Page 8 of Rock Candy

I couldn’t help it, I deadpanned, “Is that what we’re going to call last night? Networking?”

I made her uncomfortable. She shifted her weight and broke our eye contact.

“Nah,” she said, and then she jutted out her hand for me to shake. “Let’s just agree that it was a good time and then forget it ever happened.”

Unlikely.

FALL

EDDY

Marcus Daily was a stuck-up weirdo, but strangely it was hard not to like him. Since my first day with LSA Records, he’d been my manager and the guy worked obsessively, so much so that it was hard to have a full-blown conversation with him because he was constantly checking his phone. He thought he knew best—which he usually did—and he didn’t suffer fools, not even for a second. Despite his superior attitude, he was always listening. He missed nothing and he pursued my goals as if they were his own. However, as he sat down across from me, pointedly put down his phone, and made conscious eye contact, I immediately felt nervous.

“What?” I asked, wanting him to cut to the chase. We were in the living room of a house we rented for the weekend of the Under the Trees Music Festival in Asheville, NC. I played the festival every year because it was an easy going gig. First of all, the mountains in North Carolina blanketed in fall leaves were excruciatingly beautiful—enchanting even. Secondly, the festival was mostly laid-back granola types who loved nature, liked sleeping in tents under the stars, and hoped that someday the world would be a peaceful place. Thirdly, there were always great new up-and-coming bands and I like to hear good music. For me,Under the Trees was usually like a vacation. But Marcus’s attitude had me anxiously thinking that he was about to ruin my chillaxed weekend vibe.

“You’re trending and it’s not great,” he said bluntly, sitting tall with his hands draped over his knees.

“Define ‘not great.’” I sighed.

“Jerry Jefferies commented that he thinks you need to get a life and that you’re hiding from your true potential.” Jerry Jefferies was a D-level comedian until he had a gossipy podcast that went viral and got him a prime-time slot on television, ranting nonsense opinions.

I rolled my eyes. “Jerry Jefferies is an idiot. Who cares that it's not enough for him that I constantly tour and release chart-topping albums? Why do you give a shit about this?”

“Well, like I said, it’s trending.”

“So what? Who cares if Twitter thinks I need to get a life.”

Marcus shifted awkwardly. “Yeah, listen, Eddy. PR is a fickle game. And the thing is, everyone, on all social media, seems to agree with Jefferies.”

I laughed. “So the whole world thinks I need to get a life.”

“Yes.” The king oftell it like it isdidn’t mince words. He leaned forward and dropped his bomb without cushioning the blow. “Usually, social media is like a whirlwind of garbage opinions that eventually balance themselves out, but in this case the spectrum of opinions seems to vary from ‘I feel sorry for her’ to ‘her music is stale because she’s trapped in her trauma.’”

Startled, I stuttered when I asked, “They… they think my music is stale? Is my music stale?”

Marcus considered the question, which I didn’t like at all. “Your sales on this last album are down, but from a technical standpoint, this was by far your best work. So, is your music stale? I don’t think so, but your audience may have grown unwilling to sit with your messaging because you are unflinchingly grim.”

“I’m not grim,” I argued.

Marcus didn’t speak but he made a face that said,give me a fucking break.

“Fine, maybe I’m a little grim.”

“To be clear, nobody at LSA gives a shit about the negative trending. As long as you keep making great records, we will keep releasing them. You will always have a strong audience, Eddy. Your artistry speaks for itself. That said, I’m bringing this up because I think Jefferies is right.” Indicating to himself, he emphasized the word ‘I’ by bringing his hand to his chest.

“You think I need to get a life?” I asked, scoffing my annoyance.

“No. You have a life, a busy one filled with work,” Marcus deadpanned. “What he’s right about is that you avoid attachments and conflict and that is keeping you from reaching your true potential.”

Seething, I snapped at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Also, he didn’t say all that, you are.”

“Eddy, I’ve known you for half a decade and other than the people you work for or with, I’ve never seen you have so much as a friend, let alone a mate.”

“You don’t have a mate either.” I stood up and started to pace in front of the couch, not fully understanding why this conversation was making me feel insane.

“Don’t get defensive.”

“Also, who fucking says mate?”

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