Katie Cox vs. the Boy Band
Page 15
“But…the iTunes chart won’t include all the CD sales, will it? Adrian, you said you sold a few in the shop, and maybe other places have sold them too… I mean, some people still like me, right?”
“Maybe,” said Tony. “But a handful of CDs won’t change anything. You’re not popular right now. Not with Karamel fans. And after recent revelations, not with Katie Cox fans, either. You’re not popular with anyone.”
“Maybe not in an obvious way. But changing your mind, it’s not a bad thing. It’s good, really, so if I just—”
“Katie, there’s no arguing with the comments.”
“But—”
Tony tapped something into his computer, and then, like he was some kind of magician or something and this was his final show-stopping trick, he swung the screen around.
There was me, at my concert, singing “Can’t Stand the Boy Band.” And underneath:
this is kinda mean
Katie Hater you are gonna be round for like maybe 1 month maybe too but Karamel will live 4 eva
My god this is shockingly bad and she looks AWFUL
Liar u said you hated Karamel but you love them u are full of LIES I don’t trust u anymore I thought u were real but u are fake like all the rest
This song, her voice and face is disgusting. How did this get released?
this song made me vomit KRISTIAN I LOVE YOU I WILL NEVER STOP LOVING YOU
Disappointed. The whole thing is so low She should be fed to the sharks
Chart battle ROFL WE SLAYED YOU KATIE COX
Why is this happening? I dont understand no no no NO
Okay, I’m kind of tired of this. She needs to come back to what she was when she started out
Was Katie mad when she made the video? Her eyes are mad
it started out annoying, then got bad
Her first song was pure gold this is pure crap Last week I actually liked her now I hate her oh dear…
Back then she looked and dressed so much prettier but nowadays she doesn’t
bad song bad attitude plus her face is GROSS
download song and play in reverse it is the devil speaking
already 320k dislikes well i disliked it too
I’m crying I thought u were real Katie but you love boy bands like all the rest
Her real name is Katie Plops hahahahaa
what is going on???? Duz she hate them or luv them? Dont undertsand
am i the only one who just want to cry in sadness because she is not who I thought
like come on
Trash music ugly girl GO AWAY STUPID SONG
So much hate, so many people, and it kept coming, more and more and more, and all I could think was that I didn’t deserve this, that no one deserved this.
And that I should have been more sympathetic to poor Nicole when she’d been trolled back on the bus.
Back when it was all still okay. Before the end of the world.
My vision was beginning to blur, but I wouldn’t let him know. I wouldn’t let my voice even betray a hint of what I was feeling as I said, “So you think my next single should be something more positive? I can do that. I can totally do that.”
“Positive is good,” said Tony. “And I can’t wait to hear it.”
“Great!” I said. “I’ll send something over as soon as I have it. Maybe even tonight!”
“If you like,” said Tony. “But…Katie, we can’t release it. The album isn’t going to happen. You know that, don’t you?”
“I…” I didn’t.
“No one’s denying your talent, but we think maybe you are not quite ready. For this. The music industry. You do understand.”
Such small words, but each one so heavy. Like stones thrown into deep water. Down, down, down.
“I understand,” I said.
“We’ve loved working with you. I’m sure our paths will cross again. When you’re older.”
“Of course,” I said. “In fact, it’s sort of what I was going to say anyway.”
“Very wise,” said Tony, getting to his feet in a way that said, Leave now, Katie. I do not want you in my office anymore. And then there was mumbling about how the awards show dropped me, something about lack of representation by Tony, I wasn’t on the list anymore, but I’d stopped listening.
Thank goodness for Adrian, sweeping me up in jackets and bags and a bunch of Let’s stay in touch and How’s Emma, by the way? All that middle-age stuff that I’d never understood the point of before—I could see now that it was for moments like this. All the garbage about housing prices and the weather and trains, I suddenly understood it was like bubble wrap or the foam pieces you get in packages: padding out the conversation, protecting the breakable thing sitting in the middle.
The broken thing. Me.
And all the while Adrian was talking, we were moving closer and closer to the door, and then we were in the elevator, and I made sure to keep my eyes away from the mirror so that while I could feel the tears on my face, I couldn’t see them, and then finally, I was out in the street, the doors of Top Music closing behind me.
Conversational Bubble Wrap
The store-brand version tastes just fine
Have you looked it up online?
Can’t stay long, I have a meeting
Turn down your gas central heating
Adult talk is pointless crap
Conversational bubble wrap
Goodness me, I hate this weather
They are nice, are they real leather?
Want my problems? I’ve got plenty
Detour down the A120
Adult talk, let’s recap
Is conversational bubble wrap
But some days life can be too real
Sometimes I’m afraid to feel
Please don’t ask me how I’ve been
I’d rather chat about the queen
Fuel prices are monumental
Kids these days are going mental
Got to get back, trim our lawn
It’s between the beige and fawn
But now I see my life’s a trap
I think I want some bubble wrap
I got home to find Mom surrounded by every shoe we’d ever owned, which was a lot of shoes.
“I’m clearing out the hall closet,” she said as she crawled back into it.
“I see,” I said. Then to her backside: “Top Music, they, er, dropped me.”
She shot out backward. Like a champagne cork from a bottle of champagne, if the bottle was a closet and the cork was a butt.
“When…what…?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
She was pulling me toward her, and I felt the sadness coming, so I talked very fast. If I just made a wall of words, then maybe it wouldn’t get through.
“I don’t think I’m especially ready for any of this, and performing’s not really my thing.”
“I never liked that man,” said Mom.
“Me neither,” I said. “Well, honestly, I did, then I didn’t, then I wasn’t sure. Then I did. And now I don’t.”
“He should be protecting you,” said Mom. “Not dropping you the second things get difficult.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But…they did get difficult because of me.”
“Still,” said Mom. “This is your chance, isn’t it? To get back to normal.” She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I can’t stand to see you so unhappy, Katie.”
“I’m not…” I began. And then, because there was no way I could even begin to pretend that I was happy about any of this, I said, “I’ll think about it. I promise.”
She didn’t say anything, but her hug told me that, finally, I was on my way to doing the right thing.
“Is there anything for dinner?” I asked her shoulder.
Eventually I blew my nose and went to investigate the food situation, leaving her in a mountain of old rain boots.
I mean, I do know I should have helped or something, but there’s getting back to normal, and then there’s clearing out the hall closet. I wasn’t going to be that normal.
• • •
And then I had to tell Mands.
“Just so you know,” I said as we lay in the dark, failing to sleep. “It’s all over, and I’m not a pop star anymore because Top Music doesn’t want me because everyone hates me. Just so you know.”
I heard her sit up. “I saw that it was all going badly…I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I’m thinking I’m done with it all, anyway.”
We lay there in a silence that was intense.
I think Mands must have felt it too, because she put her light on and said, “Wanna hear something good? There’s this band I found called New York Scandal. They’re these four guys from Hull. They’re playing at the shop. I think you’ll really like them…their story is so inspiring…”
“Maybe I don’t want to be inspired.”
“So they do this great riff. I’ve never heard anything quite like it. Or maybe I have now that I think of it. They’re kind of Daft Punk, in a funny kind of way, only more acoustic…”
And as she spoke, I saw how I’d never be free.
Music isn’t just something you occasionally go and do.
It was everywhere.
Winding itself through my family and my friendships and my laptop and my phone.
If I wanted to be free, if I wanted to be normal, then there couldn’t be any more listening to gig recordings and there couldn’t be any more jamming sessions. Or guitar lessons. Or new albums or karaoke or afternoons at Vox Vinyl flicking through the racks.
Because if I did that, then the next thing would be picking up my guitar, my shiny new guitar, and then I’d be writing songs, and that’s what got me into this disaster in the first place.
If I wanted to be normal, if I wanted to be like Paige and Sofie and Savannah and Lacey, if I wanted to be happy, then I’d have to cut out every last little piece.
“Not tonight,” I said to Amanda.
“You’re right. It’s late…”
“And not tomorrow morning, either.”
She rubbed her eyes. “I thought you cared about this stuff, K. The shop, my gigs…”
“Sorry, Mands. I did. But I’m…just…finished.”
We lay there for a minute, maybe two. My head was full to overflowing with thoughts, and my stomach was just the same, only with chicken-shrimp chow mein. Which reminded me.
“By the way, Dad said to give you this.” I tossed Mands the little box, which she caught and then held. Then she let slip to the floor.
“I don’t want anything from him. He—”
“Gave Mom over two thousand dollars.” That got her.
“Did he?”
“Yes! Plus, he bought us really good Chinese takeout. There’s still some in the fridge, I think.” Then I remembered. “No, I finished it. But he’s really trying to make things right.”
“It’s not enough. He’s…”
“Our father. And he’s trying to make up for everything. I told him that he needed to start paying his way. Like you said. And he spoke to Catriona, even though he didn’t want to, and he got the money back that he’d lent her for her stupid Pilates studio, and he gave it to Mom.”
“Good. That’s exactly what he should have done. A while ago.”
I hesitated. But I’d come this far. “If he can do that, can’t you at least give him a chance?”
“I don’t want his jewelry,” said my sister. “And it’s going to take more than a little bit of money—”
“Over two thousand dollars! He can’t do anything right, can he?”
“As far as you’re concerned, he can’t do anything wrong,” said Amanda, turning off the light.
So I rolled over and went to sleep. Which wasn’t the easiest, given the amount of leftover Chinese food I had to digest, but I managed.
Unfortunately I then got up an hour later to drink a gallon of water.
And an hour after that to pee.
Leftover Chinese Takeout Blues
I’m suffering, baby
I got food remorse
Oh I’m suffering, baby
Of silver carton food remorse
I guess I should’ve held back
On the sweet and sour sauce
I got them blues
Got them leftover Chinese takeout blues
Lying on my side
Feeling incredibly full
Whoa, I’m lying on my side
Feeling incredibly full
I guess all I can say is
Shouldn’t have had that duck spring roll
I got them blues
Got them leftover Chinese takeout blues
Trying to sit up
In unbearable pain
Yes, trying to sit up
And I’m in the most unbearable pain
Shouldn’t have finished off
All the chicken-shrimp chow mein
I got them blues
Got them leftover Chinese takeout blues
But if I could live this evening over
I know I’d do the same again
So, what do you know, I only woke up with the best idea for a song. It was called “Leftover Chinese Takeout Blues.” The words were ready and waiting. I had my new guitar tucked under my arm and was just getting to grips with the chords when I remembered.
No more music.
I stuck the guitar back into its case and shoved it under my bed, and by the time I’d finished breakfast, I’d almost managed to forget about it.
What was harder was fighting the need to stick my headphones in my ears and have some Lana del Rey to take me down the lane. You have to be in a very specific mood for Lana—and when you are, it’s extremely important to put her on right away before it passes.
Only, I wasn’t doing music anymore.
Instead, I listened to the traffic and the birds and the wind, and they were just as good.
Almost as good. They were fine.
Jaz was at the bus stop, talking to Nicole. She didn’t look at me.
“Morning,” I said.
Nicole nodded. Jaz didn’t say anything at all. I tried again. “What’s the goss?”
I don’t know where I got the word goss.
“We’re talking about the dance,” said Jaz.
“Ooh, great! That totally fits in with my new normal life. Because I’m not a pop star anymore. I’m a normal person who does stuff like going to the dance.”
“Me and Nicole are talking about the dance,” said Jaz, and then she turned her back on me.
Hmm.
Later in our classroom, things weren’t much better. Lacey was sitting deep in the Savannah Zone, and I had to battle through a wall of Prada Candy before I got to a conversation that went: “It’s the biggest shame that my boyfriend Kolin can’t come to the dance. He has this awards thing at Wembley that night. It’s so annoying, but what can I do? I have to be supportive of him because of how he’s my boyfriend.”
“Hey, Lace,” I said. “So. Dance chat! What are you going to wear? Should we go to the thrift store?”
Lacey looked at me like I was a fly that had landed on a glazed doughnut she was about to eat.
“I should think that someone like you has better places to shop.”
“No!” I had to stop myself from grabbing her by the shoulders. “I’m being normal again! Completely boring and music free!”
“Li
ke me,” said Lacey.
“Yes! I gave up the whole pop star thing. It wasn’t exactly working out. I’m going to get back to doing ordinary person stuff. Like shopping at the thrift store. And going to the dance. You’ll come with me, won’t you, bestie?”
“Actually, I’m going solo,” said Lacey.
“We can still go together,” I said.
“I’m going solo with Savannah.”
“Oh. Right.”
And then I had an idea.
“Well, that’s fine actually. You should go with Savannah. Because…I’m going to ask Dominic Preston!”
Going to the dance with a boy. Now that was normal.
“If you like,” said Lacey.
“I do like! Him! Which is why I’m going to ask him.”
“He’s over there,” said Paige helpfully.
“Later,” I said. This was all moving a little fast. “I’m going to ask him later.”
“Why not now?” said Sofie.
“Because of assembly.”
“Assembly’s not for ten minutes,” said Paige. “Hey, Dom? Katie has something to ask you.”
And the four of them turned and stared at what was turning into the Katie Cox Humiliation Show.
Dominic Preston slid down off the desk and came over. He really was very good-looking. Long and lean, with nice dark eyes, and hands that looked as though they’d be smooth and warm, not wet and trembly, like mine.
“Hey, Katie. Wassup?”
“Nothing,” I said.
“But you just said you were going to—” Lacey began.
“Okay. Okay! Um, Dominic Preston. I wondered—” I began before clearing my throat and starting again, a lot lower. “I just wondered, whether you’d like to come to the dance. With someone. That someone being me.”
Those good-looking eyes blinked. “We don’t really know each other.”
“No. But…”
“I’m not sure the dance’s exactly the place for a first date.”
“No,” I said, wanting the earth to open up and…not swallow me, because that would be terrifying…but maybe hold me for a little bit until everyone had left and then let me out again. “No. You’re right. I’m sorry. I—”