'Til You're Mine

Five

"Don't need to tell you but your arrow's made of stars

And the shot that you've made punched it straight into my heart

It's a little ignorant but everybody's saying that forever is the place

Where you and I were made"

- Alexandra Savior

"If you're going to stay in Los Angeles you should probably get a car."

There's a brief moment where I consider snapping back at Jeremy, or ignoring him all together. He agreed to drive me to Culver City in the car he rented for his stay, but he's been annoyed that he could be late for his lunch meeting since we pulled away from my house. I should have just splurged and taken a cab.

"Probably," is the only thing I say in response, because I'm too nervous-sick about my own upcoming meeting to fight with him.

There's a long stretch of silence between us, where the quiet sounds of Benny Goodman filter from the radio, before Jeremy says, "What's this meeting about anyway?"

I told him about being put in touch with Brian Frank weeks ago– about the possibility of finally having new management after being dropped from Columbia and frittering away trying to write something the last couple of months... or is it years at this point?

"New management," is all I say in response. My stomach is beginning to cramp in anxiety because I know we're close.

"They gonna have you work with some other overrated rock star for your next album?"

Jeremy might be trying to joke with me, because he knows a little bit about how annoyed I can get when people associate me with Alex only, but I don't smile or respond. He knows nothing about my relationship with Alex outside of our work together, least of all what happened in my living room last week. And maybe I should feel slightly guilty for that, but I don't; I feel conflicted, confused, overwhelmed, heavy and weighed down with emotion and feelings– but guilty is not one of them.

I haven't heard from Alex since he left my house that night. Maybe he's giving me the space I asked for, or maybe he's gotten bored and moved on. Maybe that moment we shared last week was just a moment of vulnerability for him– a bit of post break up desperation. And maybe he's too embarrassed to reach out now. I know he's not back on tour yet because I googled the Arctic Monkeys. Either way, I'm trying not to think about it because this meeting is more important. My career, and my life, separate from him are more important than anything right now.

"Good luck," Jeremy says when he pulls up in front of the offices of BFrank management, and moves in to kiss me, but he just gets my cheek as I'm turning away.

I shut the car door, flustered, and disappear into the front lobby of the building.

As I make my way up to the BFrank offices, I'm a maelstrom of negativity. I'm annoyed and frustrated because of that car ride with Jeremy, I'm trying to not think of Alex even peripherally, and I'm wary about this upcoming meeting. I can't count the ways in which I've become disenchanted with the music industry since signing on with Columbia six years ago– the ways in which I've become a jaded and cynical bitch where record labels and managers are concerned– and I'm trying not to let that pessimism come into the office with me for this meeting. Because, as embittered as the last couple of years have made me, I still want the art of making music to be my career, and this is my best chance of getting out of the current of failure I've been stuck in since being dropped by the label.