“You definitely need management, Will. There is no way you can navigate this industry on your own.”
“I already have deals on the table,” Will said, shaking his head. I was shocked; I had no idea Will had already been offered a deal. I listened to every detail, not wanting to miss a thing.
Frank continued, “I know every A&R person in this town. I know what they’re about. Artist development is practically unheard of today in this industry. What they’re offering you is a death sentence. They want one hit on one album and they want it fast. They’ll give you a tiny budget and a deadline and then when the album is finished they’ll promote the shit out of it, dress you up like a clown, make you cut your hair, and then fuck you in the ass if it doesn’t go platinum.”
I gasped. Will looked over at me and smiled, totally unaffected.
Frank was really on a roll, now. “Then if that’s not bad enough, they’ll make you go on tour in every godforsaken country until you can make enough money to pay them back for the second-rate studio work they paid for on an album that nobody cares about because they wouldn’t let you do it right in the first place.” Frank raised his eyebrows at me, then at Will, and waited for the response.
“What do you suggest then?” Will finally got serious.
“Let me manage you. You’ll keep doing what you’re doing, building the hype. I’ll book more solo shows so you can develop your songs in front of an audience. You’ll keep writing and building a good catalog. We’ll get into a studio and cut a quality demo and then we’ll shop you out and stand our ground. I know you’re the real deal. It’s rare anymore and I don’t want a label turning you into their monkey.”
It was the whole stick with me speech and it was convincing as hell. I was sold and somewhat shocked when Will said, “Give me a month.”
Frank smiled. “Okay, guy, but you’re not getting any younger.” Just like that, the conversation was over.
As we pulled up to our building, Will took Frank’s card and we both took turns shaking his hand and exchanging pleasantries. Once inside the apartment, Will plopped on the couch and patted the cushion next to him, encouraging me to sit. I was happy to. He pulled my legs up, removed my sandals, and started rubbing my foot. With all the craziness I had forgotten that I was still nursing an injured foot and although I was out of the cast, I was supposed to be taking it easy.
“How’s your foot?” he asked, his voice low and gentle.
“It’s fine,” I lied.
“You’ve had quite a day, haven’t you?”
“Me? I think you’ve had quite a day, buddy.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” He stared into space, then rested his head on the back of the couch and continued rubbing my foot.
A few moments of silence passed before I could no longer contain my curiosity. “Why didn’t you tell me you were offered record deals and why don’t you want Frank to be your manager?”
Will took a deep breath before answering. “Remember when I told you that I was still trying to figure things out?” I nodded. “Well, I’m still trying to figure things out,” he said, smirking.
“Figure what out? Everybody wants you and you’re sitting on your thumbs.”
He turned his head and looked at me, eyes narrowed. “No! Not everybody.” He got up and headed toward his room.
I followed. “You’re my friend, Will. You’re my best friend. I’ll always be here for you. I want you in my life, just not in that way,” I said, pleading.
When he reached his doorway, he turned toward me. “I know, Mia, you’ve made that abundantly clear.” Then he slammed the door and yelled “Goodnight!” through the closed door.
I pressed my forehead against his door and took a deep breath and then said in a low voice, “Will, you can have anybody you want. You’ll get a record deal and go on tour and everyone will be falling at your feet.” My eyes filled up. “Please, Will, I care about you. You’re my family; this is the way it has to be.”
He opened the door and drew me into his arms. “Okay, then,” he whispered and held me against his chest. “You must really be into that guy.”
What? I realized Will thought I was still with Robert. Why did everything have to be so complicated? If I told Will that Robert and I were over, it would hurt him even more that I didn’t want to be with him. I wasn’t entirely sure Will wanted to be with me anyway. Will was just a lover through and through and he prided himself on being true to any spontaneous physical desire he had, or at least that’s what I thought. I imagined that Will slept with all his friends with no commitment and I imagined it wouldn’t be long before he was partaking in the perks of being a swooned-over rock star. I had no desire to be his humdrum history on Before They Were Famous. Yet, I couldn’t deny that I loved being with him and it took every fiber of my being to refuse his touch in that way.