Chapter 9: Back to School

[Chapter 9: Back to School]

"Can I call you back later? Honey, I'm just really tired today." Ryan said, wrapping his arm around the woman's waist and whispering in her ear. "You have my contact info." The woman, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, playfully pinched Ryan's chest and blew him a kiss as she walked away.

Ryan couldn't help but grab her as she left, sweet-talking her until she finally departed.

Sitting in the car, Joel wore a puzzled expression. As Ryan slid into the passenger seat, he quickly remarked, "I thought you weren't going to come back with me tonight."

Ryan shook his head, 'who knew how things would turn out?'

"You did the right thing," Joel nodded. "When I was just starting at that nightclub not long ago, the situation you described was almost the same. And guess what happened next?"

"Let me guess, theirs was bigger?" Ryan chuckled.

Joel shrugged, probably not too far off from the truth.

Then Ryan mentioned his next steps, explaining that he wasn't in a rush to submit to a record label; he wanted to build an audience online first.

"If I have the choice, I need the label to contact me, not the other way around," Ryan said.

Joel strongly supported this idea. He revealed the tricks of record labels, stating that after signing with a singer, they would promise an upfront payment to cover recording and promotion costs. It sounded like an investment in the artist, but in reality, it was another form of debt. Once the album started making money, they'd deduct that advance first before the artist would see their share.

"What if the producers and studio facilities are also owned by the label? They decide the album's production costs too. If the sales don't cover the advance, your career could be over, unless you find a way to pay that money back."

"Even if the album sells well, the production costs can eat into profits -- returns, promotions, pressing those records -- all those additional costs are controlled by the label. And then there are account periods and taxes. Ninety percent of artists don't make more than $5,000 a year," he added.

"Since Napster came along, the music industry has been in decline, losing hope for the future. With fears rampant, the chaos within the industry thrived, as the Big Four labels claimed 80% of the market. Each label sought to squeeze out the last bit of profit; everyone tried to use their meager power to gain extra rewards. It was worse than during Hollywood's Golden Age. You need to be careful; some people love going after young, fresh talent like you," Joel warned.

...

Returning quietly to Trey's house, Ryan went straight to the study, logged onto the Copyright Office's website, and completed the copyright registration, using Trey's credit card to pay the $50 fee.

Next, he went to YouTube, deleted all of his previous cover videos from his channel, "Ryan Rivers Official Channel," and pondered what new name he should choose. After considering several options, he thought about Dr. Dre and decided to adopt a stage name based on that -- Dr. Ray -- and changed his channel name.

Finally, Ryan opened Ableton Live, trying to enhance his original track but, as Joel had mentioned earlier, there weren't any suitable sound effect plugins available. No matter what adjustments he made, he couldn't get it right.

Would he need to teach himself how to make plugins? Ryan began uploading music videos to YouTube. He certainly didn't know how to create those cool visual effects, so the uploaded video featured just a solid black background.

Next, he registered for all the mainstream social networks under the name Dr. Ray. He prioritized Twitter and MySpace -- being the primary social media platform for young people at the time -- while other networks were mere copies of MySpace.

...

"Bang!" The front door swung open again, and Trey walked in, hands on her hips and an angry expression.

"You'd better give me a good reason... I can already smell the perfume on you; where have you been?" Trey was visibly upset.

"This is a long story; do you want to hear it?" Ryan prepared to press the play button.

Trey quickly shook her head. "I don't care what you did tonight; you need to report to Hendersonville High School first thing tomorrow. Your enrollment application was approved."

...

"Didn't I ask you to come here early? It's already ten o'clock now!"

"When you told me, it was three-thirty in the morning. Why didn't you wake me up?" Ryan shot back.

"I... set an alarm!"

"Does your room even have an alarm clock?"

"It's yours!"

"You didn't actually plan to drive me there, did you?"

"That doesn't matter."

...

Ryan and Trey tiptoed down the hallway, feeling a little guilty for being late, not wanting to disturb the classes in session. They peered into classrooms through the glass windows.

Suddenly, a teacher spotted Ryan and invited him inside, while Trey, not wishing to stick around, turned and left for her job at the production company. Ryan steeled himself to introduce himself but spotted a familiar face in the second-to-last row.

The girl was resting her chin on her hands in a flower-like pose and looked surprised to see Ryan at the podium.

"Find a seat, Rivers," the teacher said.

Ryan didn't think too hard and sat down next to Abigail. Instantly, he felt the other girls in the class glance in his direction, while Abigail proudly smiled. The boys in class wore forlorn expressions. Having modeled for Christian Audigier, Adidas, International Jock, and Hugo Boss, Ryan stood out significantly compared to the typical public high school students.

Before long, the bell rang.

...

"Want some?" Abigail offered Ryan a red Twizzlers candy.

Ryan shook his head. "Where's my locker?"

"I'll take you there!" Abigail immediately stood up, eager to show Ryan the way.

Ryan noticed her enthusiasm but struggled to figure out how to decline. Along the way, he asked about Taylor. "Is she a student here too?"

"She graduated early," Abigail explained.

Dropped out? That made sense; sometimes career paths and academics had to be balanced. This realization gave Ryan some peace.

"She graduated a year and a half early with a GPA of 4.0," Abigail continued.

"Impressive," Ryan whistled.

Looking at it that way, even if she set her guitar down, her grades and family background would make it easy for her to get into a prestigious school.

"Enough about her. Which club are you planning to join? I recommend the Hendersonville swimming team; your height and long arms would give you an advantage, plus you can show off your muscles," Abigail giggled, promoting her team.

However, Ryan had already been reserved for something else.

"I was part of the football team at Pineville High. Before leaving, we made it to the Louisiana 4A finals," Ryan explained.

His return to school rested on his football skills. Just recently, the football coach almost hugged him in the principal's office, expressing that they needed to keep Ryan.

Despite his refusal, Abigail's eyes sparkled with admiration. "4A finals? I didn't know you were that good! Hendersonville really needs a football player like you. What position do you play?"

"Tight end."

Abigail nodded, looking at Ryan with a newfound awe.

Being part of the football team boosted a student's popularity among the girls, and even Taylor wasn't immune to that charm.

...

At the same time, a red Toyota Sequoia pulled into the parking lot outside the school, and Taylor got out of the car with her mother.

"Do you think we'll finally sort out the graduation paperwork?" Taylor asked.

Then, thinking of Abigail, she pulled out her phone and called her friend.

"What's on your agenda this afternoon? ... Football practice? ... Didn't everyone on the team already have girlfriends? ... Why is he there?!" Taylor's voice suddenly rose. When she noticed her mother's glance, she quickly lowered her tone. "Is he really at Hendersonville High now?"

*****

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