Page 60 of Hard Rock Temptation
“Is it defiant to want to stick to your artistic vision?” Zain said. “I’d call that being honest.”
“Artistic vision? You’re really going to play that card?” Finn scoffed. “You only ever cared about the women and the parties more than anything we played on stage.”
Zain’s offended expression was on the verge of outright hostility.
I had to step in before this got out of hand.
“Finn, you know what Zain means,” I said. “We just want to make the kind of music we want to make. The only reason you’re not agreeing is because you want the label’s approval. You don’t want to risk pissing them off again, not after everything that’s happened.”
“That has nothing to do with this,” Finn insisted, but the twitch of his eyebrow told me I nailed it on the head. “You’re just being too precious about your art. I know the music is your life and blah blah blah, but seriously Kay, how hard is it to write a song our fans actually want to listen to?”
I narrowed my eyes at Finn. He’d made light of my dedication to the music before, but never this disparagingly.
“How do you know people won’t want to listen to these new ones?” Chris asked. “No one aside from us has heard them. Give our fans a little respect.”
“It’s not about respect or disrespect,” Micah replied, frustrated. “Chris, you didn’t even join the band until we’d already basically made it big, how would you know what our fans want?”
Chris went silent, his expression pained, as if he’d taken a physical blow, but he quickly recovered.
“We should trust that our fans love who we are, that they love what we do, and that they’ll be open to new styles,” Chris continued. “We should trust that they want to hear us authentically.”
“So you’re saying I’m inauthentic?” Micah bit out.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” Chris said, his reasonable tone seeming to make Micah even more agitated.
“It’s not inauthentic if we’re making our fans happy,” Anya said.
“You’re just agreeing with Micah because you want this conversation to be over,” Zain said. “You always just do whatever everyone else wants to avoid any confrontations.”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” Anya insisted.
“Oh yeah? When have you ever stood up for yourself before?” Zain asked snidely.
Anya turned white and lowered her head.
“That’s not true,” I cut in. “Do you not remember the time Anya kneed that guy in the balls?”
“It was self-defense,” Anya muttered, still avoiding everyone’s eyes. “He was manhandling me.”
“But Anya,” I said, turning to her, “surely you have to agree with me and Zain? As someone who writes from the heart, you have to get what we’re saying, right? Music comes from deep inside of us. From inside our very souls.”
Anya sighed. “Kaylee, do you always have to be this dramatic and emotional?”
I flinched, trying not to let the betrayal show in my expression. I knew Anya might not agree with me right away about our second album, but I’d never thought she would throw something like that in my face.
My mom had always called me dramatic whenever I tried to set boundaries. She always thought I was too emotional whenever I showed any signs of hurt. I hadn’t thought that was such a sore point inside me, but somehow Anya had identified a weak spot in my armor and let an arrow fly straight into it.
“Too dramatic and emotional?” I finally snapped. “Just because you bottle everything up inside and refuse to talk about your feelings?—”
“I put everything into my lyrics,” Anya shot back, eyebrows drawing down into a frown. “I put all my feelings into our songs.”
“You’ll expose your most vulnerable emotions to thousands of fans, but you won’t even have a real conversation about what you’re feeling with your best friends,” I said, a wrenching feeling twisting my stomach.
Now it was Anya who had the look of betrayal on her face.
I hated where this was all going, but it was like a train wreck, and nothing anyone was saying was stopping it.
“Kay, you need to learn to separate the art from the business,” Micah said, losing his patience.
