Mo' Money, Mo' Problems

Allen woke up the next morning feeling a little groggy from the night before. The burger joint hangout with Benji had turned into a late-night event, full of laughs, reminiscing, and more food than Allen thought possible. It was a good distraction from everything swirling in his head—Sarah, the label, the music, the possibility of something bigger just around the corner.

As he rolled out of bed, he glanced at his phone. No new texts from Sarah, but the Botify app was lighting up with new notifications. He quickly opened it to see the latest on "Fading Lights." His stream count had climbed to 38,000 overnight. At this rate, it wouldn't be long before he hit 50,000 streams. But the excitement that had come with seeing the numbers skyrocket had started to wear off. Now, he just felt... anxious.

"What's next?" Allen muttered to himself as he padded to the kitchen to make some coffee. He was still reeling from the Wild Horizon Records call a couple of days ago. They were publishing the song, sure, but his decision to stay independent felt both liberating and isolating.

The coffee maker sputtered to life, and Allen leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the floor. His mind wandered to the conversation he'd had with Benji about Sarah. Allen couldn't shake the feeling that Benji might be onto something. But was he really ready to pursue anything romantic? His life was complicated enough with the music. The last thing he wanted was to drag someone else into the chaos.

As the aroma of coffee filled the kitchen, Allen's phone rang. He grabbed it off the counter without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?" he answered, half-expecting it to be Benji again with more unsolicited advice.

"Hey, Allen, it's Laura from Wild Horizon Records. Got a minute?"

Allen's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't expected to hear from the label again so soon. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

"We've been monitoring the performance of 'Fading Lights' and—well, first off, congrats. The song's picking up a lot of traction, more than we expected this early."

Allen felt a surge of pride, but he kept his voice steady. "Thanks. It's been wild seeing it all happen so fast."

"Definitely. So, here's the thing: our team thinks it's time to push for a bigger marketing campaign. We're talking playlist placements, social media ads, the works. We've done some research, and we think this could give your track the boost it needs to hit even higher numbers—maybe 100,000 streams by the end of the month."

Allen was silent for a moment, trying to process everything. The idea of getting his song on more playlists was tempting, but he knew it would come with more pressure. More attention meant more eyes on him, more people expecting him to deliver.

"That sounds amazing," Allen finally said. "But, uh, how does that work? I mean, I'm still independent. Is this something you guys would handle, or...?"

"Good question," Laura replied. "We're willing to foot the bill for this campaign, but of course, it would come with a higher percentage of revenue going to us. Instead of a fifty-fifty split, it'd be more like sixty-forty. Still in your favor, though."

Allen bit his lip. Sixty-forty wasn't a bad deal, but it also felt like he was inching closer to the one thing he'd been avoiding: losing control. Staying independent meant he could call the shots. Handing more power to the label, even for a good reason, felt like a slippery slope.

"Do I have to decide right now?" Allen asked, trying to buy himself some time.

"Not at all," Laura said smoothly. "Take a day or two to think it over. We'll need to act fast if we want to keep the momentum going, though. Just let us know as soon as you're ready."

"Alright, thanks. I'll let you know," Allen said before hanging up.

He stood there for a few minutes, staring down at his phone. It felt like the music industry was starting to push him into a corner, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out without making a big decision. He wasn't against getting more exposure, but the idea of handing over more control gnawed at him. He hadn't gotten into music to play by someone else's rules.

His coffee had gone cold by the time he finally sat down at his desk, and with a sigh, he pulled up his Botify stats again. The streams were still climbing, but it wasn't enough to distract him from the weight of the decision ahead.

"Maybe I just need to clear my head," Allen muttered, standing up again and grabbing his guitar. He hadn't played it since the song had gone live, and it felt good to let his fingers move over the strings, finding a rhythm that matched the uneasy thoughts swirling in his mind.

He strummed a few chords, but the music wasn't coming as easily as it used to. Too much noise in his head, too much pressure to make the right move. Frustrated, he set the guitar back down and decided to take Benji's advice from last night.

Grabbing his phone, he sent a quick text to Sarah: "Hey, you free later today? Could use a break from all the music stuff."

Almost immediately, the dots appeared, showing that she was typing. A second later, her reply popped up: "Totally free! Want to grab a coffee?"

Allen felt a small wave of relief wash over him. A casual coffee hangout sounded perfect. No pressure, no stress—just two friends hanging out.

"Sounds good. See you at the usual spot in an hour?" Allen texted back.

"Perfect!" Sarah replied.

Allen glanced at the clock and realized he had just enough time to shower and get dressed. He was still in his pajamas, and as much as he wanted to be low-key about this, he figured he should at least try to look somewhat presentable.

An hour later, Allen found himself walking into the coffee shop where he and Sarah had hung out countless times before. The familiar smell of roasted beans and cinnamon pastries hit him as soon as he stepped inside. It was a cozy place, with soft lighting and old wooden tables scattered around. He spotted Sarah sitting at a corner table, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, scrolling through her phone. She looked up as he approached and smiled.

"Hey, superstar!" she greeted him playfully as he slid into the seat across from her.

"Superstar? Not quite," Allen said, laughing. "I've still got a ways to go."

"Thirty thousand streams in a week is pretty impressive," she said, taking a sip of her coffee. "I mean, that's way more than most people get in a month, right?"

Allen shrugged, trying to downplay it. "Yeah, I guess. It's been a little overwhelming, though. A label's already talking about marketing campaigns and stuff. Feels like everything's moving way too fast."

Sarah nodded, her expression softening. "I get that. It's a lot to take in all at once. But it's also exciting, right? I mean, this is what you've always wanted, isn't it?"

Allen paused, thinking about her question. It was true—this was what he had always wanted. But now that it was happening, it felt more complicated than he'd imagined. He wasn't just playing music anymore; he was managing a career, making business decisions, dealing with the expectations of other people. And the thought of making a wrong move hung over him like a dark cloud.

"Yeah, it's exciting," he admitted. "But it's also kind of terrifying. I don't want to mess it up, you know?"

Sarah reached across the table and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "You won't. You've got good instincts. And you've got people who believe in you."

Allen felt a warm flush creep up his neck at her touch, but he quickly shoved it down. They were just friends, after all. No need to read too much into it.

"Thanks," he said, smiling back at her. "That actually helps."

Sarah's phone buzzed, and she glanced at it quickly before turning her attention back to Allen. "So, are you gonna take the label's offer? The marketing deal, I mean?"

"I don't know," Allen admitted, leaning back in his chair. "Part of me thinks it's a great opportunity, but the other part of me feels like I'm giving up too much control. I didn't sign with them for a reason, you know?"

Sarah nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I get that. But maybe it's not about giving up control. Maybe it's about knowing when to accept help. You can't do everything on your own forever."

Allen chuckled. "Are you secretly my life coach now?"

She grinned. "Maybe. But seriously, you don't have to make every decision by yourself. And whatever you decide, I'm sure it'll be the right call."

Allen sighed, feeling a little lighter after talking to her. Maybe she was right. Maybe accepting a bit of help didn't mean giving up control entirely. It was something to think about, at least.

They spent the next hour chatting about lighter topics—movies, music, random stuff happening in town—and by the time they said their goodbyes, Allen felt more at ease than he had in days. The pressure was still there, but it wasn't crushing him like before.

As he walked back home, he opened up his phone and scrolled through the messages from Wild Horizon again. The decision still loomed over him, but as Allen walked, it didn't seem quite as heavy as before. Sarah's words kept replaying in his head—about accepting help and not trying to do everything on his own. She had a point. Maybe he didn't need to shoulder the entire weight of his budding career by himself.

He opened the email from Laura at Wild Horizon again and skimmed through it. The details about the marketing campaign were enticing: playlist placements, boosted ads, promotional partnerships. The idea of his song hitting 100,000 streams in just a few weeks sent a thrill through him. But that small voice in the back of his head still nagged at him, warning that if he gave them more control now, it might not stop there.

Allen pocketed his phone and stopped in front of a small park. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the grass. He found an empty bench and sat down, letting the cool evening air calm his nerves. It was strange how peaceful the park seemed compared to the whirlwind of thoughts in his head.

He pulled out his guitar from its case—it had become a habit to carry it around, just in case inspiration struck. The strings felt familiar under his fingers, like they always did, but tonight the usual melodies felt distant. Allen plucked at a few notes, trying to lose himself in the music, but his thoughts kept pulling him back to the decision looming over him.

As he played, a soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Hey, mind if I listen?"

Allen looked up to see a woman standing a few feet away, smiling politely. She seemed to be in her mid-twenties, with a casual yet artsy vibe—bright, colorful clothes and a camera slung over her shoulder.

"Uh, sure," Allen said, a little caught off guard. "I'm just messing around, though. Nothing serious."

She shrugged. "That's usually when the best stuff happens."

Allen chuckled and strummed a bit more confidently. He wasn't sure why, but having a stranger listen to him play made him relax a little. After a few minutes, she sat down on the bench beside him, watching quietly as he played. When he finished, she clapped softly.

"That was really nice," she said. "Do you perform around here?"

Allen shook his head, still a little flustered from the impromptu performance. "Not really. I'm more of a... I guess you could say I'm just starting out."

"Well, you've got something," she said, her eyes lighting up. "I'm Hazel, by the way."

"Allen," he replied, offering a small smile.

They chatted for a few minutes, with Hazel asking questions about his music, his influences, and his goals. She seemed genuinely interested, and it was refreshing to talk to someone outside of his usual circle.

"So, what's holding you back?" she asked after a while.

Allen blinked, a little taken aback by the question. "What do you mean?"

"I can tell there's something you're unsure about," she said, leaning back on the bench. "You've got talent, that's obvious. But you also seem... hesitant. Like there's something weighing on you."

Allen sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's just... I'm trying to figure out the right move. I've got this song that's doing pretty well, and a label wants to help push it further. But I don't know if I'm ready to give them more control. I've always wanted to do things my way, you know?"

Hazel nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I get it. Creative control is important. But sometimes, you have to ask yourself if you're holding onto control because it's what's best for your art, or because you're afraid of losing something."

Allen frowned. "You think I'm afraid?"

"I don't know you well enough to say for sure," Hazel said with a small smile. "But I do know that holding onto everything too tightly can sometimes stop you from growing. I'm a photographer, and for the longest time, I refused to work with other people because I didn't want anyone telling me how to do my art. But then I realized that collaborating with others didn't mean losing my voice—it just meant finding new ways to express it."

Her words hung in the air, and Allen found himself thinking about what she said. Maybe he was afraid—afraid of letting go, afraid of making the wrong decision, afraid of being swept up in something bigger than himself. But maybe Hazel was right. Maybe letting someone else in wouldn't destroy his vision. It might even help him reach new heights.

"I guess it's something I need to think about," Allen said finally.

Hazel nodded. "Just don't wait too long. Opportunities like this don't come around every day."

They sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes before Hazel stood up, slinging her camera over her shoulder.

"Well, I've got to get going," she said, offering him a smile. "But hey, if you ever want some new photos for your social media or anything, let me know. I'd love to shoot you sometime."

Allen chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

As Hazel walked away, Allen leaned back on the bench, staring up at the fading sky. He had a lot to think about—Sarah, Benji's advice, Hazel's words, the label's offer. It felt like everything was converging at once, pushing him toward some inevitable decision.

A part of him wished he could just rewind time, go back to when things were simpler—when he was just a guy playing guitar in his bedroom, dreaming about making it big. But that wasn't who he was anymore. Things had changed. He had changed. And whether he liked it or not, he had to move forward.

Taking a deep breath, Allen pulled out his phone and opened the email from Wild Horizon again. His finger hovered over the reply button for a few moments before he finally typed out a message.

"Hey Laura, I've thought about the marketing campaign, and I'm in. Let's do it. Let me know what you need from me to get started."

He hit send before he could second-guess himself, then shoved his phone back into his pocket. It was done. He had made the call. Now all he could do was ride the wave and see where it took him.

As he walked home, a sense of calm settled over him. He wasn't sure if he'd made the right decision, but at least he had made a decision. And for the first time in a while, that felt like progress.

When he got back to his apartment, he sat down at his desk, opened up his guitar case again, and started playing. This time, the music came easier. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty—just the pure, simple joy of creating something new.

Whatever came next, he was ready for it.