Page 43 of Feuds and Interludes
They weren’t telling falsehoods about MGK and Oli and company. I actually thought both of those diversions worked for those bands.
“I’m not a pop punk singer.”
My band looked back at me expectantly, as if they were waiting for me to figure out the a-ha moment.
“Ah. You weren’t intending for me to sing.”
They squirmed in their seats and finally had the decency to look uncomfortable. Good. I could be mature and still not make this bullshit easy for them.
“Shane,” Dean began. I was probably closest with him, both in age and experience. “It’s business. And it’s creative differences. You want to keep playing the hard stuff, and that’s fine. You should do that. But we want to make a change. And if that’s not what you want, hey. Wicked Soul is your IP. We’re not going to fight you on that.”
Glad he was smart enough to—Wait.
“You already talked to a lawyer.”
He nodded.
“So that’s it? All three of you?”
“Actually,” said Tucker. “I got asked to tour with Demi Lovato. She’s doing this whole rock thing. Pays good.” He shrugged. “I don’t really care what I’m playing as long as I’m getting paid, and we ain’t getting paid as much as we did after the first two albums.”
I rubbed my hands together. “That brings us to the fact that we’re still under contract. The label expects one more album at the very least.”
Drew shrugged. “You’ve already got the music. You play most of the instruments anyway. Record it. Hire a touring band. That’s all we’ve been to you.”
That…ouch. That hurt, but I couldn’t argue with him.
“I’m sorry you feel… I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. You all mean more to me than a contract.”
They had the decency to accept that as truth and not throw it back in my face, but it was obvious that my feelings toward them didn’t matter anymore.
“And Rocktoberfest?”
They all looked at each other and back at me. We’d been asked to play after last year’s event, and part of this trip up to Bolder Breed was so that we could rehearse. We’d planned to play new music at that show, kind of a kickoff to album preorders and our first single hitting the airwaves. It was six weeks away.
“You’ll figure it out,” Dean said. “You always do.” There was no malice in his voice at least. There was that.
“I guess that’s it then.” I stood and walked toward Dean. He looked nervous as I approached, but when I stuck my hand out, he relaxed. “I wish you all the best.”
Dean took my hand, stood, and we shook. There was no bro hug after, like we usually did.
Lydia had been quiet the whole time, I guess figuring that she didn’t need to step in as long as no punches or chairs were being thrown.
I shook hands with Drew and Tucker, they all thanked Lydia, and then they were gone. Off to the airport and back to LA. They’d been packed before we even met this morning.
“Wow.” I slumped back into my chair.
Lydia whistled and dragged her chair closer to me.
“That was not atallhow I thought this would go down. Don’t get me wrong, I had a feeling y’all might not stay together. But to quit? Just like that? And pop punk? Seriously? They’re not going to be the new Green Day. That ship sailed. Nostalgia only gets you so far.”
“Did you know?” I folded my hands between my spread knees and stared at the floor, my eyes burning with tears I would not shed.
“That they were going to quit? Hell no. Not at all.”
That made me feel better. I trusted Lydia more than most. It would suck if I found I couldn’t trust her, either.
“I’ve worked my entire career to avoid this kind of shit, to not end up alone like Pops. What the hell for?”
