5
Evan Wilborn, the head of our record label, Reign Records, is in lecture mode. Bethany, Dilly, Dreya a.k.a. Drama, and I are sitting like ducks in a row in Big D’s studio, while Big D sits back quietly. It’s not like him to be silent—he’s our manager. But I think the more that Evan steps to the forefront, the more Big D plays the background.
“Drama and Sunday, I know y’all are gonna bring home at least one Grammy for Reign Records. It’ll be our first.”
Dreya gives me a sly glance out the corner of her eye. We’re both nominated for Best New Artist, and I’m nominated for Song of the Year for “Can U See Me.”
Dreya didn’t make it a secret that she’s jealous of my nominations. She told my mom that she hopes I lose, because I don’t deserve to get any awards until she’s had her time to shine. She’s got it twisted.
We haven’t really spoken much since I had a Thanksgiving meltdown after I found out Dreya tried to get me dropped from the record label. Dreya was pretty heated at our holiday dinner too, because she found out that I’m a millionaire now, and her cash flow is severely limited. Plus, she’s moved in with Evan in New York City, so I barely ever get to see her.
“Bethany and Dilly, I’m glad that the two of you are able to put your differences aside to perform your single. Actually, the fact that all of you have been asked to perform is an incredible win.”
“We’re going to be in the Grammy pre-show, though. Nobody even watches that,” Dilly says.
“That’s the exact opposite of the attitude you should have!” Evan roars. “Every time you take the stage you should look at it like your chance to gain a new fan. Don’t ever let me hear you dog an opportunity again.”
Sufficiently checked, Dilly lowers his head and stares at the floor. “Chin up!” Evan says. “Don’t ever let anyone take the wind out of your sails like that.”
Dilly snaps his head back up with a confused look on his face. He’s not the only one who doesn’t understand Evan, though. We’re all pretty befuddled.
“What about my sophomore album?” Dreya says. “You said we were gonna talk about that, right, babe?”
Evan’s nose flares a bit. I can’t decipher if the look is irritation or anger, but I can tell that he doesn’t like being interrupted when he thinks he’s on a roll.
“I did say we would talk about your album. So let’s do that right now. Sunday, Drama says you aren’t exactly motivated to work on her new songs.”
“I’m not motivated to do anything at all for Dreya’s career.”
Big D says, “Sunday, regardless of how you feel right now about your cousin, working on her record is just more money in the bank for you. Don’t let somebody else get your paper.”
“And I’m even willing to get some new producers,” Evan says, “since you seem to be having some issues with Sam as well.”
“I’ve figured out a way to collaborate with Sam without seeing him. I’ll send him my vocals, and he can build the tracks around them.”
“I want y’all in the lab together like y’all did on Bethany’s stuff,” Dreya says. “Y’all gave her a hot album.”
I shake my head. “Not happening. Send me some other producers to the lab if you want, but there’s no way I’m going to be in the same room with Sam.”
“What if I give you bonus points on the album?” Evan asks.
I lift an eyebrow and ponder this. Evan is speaking my language—Benjamins. “How many extra?”
“Enough to add to your already substantial stash of loot.”
I run my fingers over the crown medallion on my neck, the Reign Records symbol. “Okay. I’ll do it. I won’t like it, but if y’all are convinced that Sam and I have to be joined at the hip to write music, I’ll do it. But he has to work around my schedule.”
“You always have to be in control, don’t you?” Dreya asks. “You were like that when we were in Daddy’s Little Girls, and now you’re trying to do it with my album.”
“Wait. What is Daddy’s Little Girls?” Evan asks.
Evan met us after we’d become solo artists with Big D. Obviously, he doesn’t know that Dreya, Bethany, and I started off as a group, and that I wrote the songs and did all of the vocal arrangements.
Bethany says, “We used to be a girl group. It seems like such a long time ago, but it was only last year.”
“Sing something,” Evan says.
“Hip Hop Bugle Boy, in one, two, three, four, five, six, seven . . .”
We bust out the harmonies on En Vogue’s popular song, like we were the ones who made it famous. The runs are perfect, the ad libs are perfect, and every note is totally on pitch. We were always a good group when Dreya actually opened her mouth up to sing.
“That was hot,” Evan says. “Y’all should consider doing a few songs together.”
Dreya sucks her teeth and frowns. “I don’t even think so. I am a solo artist. Period. Girl groups ain’t hot.”
“Think of it as your gimmick. Reign Records’s gimmick.” Evan paces the room tapping his chin in thought. “Every time a Reign Records artist releases an album, there should be a group collaboration.”
“Well, what about me?” Dilly asks. “I’m a Reign Records artist.”
“You could rap on whatever track they do.”
I shake my head. “I want to keep my brand separate from Dreya. She’s not really all that positive, and I’m getting covers of teen magazines.”
“Think about it!” Bethany says. “It would be a way for each of us to cross-promote our records to each other’s fan bases. And no one in the industry right now can hit harmonies like us.”
“Big D, what do you think?” Evan asks.
Big D chuckles. “Really? You want my opinion?”
“Don’t be a diva,” Dreya says. “Tell us what you think.”
After a long, pregnant, diva-like pause, Big D says, “I think it is a really good idea. It will help all four of you move a lot more units, and that is the point, isn’t it?”
“That’s what’s up! There will be Reign Records group collaborations on every record that’s released. As we gain more artists, the collaborations will get bigger.” Evan claps his hands together and does a half skip over to the keyboard. He sits down at the bench and bangs out a short tune.
What just happened? Did my career just step into the let’s-go-backward time machine? It was cool singing with Dreya and Bethany, but I’ve moved beyond this. I know exactly what my mentor, Mystique, would say.
“Don’t do it. Evan is an idiot,” Mystique says as we have lunch at her favorite sushi bar. I am not a fan of sushi. I’d much rather be eating chicken and waffles or some macaroni and cheese, but Mystique always picks when we eat out.
I nod in agreement. “I mean, we sounded great together. We always have. But Dreya and I are not in a good place. The only reason I agreed to even work on her record is because Evan offered me extra points.”
“He did? He must be desperate for her record to be a hit. You’re hot right now.”
I shrug. “Thing is, I can’t work when I’m not inspired. I’m not a machine. I don’t like Sam and I can barely stand to look at Dreya without choking her. Plus, I’ve got exams coming up soon. I don’t know how to find my writing place.”
“You need to go on some dates. Have some fun. What about DeShawn?” Mystique says. “He’d be a lot of fun, right?”
I bite my lip and consider DeShawn. Everything about him is perfect, except the fact that he’s not Sam. As much as Sam is on my list of least favorite people right now, I think he might’ve been my first love.
A huge knot forms in my throat as I think about the fun Sam and I had in Barbados. It was the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. I’d never take back anything about us. If only he’d been faithful.
I think I’m heartbroken.
“I-I’m not ready for fun, Mystique.”
She reaches across the table and places her hand over mine, an uncharacteristically caring gesture. It almost doesn’t feel genuine, but I don’t care, because I could use the sympathy, even if it is fake. Her touch seems to pop the cork off of a boatload of unshed tears. I thought I was done crying over Sam, but apparently, I’m not.
“You know, Sam really wants you back,” Mystique says. “He was just telling Zac how much he misses you and how much he messed up.”
“He was?”
Mystique nods. “Yes, he was. But you’re not going to fall for it. You’re going to ignore the pain you’re feeling.”
“I am?”
“Yes. I thought I wanted you two to get back together, but after this fiasco with Zac’s baby’s mother, I’m totally against unhealthy relationships, and you and Sam were totally unhealthy. He had his opportunity to do the right thing and he didn’t. His loss.”
She hands me a tissue from her purse and then waits patiently while I dry my tears and blow my nose.
“I agree with you about Sam,” I say. “It was unhealthy, and he told me more lies than he did truth. But I disagree about DeShawn. If he wants to be my boyfriend, he’s going to have to be incredibly patient. Because that’s not going down anytime soon.”
“He’s someone to have on your arm at events. He’s hot, and y’all look good together. It’ll also keep the paparazzi from asking you about Sam. Even they aren’t that tacky to ask about your ex in front of your new guy.”
“DeShawn as my date to the Grammys?” I hadn’t thought about it before, but not only would that be a great message to the reporters, it would also be a message to Sam. He’ll know I’m serious about moving on if I bring DeShawn to a public red carpet event.
“Yes, and as your date to everything. No one has to know that you’re not actually dating. It can be your mystery. Zac and I played games with the media for years before we ever admitted to being in a relationship.”
“So, if they ask me about us, what should I say?”
Mystique grins. “Just smile and say, ‘I never talk about my private life.’ ”
She never talks about her private life. But . . . I think that everyone’s else life is totally fair game for Mystique.