Liam's Journey

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Liam's Journey Page 18

by Heidi McLaughlin


  And I need to make it now.

  “Will you help me cut a demo?” I ask, unable to make eye contact.

  “Yeah, I’d be –”

  He’s interrupted when someone screeches his name. My first thought is that my grandma has invited one of his groupies. But that thought changes when I see his face light up. The girl running toward him is excited to see him as well. He stands just as she jumps into his arms. I know I should look away, give these two love birds some privacy, but they’re happiness is infectious. I had that once.

  “I’m so proud of you,” he says as he sets her back on the ground. “Let me introduce you to my friend.”

  When he says friend it hits me square in the chest. He’s my first friend here and even though my grandma says trust no one, I want to trust him.

  “Liam, this is my sister, Yvie.”

  My eyes bug out of my head. My initial thought of this girl being his girlfriend was so far off base, but the way they greeted each other was odd.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I say, standing and shaking her hand.

  “Hi,” she replies shyly, her voice soft and low. I nod at her and sit back, but not without noticing that she’s biting her lower lip and her hands are fiddling with the hem of her sweater. She’s dressed like someone from the fifties with her poufy dress and ballet flats.

  “Yvie was just accepted into one of the best dance schools. The competition is tough, but she nailed her audition.”

  “Harrison, he doesn’t want to hear about that. It’s so stupid,” she asserts in a hushed tone.

  I disagree. “I think it’s great. Congratulations.”

  She smiles brightly. “You do?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you,” she replies, her eyes in a dreamlike state. Her eyelashes are fluttering and her head is slightly bent. She glides slowly, as if she’s dancing and sits down in the empty chair between Harrison and me. She rests on her hand and looks at me, making me feel somewhat awkward.

  Harrison clears his throat. “So the demo?”

  “Oh you’re a musician?”

  “Yvie, what are you doing?” Harrison asks, his voice quizzical.

  She doesn’t look at him when she answers. “Learning about Liam.”

  I smirk and fool around with my lighter. “Knock it off. It’s creepy,” Harrison adds. My lips go tight as I try not to laugh, but yeah I agree with him. “So about the demo, tomorrow?”

  I nod. “Yeah that works.”

  “Great, now go network. Go meet people, Liam, that’s why they’re here.”

  I look around and notice the party has almost doubled in size, at least the people who are hanging out in the backyard has. I get up, take a deep breath and fix my tie. Here goes nothing.

  I finish my four-song set and vacate the stage with Harrison quickly on my heels. It’s been months since I started performing at Metro and I still haven’t even come close to the coveted time-slot that I want. To say it’s taking a toll would be an understatement. I don’t know what else to do. I’m frustrated, tired and wondering if I’m ever going to get a look. If not, someone needs to tell me because my year is almost up and I’m either going back to Beaumont as a musician or a statistic. I prefer the former, but at this point I don’t think it’s going to happen.

  Tonight, I don’t feel like hanging out. I think Harrison knows this. He’s quiet and sitting in his corner messing around with his drumsticks. He’s more than likely feeling the same dejection I am. Since I’ve started playing here I’ve seen six artists get signed, including Layla. They all played the prized performance time and they all left Harrison behind. It has to get to him. Hell, I feel angry for him. I’m pissed for me. I know I’m drawing a crowd, but I’m not rewarded and I’m beginning to think it’s time I start playing in other bars. I’m stupid to put all my eggs in one basket.

  I zip up the canvas case that protects my guitar and sling it over my shoulder. Harrison looks dejected and I don’t know if it’s because I’m bailing or if he’s genuinely hurt that he can’t get a big time gig. He deserves it more than the people he’s playing for.

  “I’m going to head home,” I tell him, stating the obvious. I have a lot of thinking to do and need to do it in the quiet of my bedroom. Since Christmas, I’ve sent out about one hundred demo tapes and have yet to receive a call. I knew it was a long shot, but thought with all the networking I’ve done at the parties my grandma had been having for me, I’d at least get a bite. This is probably a sign, a large neon blinking sign telling me that I’m grasping at straws.

  “It’s gonna happen, man. It just takes time.” Harrison speaks not to me, but to the wall. He doesn’t look at me, leading me to believe it’s just words to keep me coming back.

  “I should probably start playing in other bars. I have a feeling that Trixie either doesn’t like me or doesn’t think I can handle the after dinner crowd. I’ve watched acts move past me and get signed just like that. I gave myself a year to do this and that year is almost up.”

  “What happens after a year?”

  I shrug even though he can’t see me. “I go home.”

  “Which is where?”

  I sigh heavily and realize I can probably tell him anything at this point. He’s the only friend I have here so what’s it going to hurt if he knows?

  “Home is nowhere and everywhere I guess. I’m running from my previous life where I’m the town’s prized possession and it didn’t matter what I did, I could do no wrong.

  “Anyway, I ditched, let people down and now I’m here. I told myself I’d do this for a year and then go home. I either go back a loser or I head home for a visit because I’m so busy I can’t stay for too long.”

  Harrison rotates on his stool with his hands resting in his lap. “You shouldn’t put a time limit on success.”

  I nod, agreeing with him, but this is different. “I know, but I have to make amends for my actions. I figured one year is enough time for people to take me seriously when I tell them that I needed a different life from the one they had planned for me. Thing is, if I go back a failure, my dad will never let me live it down.”

  “I get that. I feel like I’m always letting my mom down. Yvie…” he shakes his head. “She’s going places with her dancing, but here I am playing drums in a house band. Like I said, I just want to play and it pays the bills, but I do wonder what’s out there.”

  “We’re not so different, you and I.”

  “No we’re not,” he agrees.

  I dip my head in acknowledgment and head for the door. Something about this seems final, like I won’t see him after tonight. I hope that’s not the case, but when Trixie calls tomorrow to give me my time-slot I’m going to turn her down. I can’t live as her puppet any longer.

  “See ya around,” I whisper when I get to the end of the dark hallway. I’m not good with goodbyes. This is how it has to be. When I step outside, under the cloud cover, I look back at the door. I feel a pang of regret, but I have to push it down. I need to expand, see what else is out there.

  “Are you Liam Page?” My head turns sharply at the sound of my name. Walking toward me is a businesswoman. Her skirt stops above her knees and stockings cover her legs. Her heels are dangerous spikes that she can likely use as weapons if someone was to attack her. The closer she gets, the more features I can see. Her lips are painted red, her hair is long and very blond. She stops in front of me, sizing me up with her green eyes. She stands a few inches shorter than I do. I shift my weight uncomfortably. I don’t think I’m a fan of being gawked at. “Are you Page?” she asks again.

  “Ye…” I clear my throat and swallow hard. I don’t know who this woman is, but she scares the shit out of me. “Yes,” I say, my voice squeaking like a girl.

  “Sam Moreno, Moreno Entertainment.” We shake hands and I pull away before she can be disgusted with my sweaty palm.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I reply stupidly.

  “I’m not a fan of back alley business,
but since you left stage so abruptly here I am. My father sent me to listen to you play. He said he met you at a party and you later sent him a demo. We don’t care about demos. We like to hear… to feel… the artist. Anyone can fake it on a tape.” She looks around and I can tell this is not her normal job.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  “Right, anyway. My father wants to meet you in his office. I like you and he listens to what I say.”

  “Um… okay,” I stammer. “When?”

  “Eager, that’s good. Eager talent means you’re willing to work your ass off to make a name for yourself. That’s perfect really.”

  I nod eagerly. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say or do right now.

  “Do you want to know about Moreno Entertainment?” she asks.

  “Oh… um… yes. Can you tell me?”

  “For someone who wants to succeed you should know the players. Moreno Entertainment is one of the best agencies out there. We handle everything you can think of and have our own in-house distribution. If you want a traditional record deal with Capitol Records or with us, it’s done. We don’t dick around with our clients; each one is a top priority. Our talent managers keep their client list to a minimum to afford each of the best service. We have some of the most sought after talent signed with us and we’re interested in you.”

  Hearing her say that they’re interested in me sends my mind reeling. This is what I’ve been waiting for and I was about to give up. My nerves are on edge, I feel like I’m going to burst. My hands shake and as I fight to control them I try to come up with the appropriate response. Somehow “where do I sign” doesn’t seem like the right one even though that’s what I’m screaming on the inside.

  I bite down on the side of my cheek, hard and likely drawing blood, but it brings me back to the now. “I’m definitely interested,” I say as calmly as possible.

  “I figured. Here’s my card. I’ll see you tomorrow at nine a.m.” I take the card from her hand and examine it. Samantha Moreno, Talent Manager. I look up as she starts to walk way.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Moreno. Are you only interested in me or my band?”

  She stops suddenly and by her stance, I know she means business. Her long legs are barely a shoulder width apart, one foot is jutted out and her hands on her hips. “I wasn’t aware you had a band?”

  I nod quickly. “A drummer,” I say, hoping that Harrison will come with me. If not, I’ll just look like a fool when I show up tomorrow.

  “Bring whoever you want, Mr. Page, just show up tomorrow. I don’t have time to mess around.”

  “Yes ma’am,” I mutter as she stalks away, disappearing in the blink of an eye. I look back at the business card I’m holding and finally allow myself to smile. I pump my arm in the air a few times and yell as loudly as I can. The busy street traffic blocks out my bellow so I don’t have to worry about anyone coming to see if I’m okay.

  I rush back into the club and pray that Harrison isn’t on stage. Someone’s playing, but it sounds like an acoustic set so my chances are good that he’ll still be in the green room. When I walk in, I find him in the same place I left him, except this time his face looks like someone just kicked his dog.

  “What are you doing tomorrow morning at nine?”

  He looks up, startled. He doesn’t show any emotion when he answers. “Nothing,” he huffs.

  “Great because we have a meeting with Moreno Entertainment, they want to sign us.”

  Harrison shakes his head. “They want to sign you.”

  I step forward and hand him the card. “Not this time, Harrison. You’re coming with me.”

  Moreno Entertainment isn’t anything like I thought it would be. Honestly, I was expecting some corporate America building like you see on television, where you walk in and have to stand awkwardly and wait for the receptionist to stop yapping on the phone so she can tell you where you need to go. Instead, we walk into this old warehouse that has character and charm. The ceiling is exposed with its heating ducts and beams adding to the ambiance. It’s very industrial and not stuffy at all. I thought I’d feel intimidated but I don’t. I feel very at ease sitting here waiting for Ms. Moreno to greet us.

  Magazines litter the table in front of us and along the wall there’s award after award, evidence that Moreno Entertainment’s talent is top notch. This is what I’ve wanted. I may not have earned it the way I thought I would, but I’m here and I’m ready.

  My leg bounces from nerves and my hand pulls at my tie. Harrison sits across from me and for the first time he’s not in a hat. His dark hair is slicked back and if my grandma had seen him, she’d be telling him to get a haircut. He’s dressed in a suit as well; neither of us are taking any risks that may indicate that we’re not serious about being here.

  “Are you scared?” I ask Harrison. He shrugs and shuffles a few of the magazines around on the table.

  “If you are never scared, embarrassed or hurt, it means you never take chances.”

  “Who said that?” I ask.

  Harrison chuckles. “I read it in a fortune cookie. It sounded good so I memorized it. I never thought I’d have a chance to use it though.”

  The sound of heels clackity-clacking on the floor comes from behind us. I stiffen from nerves. My palms sweat and my heart races. I’ve never been this on edge before. Everything that I’ve worked for is either going to be made or destroyed today. She could change her mind. She could decide that we’re not what she’s looking for or tell me that Harrison’s not needed. Thing is, if she says that, I’m out. I want to do this with him.

  We both stand when she comes into view. I pull at my suit jacket, straightening it out. I assume Harrison does the same. I’m too scared to look away from Ms. Moreno to check and see if he’s as on edge as I am.

  “Liam, happy you could make it.”

  As if I’d pass this up.

  “I’m Sam,” she tells Harrison as they shake hands.

  “Harrison James.”

  “Follow me.” She turns and walks away and we follow. It’s then that I realize I’d follow this woman anywhere because I have no doubt she’s the key to getting what I want. She leads us into a large office and sits in a chair similar to Sterling’s.

  “We’ll cut right to the chase,” she says as she pushes a stack of papers toward us. “We want to represent you and cut your first record. I have no doubt that you want a bigger label, but that’s not always best. You’ll be a little fish in a big pond and here you’ll have my full focus and access to the best of everything.”

  We leaf through the papers. There are words that seem foreign, like royalties, percentages and rights. Each time I read a new sentence my head spins a little bit more.

  “I think we should have a lawyer look at this,” Harrison says and I agree. All of this seems to be too much.

  “Understandable and expected,” she says, leaning forward. “Forgive me for being forward here. You’re young, Liam. I’m guessing about twenty.”

  I stiffen and adjust in my seat. I can feel Harrison’s gaze upon me and I’m afraid to look at him. I didn’t lie to him about my age. I just never corrected anyone when they assumed I was older. There’s a difference.

  “Nineteen,” I correct, clearing my throat.

  “And naïve. You should hire counsel, either together or separately. Take them the contract and have them call me with any questions. It’s standard, straight across the board. Same you’ll find with any other agent.”

  I nod, holding the papers in my hand.

  “Take a couple of days, read it over, talk to your lawyer. When you’re ready to sign, I’ll be here.”

  I read through the papers one more time questioning whether I really need a lawyer. A hundred thoughts race through my mind. What if he tells me to ask for more or seek out another agency? I don’t want that. I want to perform. I want to be somebody. I wanted this before I knew I did and now it’s in my hands. I can find a lawyer and he could tell me one of two things: sign it or walk aw
ay. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to walk away.

  “Can you give us a minute, Ms. Moreno? I’d like to talk to Harrison in private.”

  “Yes, of course.” She leaves her office, shutting the door behind her.

  “What are you thinking?” Harrison blurts out his question before I have a chance to even formulate a thought.

  “I’m the first to admit I don’t know jack shit about contracts other than what I’ve learned from my grandma. I’ve seen a few of hers and I know they’re not the same. But do you really want to take a few days to find a lawyer or do you want to sign?”

  “You’re only nineteen?”

  I nod, feeling a bit ashamed for not coming clean. “I dropped out of college to move here. I was on a scholarship to play football at the University of Texas and I walked away from everything to start over.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “This is what I want,” I continue. “This is why I’m here. If you’re not feeling it, you can walk away with no questions asked, no hurt feelings. I want to sign. I don’t want some overpriced lawyer trying to dick around the contract to make it more lucrative for them.”

  Harrison runs his hand through his hair, undoing the work he’s put into it to keep it from falling into his eyes. “When we arrived I asked if you were scared and you said yes. I said if you were never scared you’d never take a chance. I think we should be scared and take a chance here. The contract is for three years which, when you think about it, isn’t a long time. We’re going to make a record and they’re guaranteeing airplay. Those are two things that we don’t have now. It doesn’t say I have to quit Metro and you live with your grandma so it’s not like we’re hurting for money right now.”

  Every point Harrison makes is valid. “Do you think we should sign?”

  “Yeah, I do. We have nothing to lose. I have one concern though?”

  “What’s that,” I ask.

  “She’s young. She just graduated from college.” He points to her diploma on the wall. “Do you think she can do for us what we need her to?”

 

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