Chapter 51: Celebration
[Chapter 51: Celebration]
In the silent conference room, the only sound was the rustle of paper as Jesse held up a coffee cup, conducting his last review of the contract. Ryan glanced over at him while Taylor's dad sat back in his chair, dozing off.
Jesse looked up, pushed a copy of the contract toward Ryan, and said, "Everything looks good. Just double-check the key figures, like the royalty split. If there are no questions, we can officially prepare to sign."
Scooter took a deep breath, appearing even more relaxed than Ryan.
...
Once Ryan and Scooter finished taking photos together, they shook hands in front of the camera, both wearing smiles.
"You know, I'm actually only a few years older than you. I grew up in Greenwich, Connecticut, just across a little strait from Long Island. I came to Atlanta for college but didn't end up graduating," Scooter said, hinting at his "college dropout" status as he introduced himself to Ryan.
"Today, I'll contact the legal department at Republic Records to clear up the counterfeiters on digital download platforms," Scooter said right away.
Ryan had already familiarized himself with the situation during their first official meeting at his home.
"Harlem Shake is really hot right now, we need to strike while the iron is hot. You'll start your radio tour this week and might also have some press interviews. I'll give you a heads-up in advance," Scooter continued.
The radio tour was a rite of passage for every artist, and Ryan was no exception.
"Oh, and make sure to give my assistant your social media account usernames and passwords. She'll take over from here so you can focus on your radio promotion," Scooter added, giving Ryan a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"I've already handed that to someone else; I just hired them," Ryan quickly replied.
In reality, he hadn't found an operator yet. But he certainly wasn't about to give control of his social media to Scooter.
Scooter chuckled, "You've got to understand, trust is the key to success."
"Of course, I actually trust you a lot," Ryan said, nodding.
"Good to hear," Scooter replied, focusing on Ryan with a smile.
"By the way, I assigned my songwriting rights management to an independent record label in Europe, Spinnin' Records. I mentioned that before," Ryan added, recalling Taylor's earlier reminder.
"I know, I'll have my legal team reach out to that Dutch company for confirmation," Scooter responded.
"Sounds good," Ryan agreed.
At least it seemed like they were getting along famously.
...
After parting ways with Scooter and his team, Ryan walked out of the hotel with Taylor's dad and his friend.
"You look a bit down, kid," Jesse noted as he observed Ryan's expression wasn't as joyful as he'd expected.
Ryan forced a smile, understanding that this was the price of signing a short-term contract; he had to keep his guard up.
"Ryan, why don't you come fishing with me and Uncle Jesse?" Taylor's dad suddenly suggested.
"Do I need a helmet?" Ryan asked absentmindedly.
"Of course not," Taylor's dad shrugged it off, thinking it was just a bad joke.
...
On the tranquil river, a speedboat drifted gently across the water. Suddenly, Jesse's fishing rod bent sharply, and he quickly reeled in a small black bass.
Ryan quickly grabbed the landing net, bending down to secure the fish. At that moment, he felt like a caddy on a golf course, assisting the two older men.
"Today's catch is fantastic!" Jesse exclaimed with excitement.
"I didn't initially want her to take this path. I'm not really familiar with this industry, and I can't offer much help. Plus, you know how chaotic it is," Scott said from the other side.
When he said he couldn't offer much "help," he meant that compared to the financial industry, an average ten-year-old girl just couldn't find a gig to perform live at an event like the U.S. Open.
"I had my secretary search for your videos online. Honestly, I couldn't make sense of the wild stuff I saw, but I found it interesting. A one-year contract is pretty short; after it ends, you'll have plenty of opportunities to plan your future, whether that's going to school or pursuing music further. I'll still be here to help you," he continued.
"But remember, treat her right and don't let her down. I only have this one daughter," Scott's tone shifted as he suddenly cast out his fishing line.
Clearly, he had sensed something from the night before with Taylor. Whether or not the old man's promise was effective might be up for debate, but his intimidating presence was certainly real.
...
In the evening, after parting with the two older men, Ryan immediately called the A&R representative at Spinnin' Records.
"I might need your help with something," Ryan said, making his request, mainly for them to keep something under wraps.
"That's a bit difficult, I'll have to check in," the other person replied, sounding unsure.
"Just consider it my favor owed to Spinnin'," Ryan insisted.
"I can try, but I can't guarantee anything. You'd better be prepared for both outcomes," the other person countered.
"Thanks."
...
Afterward, Ryan called a lady at Atlantic Records.
"Sorry, Scooter gave me an offer I couldn't refuse. Maybe we'll have a chance to collaborate next year," Ryan explained, having learned the art of making promises.
The woman vented about Scooter ruining industry standards but didn't say much more to Ryan.
...
"Boom!"
As soon as Ryan entered his house, he heard the sound of fireworks going off. The lights in the living room turned on, and Abigail, Joel, Paul, Hank, and Austin -- his classmates and friends from the past -- were all cheering, with Trey setting off the fireworks by his side, but Taylor was notably absent.
"What do you all want to eat?" Ryan asked, not really planning to celebrate but figuring he couldn't just send everyone away now that they were there.
"On a day as important as this, what's the point of eating at home? Ryan should contribute something," Paul immediately suggested.
Trey chimed in with a smile, "Aren't we going to taste Ryan's cooking?"
The crowd soon felt thankful they hadn't listened to Paul's suggestion.
...
"When did you learn to cook?" Paul asked, his mouth full of greasy food.
"Shit, you're better off in the kitchen than on stage as a DJ," Joel gasped, inhaling hot fried food.
"At least you won't be unemployed," Abigail added, her eyes turned into crescent moons as she laughed.
Ryan just sat there, listening to their praise without touching his utensils.
"Save me some for my sister!" Austin called out between bites.
"Is she coming too?" Ryan became alert immediately.
"Of course, but she'll be late because she's busy working on her new album," Abigail casually mentioned.
"I'll be right back. I need to use the bathroom," Ryan said before quickly getting up.
...
Once inside the bathroom, he immediately called Taylor.
"Why can't I come? You just want to play both sides!" Taylor shouted on the other end; she was already on her way.
"I honestly don't care," Ryan replied brazenly. "But your brother is here, and if you and Abigail have a fallout, once your parents find out, we'll be cut off for life. Your dad just warned me this afternoon."
In the world they lived in, the only thing that truly intimidated Taylor was her parents.
"Well... I'll come over later," Taylor mumbled, her previous aggressiveness toned down, likely realizing she had been in the wrong.
"Can't you just come tomorrow?"
"I want to eat your cooking," she said playfully.
...
When Ryan opened the bathroom door, he saw Abigail standing outside, and his heart skipped a beat.
"I was just about to knock. Who are you on the phone with?" Abigail asked.
"Legal at Schoolboy Records; they're looking into cases of people impersonating Harlem Shake's work," Ryan nodded.
Abigail nodded in response.
One left as the other entered.
...
As the dinner neared its end, friends began to trickle out, and the last to leave was Abigail, who lingered at the door, cuddling with Ryan for a long while.
"Hmm." Taylor, watching from her parked car around the corner, narrowed her eyes and observed them through the windshield. She couldn't help but scoff; when she saw Abigail glance their way, she quickly ducked.
*****
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