Charttoppers - 21. Exposed

Samson was never a particularly patient person, but today he was even less so. The meeting with the Supernova executives seemed more pointless with every minute that passed. He could have been rehearsing for his tour, but instead, he was stuck in a room with businessmen who seemed to know nothing about modern trends in pop culture.

“You have to realize, they own the radio, and if their CEO decides that something can’t be played, that’s it. Remember what happened with Gabriela Perez? She was having hit after hit in Latin America, but they got almost no airplay here because they were all in Spanish. Argent Media flat out refused to play her music. It wasn’t until she recorded an English album that she got her first radio hit in the States,” Peter Wooley, one of the talent managers at Supernova, explained.

“So what do we do then? There must be something we can offer them? Money, some kind of a promo deal or something?” Hank suggested. “Labels pay to have their artists played on the radio all the time.”

“Unfortunately, payola won’t help us here. Melanie’s made it pretty clear there’s only one thing she wants,” Wooley turned, pointedly looking at Samson. The singer eyed him with suspicion, knowing that whatever that bitch wanted, it couldn’t be good. “An apology from you, in person.”

“Oh, she can fucking keep dreaming!” he was quick to reply, crossing his legs in a dramatic fashion. “I am NOT apologizing to her.”

“If anything, she should apologize to Samson,” Hank agreed.

“I figured that’s what you would say. And I agree,” the label manager replied. “We’re with you here one hundred percent.”

“Are you? Because I don’t see you doing much to help,” Samson asked. What was the purpose of all these managers and executives if they couldn’t pull some strings to fix situations like this?

“Ehh, we’re trying, but…” Kylie Corrigan, a young woman at the position of Head of PR jumped in, “we can’t do much without the CEO’s approval, and he’s pretty pissed at the moment – mostly at Melanie, but he’s not your biggest fan either right now. You should’ve spoken to him first before rejecting Melanie’s offer.”

“I know, but it was all so out of the blue,” Samson defended himself.

“Besides, we can’t change what happened, so there’s no point in blaming anyone now,” Hank added. “We need to figure out what to do. I really wanted to avoid this, but I think our best bet is to put some pressure on her through social media. Make a post explaining what happened, and people will be on our side. Not just Samson’s fans, but people in general. Especially other artists who’ve also faced discrimination.”

“Yeah, I think we should do that,” the singer nodded, readily agreeing with his manager’s suggestion. He had been yearning to publicly drag Melanie for a while now, he could almost taste the salt from the hag’s tears. “Besides, my fans have already pretty much figured out what’s going on. They’re like private investigators, they have chart data for all my songs for literally every single day. I’ve seen them post it all over the forums and Twitter.”

To his surprise, the label managers were all in favor of the idea as well, saying it would get people on Samson’s side, and if there’s anything the public loves to do, it’s rooting for the underdog, which he definitely was in this situation.

“Kylie, you can work with Samson and Hank on writing the message, but we’ll have to run it by the CEO first. He’ll be even angrier if he sees we did it without telling him,” Wooley said.

Having ordered another round of coffees, the trio got down to work, composing a message that would objectively explain what had happened, while also get people on Samson’s side and leave no doubt that Argent Media was practically blackmailing him.

“Are we not going to mention Melanie Roy?” the singer asked as he looked at the laptop where Kylie was typing the first draft.

“I think it’s better we just mention the company name. It’ll be clear who it’s about, everyone knows she’s the head, but still, mentioning her by name seems petty. It’d make it seem like you have a personal vendetta against her.”

“Well I freaking do!”

“I know, but we’re trying to make it bigger than that. We need to make it sound like we stand for every single musician who’s been mistreated. That way, people will be even more ready to support you,” the woman explained.

It was a tedious process, paying attention to every word and making sure that the message and the feeling they were trying to convey were on point. Finally, an hour later, the final version was complete and received approval from the label’s CEO.

“How do you feel about this?” Hank asked as he sat next to Samson, rereading the message once again.

“Well, I would’ve liked to have put in a few choice words here and there, but… It’s good. I like it. I wish Anna was here to read it. What do you think, are we doing the right thing?”

“Absolutely,” the manager nodded confidently. “We need to do this.”

There was a sense of anticipation in the air, and Samson could feel it taking over him. He glanced at the other managers, each of them with a supportive smile on their face. Easy for them, he thought. This won’t affect them at all. It was his career and reputation that were on the line, not theirs. Still, he couldn’t deny the surge of confidence that arose within him. He wouldn’t despair anymore. He would be strong, just as he had always been in the face of any difficulty placed before him.

“I just wish I could be there to see the look on that bitch’s face when she sees it,” he gave a smirk, willing himself to think positively. Always put out positive energy into the universe, and it will return to you.

“I’m sure we’ll get a reaction from her soon enough one way or another,” Hank replied.

“Well, guys, there’s no sense in waiting anymore. Let’s do it,” Wooley said as he sat back into his chair at the head of the conference table.

“Let’s do it,” Samson nodded, staring at the screen with determination. He took a deep breath to compose himself, and then finally clicked on the ‘share’ button, updating all of his social media profiles.

Round two had begun.

~~

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special guest here with us to help us open this amazing night!” Ted Berkeley, the host of this year’s ‘mUsiK Awards’, UK’s biggest music award show, announced as he stood on the grand stage of the Silver Theatre in Manchester. “I’m sure we’ll see him win many awards next year, but right now, he’s here to perform for us. Please welcome Tyler Edwards!”

The prestigious ‘mUsiK Awards’ took place every fall in Manchester, awarding singers and bands for their contributions to music in the UK. Having only debuted several months ago, Tyler was not yet eligible for any nominations, but was offered the honor of opening the night with a performance. Of course, his manager and label immediately jumped at the opportunity, booking him for the show.

As he stepped out onto the stage, Tyler felt confident, which was a rarity for him. For one, he was on home turf. Performing in the UK always felt easier than in the US or some other foreign country. Also, the venue was much smaller than the huge arenas and stadiums Florence had suggested for his tour. Finally, he had his family sitting in the front row, cheering him on. Even though he could barely make them out from the stage, just knowing they were there made things much easier to bear.

With his backup dancers doing their thing behind him, Tyler launched into song, performing his latest single Above The Noise - his third number one. The audience watched attentively, mouthing the words to the track. When the song ended, the entire theater erupted in applause as everyone stood up from their seats, clapping and shouting, filling the young singer with joy.

“Thank you so much, mUsiK Awards! Have a wonderful night!” Tyler smiled, looking at the sea of faces in front of him.

He had to admit, it felt good - at least in smaller environments. To have people cheer for you and to know your music gave them joy was a wonderful feeling. If only he could overcome his fear of large crowds - it was his biggest wish. Maybe one day, he thought. One day, he would get used to it.

“You knocked it out of the park, superstar! What did I tell ya? What do I always tell ya? You’re brilliant,” Florence praised him as they entered the limo at the end of the show. With his family having already gone back an hour ago, Tyler had to have his driver take him back. “You have to stop selling yourself short, you’re capable of much more than you think!”

The singer couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his manager’s words. As much as Florence sounded as if she was praising and supporting him, Tyler knew she was just trying to butter him up and get him to agree to do a massive arena tour. The woman couldn’t seem to understand that no amount of fake compliments would erase his stage fright.

“Yeah, I know, Florence. So you keep telling me.”

“Geez, sorry for trying to be supportive,” the woman responded in mock offense. “What do you want me to say - I’ve seen better, you’re nothing special, kid?”

“I just want you to stop pretending and be real for once. I’m not dumb, you know. Just because I did well tonight doesn’t mean I’m ready to go on a big stage,” Tyler explained, surprising himself with how open and assertive he was being. “I just wish you’d have given me time to deal with this instead of booking shows behind my back.”

“Time? Do you think the label will give you time?” Florence asked, irritated. “Do you know how fast people come and go in this business? Careers get snuffed out just like that. All it takes is one flop album, or a prettier, newer face to pop up. In showbiz, no one is irreplaceable, darling.”

“Well thanks a lot, that surely helped,” the singer replied sarcastically.

“You wanted me to be real with you - this is me being real. If you don’t bring enough money to the label, don’t be surprised when they replace you with someone who will.”

“And this is what it’s all about to all of you - money.”

“It’s called show business for a reason, superstar. You can love it or hate it, but that’s the way things are. When you’re forty and have nothing left to prove, then you can afford to ‘create art’ and do things your way. But right now, you don’t have that luxury. Think about it.”

After dropping the manager off at her apartment complex, the driver proceeded to take Tyler home. Sitting quietly in the back seat of the luxury sedan, the singer gazed pensively out the window, thinking about Florence’s words. Could he actually do it? Could he go on a big tour around the world? Florence seemed to think so, but she only thought about money and the record label. She always dismissed his feelings, whether it was about Stacy or anything else he dared to question her about. It’s like she never listened to him, or only heard what she wanted to hear.

“Hey, Ty, is everything alright, mate?” the driver’s rough voice startled him.

“Oh… Thanks, David, I’m fine,” the singer replied, faking a smile.

“You don’t look fine. If you want to vent, well, I got nothing better to do,” the man offered. “And we still have a good half an hour to go.”

Tyler looked at him, remembering the last time David tried to initiate a conversation. He wasn’t used to sharing his feelings with just anyone, but at that moment, he needed to get everything off his chest.

“It’s Florence… She just doesn’t get it,” he sighed, staring ahead. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s great at all the business stuff. Like, she’s a really good manager. But it’s like she doesn’t know me at all, and she doesn’t care. If I try to tell her about stuff that’s bothering me, she just pretends everything is great, like that will somehow solve everything.”

The middle-aged man let out a deep sigh, his brow furrowed.

“Look, Tyler, I have to tell you something. Do you mind if I pull over for a bit so we can talk?”

“Um, ok I guess?” Tyler replied, now eyeing his driver with curiosity. He hadn’t known David very well, but the man was always nice to him, and was an excellent driver to boot.

As he pulled the car over and stopped by the side of the road, the driver turned to Tyler. “I have to tell you something that’s been eating at me for a while now. And seeing you like this, I can’t keep it to myself anymore. And if I lose my job over it, then so be it.”

“What are you talking about? Why would you lose your job?”

“It’s Florence… She’s not who you think she is.”

“What do you mean?”

“You see… Back when we were in LA, at that award show, you thought your girlfriend arrived late because we were stuck in traffic. Well, the truth is, it was all because of Florence,” David explained, not daring to look Tyler in the eyes. “She said I had to pretend to get lost and drive all the way through the busiest part of the city so we wouldn’t get there on time. She didn’t want you to be seen with Stacy and I… I did as she said. She threatened to fire me, said I would never work again. And I have a family to support, I couldn’t afford to… I’m sorry, Tyler. I’m really sorry. Now you know.”

“Wh- what?” the singer stuttered, eyes wide in disbelief. “Is this true?”

“Yes. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I just-”

“How could she do this? She had no right to!” Tyler was stunned, rage boiling up inside him. “I trusted her and she… she’s playing with people’s lives! This is just a bloody game to her!”

“Tyler, I’m really-”

“Stacy… she broke up with me over this,” the boy whispered as he sunk back into the seat, feeling betrayed and hurt. He had lost his girlfriend, his driver had betrayed him, but they were all manipulated by Florence. Was there anyone he could trust?

“Just… take me home, please,” he spoke quietly, not looking David in the eyes. He didn’t want to talk to him, not after what he’d done. The only people he could count on were his family.

The first thing Tyler did the following morning was set up a meeting with his manager. Even after his parents’ words of encouragement and support the previous night, he barely had any sleep, having spent most of the night tossing and turning, thinking about what to say to the woman who betrayed his trust.

With his mom and dad as support, the singer arrived at a small pub where Florence was waiting for him. As soon as she saw her client walk in with his parents, she abruptly stood up, plastering a fake smile on her face.

“Tyler, hi. Marissa and Eric, how nice to see you again,” she greeted them in as pleasant a tone as she could muster. Tyler cringed, thinking how it was so unlike her. She was always so loud and coarse.

“Don’t you ‘nice to see you’ to me!” Marissa was quick to snap, getting in the other woman’s face. “How dare you play with my son like that?!”

“What is this all about?” Florence asked, confused, trying to keep her voice down.

“Cut the crap, Florence, I know everything,” Tyler said, trying to sound tough, though the look in his eyes betrayed vulnerability and anxiousness. He always hated conflict. “David told me what you did back in LA, at the Stardust Awards.”

The manager pursed her lips, staring at Tyler for a moment before speaking. “Oh, so that’s what this is about?”

“Yes, that’s what it’s about. How dare you play with Tyler and Stacy’s emotions like that?” Eric spoke in a commanding tone. “My son trusted you to look out for him, we all trusted you, and you stabbed him in the back.”

Florence opened her mouth, but then quickly closed it, as if changing her mind about what she was going to say. Tyler stared at her, trying to read any sign of emotion on her face, but failing. She was unmoving, as if suddenly turned to stone. It was only moments later that she blinked, focusing her gaze on the singer’s parents.

“Look, I know you’re all upset, but what I did was for Tyler’s own good. I realize I may have gone about it the wrong way, but I did what I had to for the sake of his career.”

“You had no right to do that! I did everything you asked me to, I told Stacy we’d have to pretend we were just friends and-”

“Do you think the press would’ve seen it that way? An attractive, young man and a woman arriving together at an event - of course everyone would assume you were a couple,” Florence defended herself. “You were named one of the most eligible male celebrities that night! When your fans listen to you sing love songs, they want to imagine that you’re singing to them, and they can’t do that if they know you’re taken.”

“So you decided to get Stacy out of the picture? I’m disgusted at you. The poor girl was crushed that she didn’t make it in time,” Marissa said, shooting Florence a disgusted look. “And you threatened David you’d fire him if he didn’t do as you ordered.”

“Oh please, I never would’ve fired him. I just had to make sure he would play along.”

“That’s horrible,” Tyler shook his head in disbelief. Not only did Florence not deny anything, she didn’t even show an ounce of remorse. The singer felt his father’s hand squeezing his, giving him the strength he needed to continue. “Florence, I… I don’t want you as my manager anymore. You’re fired.”

As if slapped across the face, Florence stared at the singer and his parents with a stunned look on her face.

“WHAT?!” she yelped, practically jumping out of her chair. “You’ve got to be joking with me!”

With sudden murmurs and stares of people all focused on her, the woman finally realized she was in a public place.

“Is there a problem?” a waiter that had served them returned to their table, looking questioningly at the four of them.

“No, everything’s fine,” Florence quickly cut him off and sat back down, her entire face now red. “You want to fire me over this? Tyler, this is a mistake you do not want to make, trust me.”

“Trust you after what you did? How can I ever trust you again? You never have my best interest in mind. You’re always going on about the label and what I need to do for them. But what about what I want and how I feel?”

“Because the label is the one that gave you your career! Tyler, you know nothing about show business. You would’ve achieved nothing without me holding your hand every step of the way!”

“That’s not true,” Mr. Edwards replied, staring her down. “Tyler succeeded because of his talent, not because of you. There are plenty of other managers and we’ll find him someone who won’t betray him.”

“Good luck with that,” Florence scoffed, picking up her purse and getting up from the table, looking humiliated. “If that is all, you’ll get my resignation first thing in the morning. And when your career goes down the drain in a few months, don’t bother knocking on my door.”

Slamming a few banknotes on the table for her drink, the woman turned around and stormed out, never looking back.

Mr. and Mrs. Edwards turned to their son with concern, trying to find the right words to say. However, all their worries rapidly started to dissipate once they saw him crack a smile for the first time that day.

“Are you alright, love?” Marissa asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, say something.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Tyler let out a soft chuckle, his green eyes sparkling with joy. “I feel like I can finally breathe again.”