Page 195

“Why is the leaked version listed as the first single?”

“Good morning to you too.”

“Danny.”

He exhales as though I am being difficult.

“Because it’s the version people know. The rewrite is good, but the original already has recognition. Trust me, Callum, how long have I been doing this? I know what’s best.”

“We said we hadn’t decided.” I’m pacing the room.

“Yes, and then we decided.”

“You told me the band would have creative control this time.”

“You do. Within reason, of course.”

I laugh.

“Right.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t start acting like this is some artistic integrity crisis. It’s just a song. I’m sorry if it upset your little girlfriend, but she will get over it. Buy her some jewelry with the advance or some shit that girls like and she’ll forget all about it.”

My hand tightens around the phone. I take a deep breath to try and keep my cool.

“Change it,” I say. “The rewrite goes in the agreement.”

“I’m not reopening the contract over four lines in a song. Listen to me. The leaked version is why they moved the meeting. It is why the offer went up. You do not pull the thing that got you the deal out of the deal. Now, are we done? Are you going to sign? I have a man-mani booked in at 10.”

“Did you leak it?”

Danny sighs.

“Let’s not rehash this. I told you, I didn’t upload anything.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“Files move around.”

“Did you send my song to somebody knowing it would get out?”

“Maybe I made sure it reached someone who could generate interest. And what happened after that,” he continues, “was a third-party breach. Capiche?”

“No, I do not capiche. You arranged it,” I accuse.

“I created an opportunity that got Atlas Falling back in the room. I did my job, Callum. I’m not going into this whole thing with you. The girl was already in the lyrics. You wrote the song. You recorded it. You sent it to me. If you wanted it kept between the two of you, you should’ve left it in your notebook.”

It’s true. I shouldn’t have done that. I regret sending it to him, trusting him. Even though I can’t go back in time. I can do something now.

“I’ll call you back,” I say.

I pace the room and think it through. Am I being too impulsive? Danny has been with us since we were nineteen. He got us into rooms we would never have entered without him. He knew label people, radio people, promoters, photographers. He made calls nobody returned when they came from us.

But he also sat beside us while we signed away our masters and told us the deal was standard. He told us not to ask too many questions in case we looked difficult. That was always the fucking thing with Danny. Every time he fucked us, he could point to the door he opened first.

I open the group chat.

ATLAS FALLING PRIV.