Page 31 of Broken Melody
He smiles, “Good. Any questions?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll wait until the end of your presentation,” Leslie expresses.
“Okay, now, before you decide let’s discuss the solo career contract which I’m prepared for you to sign should you choose.” Moving my hands, I now sit on them in order to remain still. “Sailor, I think you’re great. When I heard you sing for the first time, you blew me away. You have a lot of potential and with some practice and polish I believe you can have a sensational career. Your sound is fresh, your tone bold and rich, and I think you would be a hit. The deal here is that you would record no less than two albums with me over the course of two years as well as a tour for both should record sales indicate a desire for such. To be clear, since you haven’t done this, our agency will provide the experts you need. You wouldn’t be required to write your own songs at this time, but if you should, we’ll consider them for the albums. You would also not be required to develop your own back up – band or vocalists, lyrist, writers, arrangers, or even choreographers. Again, we have an abundance of creative individuals that would fit the bill. You would be enabled to provide input on what you choose to sing and you would have input into those chosen to support you. We want your voice, your stage presence. You would not be the headliner for the tour initially, but rather an opening act. We would go from there.” He proceeds to tell me more things about the contract making my head spin. “Ultimately, the choice is yours.”
“So you’re saying I can sign with the band on a temporary basis for at least a few months, or I can sign a contract as a solo artist for two years?”
“Yes,” he states plainly. Clearly he is doing this on purpose – making the solo contract more desirable because it’s what he would also prefer – it has to be with an offer like that. I can tell by the excitement in his voice as he talks about it and the gleam in his eye is a dead giveaway.
“What’s the catch?” I ask.
“The catch?”
“It sounds too good to be true. Like this can’t even be real.”
“Oh, it’s real. And of course, you will be paid well for either choice,” and when he goes over with me what I can expect to receive – the first payment, a sign-on bonus, immediately – I almost faint. It must show on my face because Rick chuckles. “I’ll give you some time to discuss this with your attorney, and put together any questions you may have for me.” He stands and passes the contracts across the table to me and I hold them reverently. Looking down at all the words before me, it astounds me that a few papers could represent such a life-changing opportunity. It makes the weight of them seem heavy. “If you need some extra time to consider the offer, that’s fine. However, time is of the essence for the band, as they will potentially need to find someone else, so I’ll be honest, the sooner you give me a decision, the better.” I nod and he smiles, “Knock on the door when you’re ready and Bethany will grab me.”
“Okay, thank you.” Once they exit, I exhale and rub my temples, “Oh my god,” I say.
“Well, you have quite the decision to make. Anything he said that wasn’t clear?”
“No. I understand the offers.”
“Okay, let me read them so we can discuss anything I think we can negotiate, or that you may have questions about.” She begins to read the documents through, all the while discussing each point with me. She also asks me some additional questions regarding working for this agency and even about becoming a professional singer. She asks if I have considered how being a part of the band – given their bad PR at this time and potential for continuation – could affect my future or lack thereof if they tarnish me during the summer. I voice appreciation for her perspective on all of the items we review, especially her reassurance about signing with this particular label. In the end, while a few various items of interest and question exist that need resolution and a few passages need revision to garner maximum clarity or equity, surprisingly enough, the contracts are pretty straight forward, laying out exactly what he said as well as other legal formalities. While Leslie is quiet and writing down a few items and rereading a couple things, I pull out my phone and place a call to Britt.
“Hey! Is this a call to tell me to put on my best dress so we can go celebrate?”
“No, not yet. This is an I need advice to figure out what I should do, call.”
“Okay, spill,” she tells me and I do. I tell her everything Rick said, as well as what I’m feeling and thinking. “Part of me wants to jump at the opportunity to have a solo career right now, I mean people dream of this, Britt. I’ve never dared to dream about any of this. I just… is this even real life?”
“It sure is, and you deserve it.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I sure as hell do.”
“But, what if I don’t end up liking Rick? What if I don’t end up enjoying a singing career at all? What if I fail? The contract spells out things like press, tour, practices, interviews, I mean, my life is at the beck and call of what they need me to do. There’s something appealing about starting with an established band, trying it out first, testing the waters, making sure this is what I want to do with my life. Not that rehearsal and touring and all of that won’t be just as busy, but maybe the band would be the perfect stepping stone to a solo career. Why isn’t that an option? To try one before I jump into the other?”
“How do you know it isn’t?”
Her comment gives me pause. “That’s true,” I finally say. “I guess it’s worth a shot.”
“Sounds to me like you answered your own question. You know what you want,” Britt says.
“Yeah…yeah I think I do. Thanks for listening, Britt. I guess I just needed to say it out loud – talk it out.”
“Always. Now, go get ‘em girl.”
When we hang up I turn to Leslie who’s looking at me curiously, “Here’s what I’m thinking.”
She grabs a pen and notepad from her briefcase, and smiles, “Tell me.”
Together, we work out a deal I’d like to counter offer to Rick and when we’re done, I’m finally smiling, feeling good about what we developed as well as feeling confident he’ll go for it. Walking to the door, I knock.
A couple hours later I’m smiling widely as we step into the elevator and head down to the main lobby. Part of me feels like I’m walking on air. “I don’t know how to thank you,” I tell Leslie.
