Two years have passed since Riley first burst into the music industry with the hidden identity of, The Masked Singer. With two albums under her belt and a third one on the way, Riley supposedly has her pathway marked out. No tours are planned, no in...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Freedom. It had been a bitter taste, a hard concept to chase, but I had made it to the end of the race and it was exhilarating.
"We love it," the man at the head of the table begins to say, "Some of your best work you've shown us." I smile, accepting the compliment. The other album I pitched is my best work, but they'd see that soon.
"We'll have someone work with Ava to start planning a tour to support the new album. The design and technical team are going to be really excited to work on producing a show for the tour," he says, "But you need to sign the contracts before this can be implemented."
I swallow my heart and feelings.
"There will be no supporting tour for the album," I announce.
"How do you expect to sell the album?" the man asks.
The people seated around the table seem baffled and lost from my statement. Small whispers explode and dance between each of them from my lack of commitment and desire to help sell the album.
The answer seemed simple, "It'll be fine by itself."
He seemed outraged, "You can't do this."
"As you've said yourself, my contract has expired and I wish to not sign another one at this point in time." I delicately place my hands in my lap and keep my appearance friendly, "I've enjoyed my experience here very much, and I'm very sad to go. But I would like to take a break from this crazy life style and just, regroup before I make my next moves," I truthfully explain.
I expect them to throw a fit, scream, shout, lay on the group and throw his body in a tangled mess. But a smooth poker face slides on his face and it sends chills down my spine. His eyes give away his furious emotions, but he can't act upon them, not if he wants me to stay in the future. This is the only place I've known, he probably thinks I'll come back.
"We understand," he finally says, "We respect your decision and wish you luck in your future endeavours. When you produce more material, we would be thrilled to have you on board with Del Ray Recordings."
"Thank you for your understanding and your kind offer. This has become a third home to me, and I do wish to part of happy terms. I just need to sort my head space before committing to more work."
One of the men seated next to the boss coughs and slides a piece of paper in front of him to read. He almost looks annoyed, but takes what's written on the page into consideration before speaking.
"Are you interested in doing promotional interviews or gigs?" he asks.
"Anything for the fans," I say, "as long as it fits in with my schedule."
"We'll be in contact."
Before the situation spirals, I stand up in my chair and smile pleasantly at everyone.
