Starting from Scratch (Starting from 2)

“I haven’t done anything.” I bit my bottom lip and decided to go with my gut. It was time to lay my cards on the table. “But I think Declan should be our first act.”

Silence.

“We’ve been pretty damn clear about how we feel, Char. What part of ‘I fucking hate him?’ didn’t you get?” Justin asked irritably.

“Hey, relax,” Ky said, stepping between us. “Let him explain.”

“Please. Go ahead and explain,” Tegan huffed.

I swallowed hard. “Thanks. Listen, you don’t want to hear this, but he’s a really good musician with a lot of star appeal. His loose connection to you makes him instantly interesting. If you set your egos aside, you’ll realize you’re in a position to call the shots. He can help you and you can help him. You can dictate the narrative, rewrite the parts of your story you don’t like. His band, Jealousy, is a good six months to a year behind where Zero is now. They need studio time and—”

“And where would they practice? Here?” Justin asked incredulously.

“No, we’d rent a studio. I found an affordable one on La Cienega. You don’t ever have to cross paths. But you’ll want to once they’re ready to release a single. He’s your competition. Get it?”

Everyone went quiet again. Either mulling over my words or planning my demise.

Justin pursed his lips as he rubbed his stubbled jaw thoughtfully. “I get it. I don’t know if I like it, but you might be right.”

“I am right. It’s a risky proposition. We’re betting on the market. We’re betting on Zero. We don’t know how your shows will be received in New York City, Boston, Miami, Nashville. We’re not sure if they’ll love you in London or Paris or Munich either. We’re betting everything on this. We’ll have to form a corporation, borrow money we don’t have, and roll the dice,” I said before adding softly, “but I’d bet on Zero any day.”

“Let’s take twenty-four hours and think about it,” Ky suggested. “We don’t have to decide tonight.”

“That’s a good idea. Do we have any more questions?” Justin asked.

Johnny, Justin, and Ky asked a few about logistics and the timeline I’d created, noting that there really was no way for me to do everything I’d proposed on my own.

“I’d have to hire a team. I know a few good people,” I assured them before rattling off a few names.

The guys tossed in a few options as they started to pack up for the night. I breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed my man bag from the sofa next to Tegan who was still staring at my computer. If I hadn’t been caught off guard by the accidental Declan reveal, I might have noticed that Tegan hadn’t said a word.

I sat beside him and slid my laptop across the coffee table. “Do you have any questions, T?”

“Yeah, I do. How does Sound Cloud already know about this?”

“About what?”

He let out a beleaguered sigh and pointed at a tab on the screen. “Nelson “Ed” Cormer sent you a link in Messenger to the article he just published. It’s all there. He doesn’t mention the label idea, but he says something about you managing our rival…Declan McNamara. How would he know, Char? Who’ve you been talking to?”

The blood drained from my face so fast it was a good thing I was sitting, or I would have fainted for sure. All eyes were on me again, but the only one I was worried about was Ky. He looked shell-shocked, like he’d seen a ghost. My gift for getting myself out of tight squeezes and awkward situations failed me. I couldn’t find my voice. And it didn’t really matter.

“Ky…”

“What did you do?” He slung his guitar case over his shoulder and fixed me with a cold, unyielding glare and held his hand up when I opened my mouth to speak. “No. Don’t. So he’s Ed?”

“Yes.”

“When did you find out?”

“Last month.” I swallowed around the desert in my mouth before rushing to explain. “I would’ve told you, but you said you didn’t want to know.”

“Wait. Who’s Ed?” Justin asked. “What the fuck is going on?”

Ky let out a humorless laugh. “No one. No one at all.”

I stared after him in shock as he stormed out of the studio, slamming the door behind him. I was glued to my seat for a moment. No one seemed to know what to say. They probably figured I’d fucked up good and yes, they were right. But if I didn’t get moving, they’d ask questions I couldn’t answer. And I had to get to Ky.

I stood on shaky legs and stumbled over the coffee table in my haste to go after him. Justin caught my elbow before I hit the floor. “Hey. I don’t know what’s going on, but—”

“Let me go. I have to go,” I croaked, pulling out of his hold and racing for the exit.