𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓- ᴄ. ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ

10

*— NARRATIVE, MESSAGES

THE meeting ran late, though neither I, Skylar, nor Avery was surprised.  We had already ordered coffee to be served in the middle of the meeting, not too early that one of us had to go use the restroom but not too late that it wouldn't kick in till we were finished.

  I smothered another yawn, rubbing my face tiredly as the men in suits continued to draw on.  It was always the same, we had very similar weekly meetings with the label.  I had gotten the message the first time.  I needed new music, and quickly too.  Not only were the folks at Interscope impatient, but they were also convinced that the fans were.

  Impatient fans will drift away, uninterested after waiting for such a long time, and no fans meant to profit.  At least, that's what the record label believed.  Avery and I shared another annoyed look as the balding white man in his late 50s moved on to yet another slide, the slideshow seeming to be endless.

  We had already sat in the room for more than 2 hours, going over statistics, daily, weekly, and monthly listeners, and on and on and on.  It was simple, our relationship.  The label paid me and gave me the resources to create music, I make it and the money starts pouring in.  Everyone gets paid, and everyone is happy.

  So when there's no new music, there is no money, resulting in unhappy people.

  "You've already done the Vogue photoshoot," the man said, motioning for my attention to be drawn to the current slide.  Large letters that read "publicity" were printed at the top, with a list of possible options to gain publicity listed below.  "How long will it take for you to finish the album?"

  I blinked slowly, glancing at Skylar quickly, who gave a subtle shake of the head.  "I don't know," I admitted quietly.  "I mean, we're getting stuff done, for sure.  But it'll take some time to make the 20-track album you want.  It would be a lot faster if we just released the 10 tracks I already have -"

  "Frankie, we've already gone over this," he interrupted, shaking his head.  I silently cursed his name as I forced my face to stay emotionless.  "10 tracks aren't enough.  This is your debut album we're talking about.  Not an EP."

  "Albums can be 10 tracks," I argued back coolly.  "I'm just saying that it'll take a while to write and produce 10 more songs in the timeframe you're giving us."

  "We just want the album to be released before the deadline for Grammy submissions," another man commented.  "You have months."

  Well, it's kinda hard to write songs when I've thrown away my only source of inspiration, I wanted to snap back.  Instead, I stated, "You do realize that with the schedule you created for me, I barely have time to get into the studio each day.  I may have months but an hour a day isn't enough time to do anything.  So I'm sorry if I'm running a little behind, you assho-"

  "Frankie!" Skylar exclaimed, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me up and towards the door.  "Excuse us."

  As the door shut behind us, the woman let go of my arm, a deep frown on her face.  "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She asked harshly.  "You can't speak to your own label like that, you'll get fired."

  "I'm so fucking tired of this, Sky," I complained, resting my back against the wall as I glared at the floor.  "They want fucking 10 more tracks but don't give me enough time to do anything.  I haven't even finished the initial 10 I already had in mind because of the stupid publicity they insist I do!"

  "Get it together!  Why do you suddenly have trouble with this?  You were perfectly capable of handling this 3 months ago," my agent hissed.  "What is going on?"