[ boyxboy ]
Lennon Lewis doesn't feel quite alright. He is slowly but surely reaching for the stars with his rock band and is adored by everyone who meets him. He should be happy. But he's either too high or too low. The sweet relief is only tempora...
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William Hamilton-Smith stares into his tea. The sounds of the pub bleed into the hallway, into his ears, and he taps his foot to the rhythm of music from the radio. Music always gives him the urge to move, as though the sound tickles him. Maybe it does.
Mentally, he ticks off the seconds until Saturday night's competition. Tomorrow night, the bands would have to practice - complete with sound checks, lighting consultations, everything to ensure perfection. Then Saturday. There's the promise of fresh music for his label and his ears.
Hamilton Records boasted some of the hottest new bands in the country, with their unique sounds getting significant airtime on the radio, hitting the top of the Billboard charts, selling out arenas left and right, and headlining festivals. William has been in the company for a month now. After his uncle stepped down as CEO he took over the job. Responsibilities and pressure of being the boss of the company like this doesn't scare him, it is coming back to London after being away for almost four years. And last time he visited was a year ago.
He'd found the bands through competitions like the one this weekend, and from the demos he'd already heard, he anticipated a tough decision. Will the live sound hold up, or are the recordings products of studio magic? He drains his mug then motions to his planner.
"We have a busy day. Busy weekend."
He says to Micah, his assistant, who is sitting next to him at the bar with his laptop open, writing emails in William's name.
He likes coming down to this pub on his lunch break. It is just across the street from the big, tall building where the label offices are. On his first day at a new job, when he found this pub he thought it was the worst place he's ever been to. Too old, too dark, to clustered. But somehow he found himself going back in spite of all that. His office with its wall to wall windows feels like a fish bowl, he needs to get away from it at least for an hour, and he appreciated Micah's ability to follow him here, no questions asked, and that he treats him like a normal person. Not like a serious and emotionless owner of a record label that everyone else is seeing. No, these conversations in the pub with Micah provide some sense of normalcy, even though they mostly talk about work. Or actually just work.
"What do you think of the bands?" Micah says not looking up from his laptop. He is always dressed in bright colourful suits, a perfectly styled quiff slicked back and thick rimmed square reading glasses.
"Better than I expected. There are some amazing bands coming this weekend. I might have trouble choosing." William looks at his phone, a message from Nina pops up. "I have two that I am already considering. I've been praying for the sound to hold up live."
"I think it's time to go back to the office Mr Hamilton-Smith. Best not to be late. You have a meeting with Paul Andrews in 10 minutes. Then a conference call with Susana from LA at half past two. I made a reservation for dinner with your family and fiancée at 5pm. Although your fiancée insisted that you go to Le Gavroche in Mayfair not Amaranto at Four Seasons like you initially wanted. I... didn't know what to do, I just booked both, in case you... well I don't know if you wanted... "
