Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
"A triad," he says. "Something modern."
"No." Cassie doesn't hesitate. She speaks with a clear, authoritative voice. "That would be a mistake."
"It would?" Bryce shifts toward her. Interest fills his voice, but I can't tell if it's a play or a genuine desire for her point of view.
"A major mistake," she continues. "Your fans see you as a romantic icon. They don't want to see you with two women. It's greedy."
Something in Bryce changes too. He's not just full of shit. He's actually listening. He nods go on.
"You could do a love triangle, maybe, but it would be hard to make a triangle with two women work. That's not what your fans want. They want to see you as someone who is available to them. They want to see you heartbroken from unrequited love." Cassie looks him dead in the eyes; no fear, no deference to authority. "They love you because they believe you could love them."
"They love me when I'm suffering?" he asks.
"Yes." She doesn't mince words. "That's who you are to them, a man who suffers for love. You can sell them another version of Bryce Bradey, but you'd have to start from scratch."
"And that guy doesn't struggle to choose between two women?" he asks.
"No," she says. "Bryce Bradey falls hard and fast. Too hard and too fast." She names three songs from his last album. All about his unrequited love.
"What if I need something different?" he asks.
"We can do different," she says. "But not a threesome. Even if you spin it as sex addiction, or a desperate attempt to numb your pain. Even if you try to go for that I fuck and I drink because I hurt inside thing… I can write it. You can sing it. But it will be hard for any PR person to sell it."
"And a triangle?" he asks.
"We can play with it," she says. "I'm open to ideas. But I don't think it's the best move."
"What is?" he asks.
"You're right. You do need to shift enough to stay fresh to your fans, to demonstrate growth as a person. So far, you've been sweet and romantic. So we can give you what you want, love that merits love songs. Or we can give you what your fans want, love that breaks your heart," Cassie says.
"Unrequited love?" he asks.
"An arc," she says. "You have love. You lose it. You struggle with the pain. Maybe we throw in a song about meaningless sex. But it needs to feel like it hurts you. It can't feel fun or joyful. It can't be one of those let's party songs." She names a few comparable songs, where guys try to spin their slutty ways as their only method of coping with pain. "We end with an epiphany. A realization you can't drown your pain. You have to live with it. You have to open yourself back up."
"To the right woman?" he asks.
"Yes, of course." Cassie looks him directly in the eyes. "You must know, better than anyone, how much your fans want to fall in love with you because of your beautiful, broken heart."
I don't know how she says it with a straight face to a guy who clearly enjoys fucking with people. There's something broken about the bastard, but there's nothing beautiful about it.
For a full minute, Bryce turns over Cassie's words. He stays in his role as contemplative artist as he turns to the other happy couple.
Fuck. I forgot they were here. That's how much I only see Cassie, especially when she talks about music. When she says shit that hits me in the core.
Is she speaking to me, about me, or am I that self-involved?
Maybe this is why I love music, why anyone does, because we find ourselves inside it, even when it's not meant for us, even when it's only meant for the person with the pen.
Especially then.
There's something universal about specificity. There's something about honest vulnerability. People like Cassie who are brave enough to share their hurt, their flaws, their ugly parts.
We all have them.
Most of us just can't admit it.
Look at me, pretending I don't give a fuck what we drink.
Bryce returns to business before I can finish my thought. "What do you think, Frinsel… or do we like Tindrick?" He laughs at the possible portmanteaus. "Do you agree with Ms. Steel's assessment?"
Even though Tinsel is the lyricist on the team, Frederick speaks first. "It depends what you want to do with this album." He shoots Cassie a look that says you aren't always right, all the time.
Which is ridiculous. She is always right about music, and she's definitely in the right now. Whatever she did, she didn't fuck someone behind his back.
Fuck, I hate this guy. I know I make her life miserable sometimes, but that's different. I do it because she's difficult. Because I like how difficult she is.