right for you? A better fit?” John adjusts his navy tie.
The shortlist I’d met with all seemed good enough, but I wasn’t sure how much of a priority I would be on their roster of clients. None of them did enough to push me over the line to sign with them.
Yet I’ve already had John as my lawyer for ten years, and he’s pretty much been acting as my proxy business manager. He’s negotiated all the big deals, and even helped to procure some. Paul was more responsible for the talent management side of things. It makes sense for me to go with John and it would solve the issue of trust too. John knows almost everything. From Samuel to my sexuality, my struggle with addiction, and more.
“The others weren’t right. You make the most sense.” My tone softens as I lower my gaze to meet his and push for an answer, hoping he’ll agree.
“It’ll be a lot for me to give up my legal practice to focus solely on your career.” John tears his gaze from me to doodle on his legal notepad, as if weighing the decision in real time.
“So, you are open to it.” I pick up on the optimism in his tone.
