by Alex Dyson
‘Great guy. Finger on the pulse. So yeah, anyway, the Phresh intern chick – your friend, Rachel, what was her name?’
‘Grace?’ Rachel offered.
‘That’s the one – I got your number off her. Nice girl.’
A waiter arrived at the table. ‘Can I get you anything to drink?’
‘I’ll grab a pale ale,’ said Jai. ‘What are you guys after?’
‘I’ll get a pinot grigio, thank you,’ Rachel said smoothly.
Caleb was impressed with how adult his sister sounded. She was really relaxing into the invented role of manager. They looked at him.
‘Um, I’ll just have a water, thanks,’ he said, his mouth audibly dry.
Jai looked at Caleb expectantly. ‘Are you sure? You can get anything – I’m buying. Except maybe beer, I might get in trouble for that.’ Jai laughed, showing extremely white teeth.
‘Okay, um, yeah. Maybe a Coke then?’
The waiter nodded and left.
‘So anyway, man, I loved “Ella”. I do a lot of work with new artists at TransAtlantic and I’ve got to say it’s one of the most exciting prospects I’ve seen in a while. The other songs you sent through have promise, too; you’ve really got a handle on production. How long have you been making music for?’
Caleb was reeling. This was so much information to take in, and he didn’t know what to say. It kind of depended on what Jai meant by ‘making’ music.
The first time he played music would have been his short-lived piano lessons when he was five, but if Jai meant producing on Ableton, well, Caleb had been doing that for a few years. But he didn’t want to overstate anything …
‘Well …’
And he’d only started working on ‘Ella’ a year ago …
‘Caleb’s always been fascinated with music,’ Rachel interjected, apparently unable to let her brother flounder any longer. ‘But he’s spent the best part of four years cooped up in his bedroom making songs, haven’t you mate? He’s kept a lot of it secret, to be honest!’ Rachel gave him a playful punch on the arm.
Jai grinned. ‘Well, it’s very lucky he’s got a sister who’s also a manager, hey?’
Rachel smiled bashfully, flicking Caleb the briefest of glances. She’d done one semester of marketing before switching to project management, and given management was in the title, she said that counted.
‘So, I’m a big believer in being straight up,’ Jai continued. ‘Caleb, I’m not sure if you’re in the market for a label at this early stage, but on behalf of TransAtlantic Records, I’d love to extend an opportunity to officially engage in discussions about getting you a development deal for the BVTTON project. We think with our organisation behind you, we can capitalise on the momentum you’re getting from “Ella”.’
Caleb’s mouth went dry. Momentum? Capitalise? Getting?! The song had only been played twice!
Jai seemed to read his mind. ‘Look, I know it’s a lot to take in, so how about before we make any big decisions, I give you a bit of info about TransAtlantic …’
The next hour and twelve minutes was a blur. Jai described everything about the business. Who he managed. Gigs he’d been to. How he was one of the top A&R guys in the company (A&R apparently standing for Artist and Repertoire). The whole thing sounded like a totally different world to Caleb; a world he’d only gazed at through the extremely long telescope of futile aspiration, like a wannabe astronaut hoping one day to be sent out into the universe.
Luckily for this astronaut, Rachel did most of the talking. Caleb just sat and listened intently while drinking his Coke and eating a chicken parmigiana. He had to admit that for a faux manager, Rachel did an incredible job. Even if she wasn’t his sister, he’d probably hire her after the way she spoke to Jai about music and life and whatever.
In fact, Jai didn’t seem too interested in focusing on Caleb at all, which made Caleb a lot more comfortable. Instead, Jai and Rachel discussed bands they liked. Things Jai liked about the industry and things he didn’t. What a ‘rider’ was (when a venue gives a band whatever food and drinks they want). And the strength of this year’s Splendour in the Grass line-up.
‘It’s huge that they managed to get Greek Tragedy, they should go off. I can’t wait to see Jake Townsend too,’ said Jai, taking a final bite of his steak.
‘I love his song “Turbulence”,’ Caleb managed to say.
‘Yeah, it’s great, man,’ Jai said. ‘Have you been to Splendour before?’
‘No. I wanted to go with Rachel a few years ago, but … I couldn’t.’
‘Dude, you should come this year then! Just say the word and I’ll get you tickets.’
Caleb’s eyes lit up. ‘Seriously?’ he squeaked.
‘You wanna come too, Rachel?’
‘Um, yeah!’
Caleb looked at his sister with an expression that said, Is this even real life? A song on the radio? An offer of a record label meeting? Free tickets to Splendour in the Grass, the music festival he’d been dreaming of since he was thirteen?
‘That’s settled then,’ Jake said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. ‘Now, I better shoot back to the office, so let’s not commit to anything official just yet. I just wanted to let you know that TransAtlantic’s really interested in doing something with you.’
Caleb looked at Rachel. Rachel looked at Caleb. She gave him a silent nod and a sneaky thumbs up.
‘Um, that could be great.’
‘Awesome, man,’ Jai said smoothly. ‘You don’t have to decide now – I don’t want to rush you, it’s a big decision. Just thinking ahead though, if I were you, I’d want to get “Ella” up on Spotify and Apple Music quickly to make sure you’re receiving royalties. If you’re cool with it, I’ve got some contacts I could talk to this arvo to try to launch it on those platforms, and you can start getting reimbursed for all the listens you’re getting. No commitment or anything, just helping you out.’
‘That would be excellent,’ said Rachel.
Caleb nodded, his insides squirming. His own song on Spotify? Another dream checked off the list.
And more opportunities for Ella to hear the song he’d written about her.
‘Great. Now, they’ll need a photo for your profile. Would you like me to organise a new one? You can use the one you’ve got on SoundCloud but, to be honest, it kinda looks like it was done in MS Paint.’
‘It was,’ said Caleb.
Jai laughed. ‘In that case, I’m considering this an emergency. What are you doing Thursday?’
‘Um, school, probably.’
‘Pfft, what was I thinking? Of course. Well, if you can take an afternoon off, I know a photographer who can help us out with something new. Here’s my card, send me an email and we’ll hook it up.’
Jai reached into his tastefully ripped jeans and pulled out an off-white business card with an embossed TransAtlantic logo on it. He handed it to Rachel. ‘There you go. Now, any questions?’
There was one. A burning question. A question Caleb had been needing to ask. And maybe this guy, with all his connections and meetings, would be the one person who could make his final unfulfilled dream come true.
‘I have one,’ Caleb said. ‘Would it be possible to, um … maybe … change the name of the song?’
Jai looked confused. ‘Woah, wasn’t expecting that. Why do you want to change it?’
‘It’s just, um …’ Caleb looked at Rachel, who took pity on him.
‘Well, Jai, to be honest, Ella is a real person, and Caleb is a bit embarrassed.’
Caleb felt five years old.
‘Ohhhhh, haha. Well, look mate, they’re your songs so you can call them whatever you like, but since Phresh FM has already started pushing “Ella”, my advice would be to bite the bullet and stick with it, for consistency.’
Caleb cringed, but couldn’t fault the logic. Jai glanced at his watch. ‘Anyway, if that’s it, I better head back. But I’ll hit up my contacts at the streaming services so hopefully we can get this project fast-
tracked.’
‘That would be great, Jai, thanks,’ said Rachel.
‘Pleasure talking to you, Rachel, you’re a delight. Caleb – keep it up, mate. You’ve got a big future ahead of you.’ He gave Caleb a firm handshake. ‘Here’s hoping we can be a part of it.’
With a final dashing smile, Jai got up, leaving far more money than was necessary on the table.
Caleb and Rachel watched him give the hostess a fist-bump on his way out the door. It was official; he was the coolest person Caleb had ever met.
‘He’s the coolest person I’ve ever met,’ said Rachel. She turned to Caleb, excitement finally bubbling over. ‘Caleeeeb, you’ve done so well! This is massive, we’re in such a good position, and their company sounded great, and the food was awesome, and just … wow. What did you reckon?’
Caleb was speechless. This in itself wasn’t unusual, but he did find that he was just nodding incessantly.
‘I mean, as your manager,’ Rachel said, putting a bit of extra salsa on the word, ‘I should say “check your options when it comes to labels”, but this guy seemed legit, don’t you think?’
Caleb couldn’t help but agree. The nodding continued.
‘Caleb! Words? You’re never going to get another opportunity like this!’
Maybe it was the food, or the Coke, or the massiveness of what had just happened, but Caleb suddenly felt paralysed. Here he was, in a fancy restaurant, in the city, on a school day, with a record company rep wanting to sign him. And he’d only heard his song on the radio YESTERDAY.
If Caleb said yes, it could change his life.
And it would probably also open him up to the ridicule of his entire school – and potentially ruin his chances with the love of his life. Or maybe worse – any chance of ever being friends with her again.
But then again, would it? A tiny, secret part of him wondered whether Miralee was right. Maybe this was the grand gesture he’d needed to make all along. Probably not, but … maybe.
In the end, there was only one thing to say.
Unfortunately, Caleb said something else.
‘That was a good parma.’
Rachel high-fived her own face. ‘What did you think about Jai? And the deal?’
‘Oh, that? Yeah, let’s do it,’ Caleb said. ‘On one condition. If you’re managing me, you’re not allowed to move out.’
Rachel frowned, but it was kind of a smirky frown. ‘I suppose it would be easier to keep an eye on you from down the hall.’
Caleb smiled at that. Negotiating was fun. He and Rachel shook hands.
This was going to be interesting.
CHAPTER 7
That night, Caleb barely slept. It was an approximation of sleep. An imitation. The cheap, Southeast Asian Suprene knock-off of sleep.
It was dark, sure. Caleb had his eyes closed, check. But there was not a moment where his mind stopped racing. Instead, he lay awake trying to digest not only pasta with a defrosted meat sauce bag, but also the events of the last few days.
Was it real? It was tough to know, because what appeared to be happening in his real life seemed to very closely resemble his dreams.
Had his song really been played on the radio? Had he really had a meeting with TransAtlantic Records? Was he finally going to Splendour in the Grass? It was amazing and terrifying all at once. He wasn’t ready, that was for sure. He wished he was older, and better, and cooler than he was. He wished he was like Jai. Confident. Worthy. Capable of handling all these things happening to him. And, above all, of all the songs that could have gotten out, he wished it hadn’t been ‘Ella’.
He had to tell her. Had to swallow his pride and stop hopelessly holding out for an apology.
Caleb checked the time. Rachel would be waiting. He pushed back the covers.
The year ten locker rooms were on the east side of the school in an old portable surrounded by some graffitied wooden picnic tables. These tables were famous for having one of the highest D&BGraffperCM^2*3 in the southern hemisphere, and Caleb was currently using them as his outpost; his sniper nest for surveying the coming and going of students. If Ella was walking past, Caleb would see her. Then, he could finally tell her what was going on.
If she didn’t know already.
He had his earbuds in, playing Alice Ivy, pumping himself up for his moment. It was getting close to the first class of the day. Maybe he’d have to wait until recess.
No.
Wait.
There she was.
She wasn’t alone. Esther Baddeley and Kofi Owusu were walking with her. Away from the lockers. Dammit. Could he drag her away? He realised he didn’t know how he was going to start. Caleb didn’t even really understand what was going on – so how could he explain it to Ella? Maybe he should wait? If he waited, she would hear the song eventually, and have to come and talk to him first. That seemed fair. And easier. God this was hard. Ella and her unintentional bodyguards disappeared around a corner. Maybe he could do it at recess?
Music was the first class on a Wednesday. Miralee greeted Caleb with a squeal.
‘Hey! Where were you yesterday? Oh my god, how amazing is it that they’re playing your song! I’ve heard it, like, six times since Monday and –’
‘MIRALEE!’ Caleb accidentally said this too loudly, cutting Miralee off. ‘Sorry, it’s just – I don’t really want people to know,’ he whispered. ‘Not yet. Not until I get a chance to clear things up with Ella.’
‘Oh. Okay. Fair enough.’ She leaned in to whisper to him. ‘When are you going to do that?’
Caleb sighed. ‘I’m hoping a little sooner than never.’
Miralee nodded, but looked bashful.
‘Why? You haven’t told anyone yet, have you?’
‘No, no, no. Not really,’ she said.
Caleb’s brow furrowed.
‘I mean, I told Dana. And a few people might have seen my Snapchat from the car.’ Caleb groaned. ‘But I didn’t tag you!’ Miralee added hopefully.
‘Okay, well yeah, if you wouldn’t mind just, you know …’ ‘For sure,’ said Miralee. She seemed apologetic. Caleb appreciated it.
‘Are you okay? You look pretty bad,’ Miralee added. Caleb didn’t appreciate that as much.
‘Yeah. Just a rough sleep. Yesterday was, um …’ He didn’t really know where to begin with that, either.
Luckily, the Music teacher, Mr Hommelhoff, suddenly interjected. ‘All right everyone, you know what to do. Your projects aren’t going to write themselves!’ he huffed over the din of the class.
‘What song are you doing again?’ Caleb asked Miralee.
‘Ariana Grande, her new one – “Dating is Giving Me Migraines”. What about you?’
‘Jake Townsend, “Turbulence”.’
‘Cool, well, good luck!’ Miralee went to the computers at the back, while Caleb stuck with his pen and paper. While he preferred computers for making music, he liked to do school assignments acoustically. Sticking his earbuds in again, Caleb went back to working on his project: an in-depth analysis of a song. Any song. He’d picked the one that meant the most to him.
It’s hard to fly, when you’re stuck in the sky
It’s hard to fly, when you’re stuck in the sky
Jake Townsend wailed over the huge chorus chords as Caleb listened closely. When the song finished, he wrote a heading at the top of his exercise book: THEMES.
He hesitated. It was tough to dissect something you appreciated as a whole. He tried scribbling:
Life holding you back.
Oppression.
Air pressure at altitude.
He hit play again. He wanted to think about it properly. Unwrap the context and explain the songwriter’s intent. But it wasn’t long before he caught himself applying Jake Townsend’s lyrics to his own situation. He was but a passenger with his world shaking him all around, and he didn’t know what to do. The song repeated. How was he going to explain everything to Ella? To his mum? Did he really want all the trouble of photo shoots and
interviews right now? Couldn’t he wait until school finished, so he had time to really focus on it, and write some songs he was actually proud of?
‘Turbulence’ played again. G minor, D minor, F. G minor, D minor, F.
Had Ella actually heard his song?
A knock at the classroom door jolted Caleb out of his thoughts.
The door slid open, and someone poked their head in. Their beautiful, beautiful head.
‘Hi, sorry. Is Caleb Clifford here?’
Oh my god.
Ella Westlake.
Standing in the doorway.
Asking for him.
‘Caleb?’ Mr Hommelhoff seemed confused.
‘Yeah, the principal needs to see him.’
The silence was deafening as the whole class looked in his direction.
‘All right then, Caleb. Off you go.’
Caleb gingerly rose from his chair and followed Ella out of the room. He looked over at her. She smiled as they started walking.
After a brief moment, she spoke.
‘So, how’s it going?’ she asked. Her voice sounded like bubbly lime cordial today.
‘Good,’ he answered. His voice was more reminiscent of sawdust and tree sap.
They walked in silence before she spoke again. ‘So, why didn’t you say anything?’
‘What?’
‘This morning. When you were watching me from the table. Why didn’t you say anything?’ She didn’t seem angry. In fact, she sounded almost playful.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why didn’t you tell me you wrote the song?’
Caleb felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. And then he felt the cold wash of something like relief; the weight of a secret-that-wasn’t-a-secret-anymore suddenly being lifted.
‘Well, y’know … I didn’t want to talk myself up?’
‘That’s quite humble of you.’
They walked past the Art rooms, but before Caleb could head to the office, Ella grabbed his hand and pulled him away. He went hot.
‘What are you doing?’ he stammered.
‘The principal didn’t actually want to see you. I did …’
Caleb’s heart beat faster as Ella silently led him out of the building and towards the school fence. They climbed over and sat on the grass in the park next to the school.