From the Top - Chapter 21

Monday, things started to get back to normal. I was still sad about Willie’s passing, but I had things to do. The competition was coming up soon, and I needed to make sure I got all of my ducks in a row, specifically at school, before I left. Plus, there was Kat, who I’d barely gotten to see when she’d been home over the weekend, and Hanna, who seemed determined to destroy her life. There was a lot going on.

My teachers had worked with me, probably because of Dr. Wallace’s involvement, but it meant I had a mountain of homework to take care of. I’d cancelled practice with Chef over the last few weeks and parked myself at the kitchen table the moment I got home to start making a dent in it.

I’d just gotten to work when the first distraction occurred. My phone, which I kind of wanted to just turn off but couldn’t since there were too many things I might be needed to deal with. Band stuff, show stuff, whatever.

Glancing over at the screen, I saw it was one of those calls I couldn’t ignore. I hadn’t spoken to Mr. Eaves since we learned that MAC was behind all of our cancelled gigs and the cancelled distribution meeting. The only thing we had going on now that he might be involved with was still trying to find a way to get MAC to back off, and basically, we’d put that on the back burner.

“Hey, Mr. Eaves, what’s up?” I said, answering his call.

“Hi Charlie, first, I wanted to tell you I’m very sorry for your loss. I only met Mr. Johnson the one time, but he seemed like a good man.”

“Yeah, he was,” I said, clearing my throat as the feelings from the weekend bubbled back up. “I appreciate it. What can I do for you?”

“I’m calling about ‘The Stage’,” Mr. Eaves said. “I know this is all happening fast, but I need to talk to you about the legal side of things.”

“There’s a legal side of things?” I asked, not quite sure what he was getting at.

He’d already looked over the performance contract the production company sent over after I got through the audition, and as far as I knew, it was all taken care of. From how he’d described it, everything was completely boilerplate and there weren’t any problems.

“Yes. Now that you’re going to be appearing on a major network TV competition, I believe it would be prudent to get you proper representation. My expertise is mainly in criminal law, as you know. But with this next step, you’ll need someone well-versed in contracts, endorsements, licensing, and so on. While this contract was fairly simple, there is a chance you will win and there will be a record contract at the end. The only reason I was able to handle your MAC contract was because, with where your contract was at the time, there was little choice but to agree to whatever provisions they offered. This show will bring you national attention, which means you suddenly have options, which is when contracts become complex.”

“Oh,” I said, not having considered any of that.

“Don’t worry, I have some excellent colleagues who specialize in entertainment law,” Mr. Eaves continued reassuringly. “I’d like to arrange introductions and have you meet with a few of them to find someone you click with. These folks know the business inside and out.”

“I appreciate the offer, Mr. Eaves, but I think I’d rather stick with you as my lawyer,” I said. “No offense to your colleagues, but I’m not comfortable with anyone else representing me.”

“Charlie, I understand your hesitancy here,” he said, sounding a little frustrated with me. “We’ve been through a lot together in the past year. But entertainment law has very specialized components to it that are outside my areas of expertise. You need someone who knows how to handle it.”

“But I trust you. I don’t know these other lawyers, and I don’t exactly have the best track record with trusting other adults, as you well know.”

“Trust is important, Charlie, but so is specialized knowledge. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t tell you this. It’s not just about trust; it’s about expertise. Part of the requirements for legal representation is being able to effectively negotiate on the client’s behalf. In an area such as entertainment law, at least at the level you’re potentially going to be at, I would not be able to do that, which would be a breach of my obligations as an officer of the court.”

“Come on. I’ve seen enough TV to know lawyers represent clients outside of their field all the time. Are you worried that I’m going to sue you for malpractice?”

“It’s not just about that, Charlie. I have to answer to the state bar, which can take action against me if I break my ethical responsibilities.”

“What about your responsibilities to me,” I said, getting frustrated. “You know as well as anyone the number of people who’ve supposed to have been on my side and then walked away from me … or purposefully screwed me over. I’m not about to let you do that to me, too. With all due respect, I’m not changing my mind on this.”

“Charlie, you’re putting me in a very difficult position,” he said. “I’m trying to do my duty here, and you’re making it very difficult.”

I could hear him getting really frustrated. For a moment, I was going to meet that energy with frustration of my own, but I second-guessed myself. Mr. Eaves had been in my corner every step of the way, and I’d done well every time I’d followed his advice. I didn’t want another lawyer, but I also didn’t want to burn my bridges with him either. I needed a middle ground.

“How about this,” I proposed. “You find someone you really trust, someone ethical who won’t take advantage of me, and someone who will be significantly better at the job than you. Not just better, significantly better. You vet them thoroughly. And then you both represent me. You’ll handle everything non-entertainment, and this new person will handle the entertainment side. But … you’re still the point man. You’ll be my primary lawyer and responsible for keeping them on track and making sure I don’t get manipulated or screwed over. I know we’re talking retainers and discussions about how that works with your other clients, since that will be a big-time commitment, and I’m fine with that. The only way I’m going to need an entertainment lawyer who specializes in high-level performance contracts, rights negotiations, or whatever else entertainment lawyers do is if I win this thing and start making big moves. If that happens, I’ll be able to afford it. If not, then we can just stick with things being the way they are. Either way, I want you there to watch my back.”

“You’re right; the kind of thing you’re proposing would be a big change. I’m not sure I’m ready to become someone’s personal in-house counsel, which is essentially what you’re describing.”

“Which is a conversation we can have when the time comes, but it’s the conditions I want if I’m going to let another lawyer handle my affairs. I have first-hand experience letting people who don’t have my best interest manage my affairs. I’m not about to let that happen to me again. It’s why I agreed to keep Warren as my manager, and it’s why I want you to stay as my lawyer.”

“I’ll consider it,” he said after a long moment of silence.

“Good. Then, for now, things stay the way they are, and we’ll both think on it.”

I was feeling particularly smug at how I turned that around on him. Maybe he was right and I did need to find the right guy, but I only wanted to do it on my terms.

“Fine. You win for now. We’ll table this for the time being.”

“Good. Thanks for the call; it’s always good to talk to you,” I said, with a grin on my face I think he could hear over the phone. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to work with a teenager,” he muttered as he hung up.

He didn’t mean it. I was positive I was his favorite client.

***

Wednesday, I was at my locker after the last period, shoving books into my backpack and getting ready to head home, when I caught a glimpse of Sydney slowly walking toward me. She was looking right at me, so I knew she wasn’t going to just pass by me on her way wherever she went after school these days.

Part of me just wanted to pretend I didn’t see her, ignore everything else, shut my locker, and walk away. Besides the brutal dumping in the spring, her little visit at the beginning of the year didn’t put me in a charitable mindset with her. She hadn’t gone full Rhonda, but she’d still done her damnedest to burn every bridge on the way out.

Unfortunately, I took one last glance and saw the expression on her face. She was nervous. Hesitant. I silently cursed myself. All of my friends liked to remind me of how much of a softy I was. I seemed to be willing to give people who wronged me not just second chances, but fifth and sixth chances, giving them enough chances to burn me until they felt satisfied. My friends weren’t wrong. I was terrible at cutting ties, and I really did want to believe the best in people. I’d like to argue that was a good thing, but considering people like Rhonda, who’d used them as extra chances to kick me in the nuts, I was probably just being naive.

Still, seeing her face, I couldn’t just turn my back on her. Instead, I turned to face her, leaning on my locker. At least I had the sense to wait; let her make the first move. See if she was going to accuse me of cheating on her again.

“Hey Charlie,” she said in a mousey voice I knew meant she was nervous.

When she was angry, or happy, or excited, she was as loud and boisterous as anyone else I knew. She was also doing that thing where she was looking at her fingers when she talked, twisting the edge of her shirt sleeve into little knots.

“Hey,” I said, going for the most neutral tone I could muster.

Not angry, but not friendly either.

“Umm, just wanted to say I’m really sorry to hear about Willie. I know how much he meant to you.”

Damn it. She really meant it. This wasn’t an opening gambit or anything. I knew her well enough to hear the genuine sympathy in her voice. Why couldn’t they all be like Rhonda, evil to a degree that was easy to hate?

“Thanks.”

“Are you … doing okay? With everything?”

“Yeah. I mean, it sucks and I miss him, but I spent all summer with him and this didn’t come as a shock. I think having the time to prepare for it kept it from really destroying me. You know?”

“Yeah,” she said, bobbing her head. “I get that. It’s not like … I mean, it’s better that way, for the people around him I mean. Not that it’s better for him, because he … uhh … shit. I’m messing this up.”

“You’re okay,” I said, giving her a smile. “I know what you mean.”

She really was trying. This was the Sydney that I’d fallen for. The one that I’d fought so hard to keep from losing at the end of last year. If she could have just stayed this person, we would still be together.

Sydney looked down, twisting her shirt sleeve even more. “I also wanted to say I’m really sorry for how I acted at your house back at the beginning of the year.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. ‘No problem’ or ‘it’s okay’ would have both been a lie. Everything she said then sucked, and I wasn’t here to make her feel better about it.

“I overreacted. Like, really overreacted. I was just so shocked when I heard you were with Kat all of a sudden. We’d been together and you said there wasn’t anything between you, then it was like a switch flipped and you were with someone new.”

“Do you really want to get into this again?” I asked, annoyance creeping into my voice. “Do I need to remind you who ended things with who?”

“No,” she said, taking an almost unconscious step back. “No. I didn’t mean to … I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to fight. You’re right. I don’t get a say in who you date, and I think you and Kat are a good fit, actually. She was there for you when … others weren’t. So I get it. I … damn it; I am really bad at this. I’m just really sorry.”

“I appreciate you saying that,” I said slowly, after I was sure she was done. “I’m not going to lie, it sucked being accused of something like that and it sucked when you dumped me. I know you had your reasons for that, and I get it, but I’m not sure I can ever forgive you.”

“I know, and … my pastor says that forgiveness isn’t something you ask for. He says the only real apology is one where you don’t expect to get something in return. That the apology isn’t for me to feel better; it’s an act of contrition. Offered without expectation of absolution or forgiveness. That’s what I’m trying to do. I just want you to know I’m sorry. You don’t have to forgive me or anything. I just wanted you to know.”

“Okay,” I said. “I appreciate that.”

I very pointedly didn’t say that I forgave her. I think I saw her face drop a little bit when I didn’t, but she didn’t complain or ask if I forgave her.

“Well, that was all I was going to say,” she said, and took another step back, turning to walk away.

She made it one step before she hesitated, half-turned back, shook her head, took a step, hesitated again, with another little half-turn. Whatever fight she was having with herself, it was visible and very clear. I waited, leaning on the locker. If she wanted to say anything else, it was up to her to say it. I wasn’t going to come to her rescue.

Sydney finally stopped her little dance and turned back to face me, gnawing at her lower lip, “I know I don’t deserve it, but I was hoping, maybe someday, we could try being friends again?”

I didn’t answer right away. Even with her whole act of contrition thing and her condolences about Willie, both of which I’m sure she was genuine about, I kind of felt this coming. She’d tried to do something like this when she’d come to my house the first time, and it had blown up badly. Even so, I wasn’t prepared for it. I honestly didn’t know if I wanted to stay friends with her.

I’d tried that with Rhonda and failed big time. Admittedly, she wasn’t Rhonda, but I’d still had her turn on me the second she didn’t get her way. My life hadn’t gotten any easier since we dated, and she’d made it clear she didn’t want to be involved with something like that. So did her dad.

“What would your father say about that?” I asked.

“I don’t care,” she said, almost defiantly before backing down on that too. “No. I do care, but I’m not going to let him make this decision. It’s not like we’re going to be dating again. You made that very clear, and I respect that. But I think he needs to get used to letting me choose my own friends, without his input.”

She was using big words, but I wasn’t sure I believed her. She still wanted her father’s approval; that much I was sure about. I decided the best way to handle it was to be honest.

“I really don’t know, Sydney,” I said. “My life is still nuts, and the last thing I need in it is more drama.”

“Ohh,” she said, not arguing back. “I get that. I’m sorry. It was stupid of me to ask. I should go.”

She turned to walk away, shoulders slumped, looking to all the world like a puppy I’d just kicked.

Damn it. I needed to grow a spine.

I reached out and grabbed her arm before she could make her escape. “Sydney, wait a minute.”

She turned back, looking so hopeful it was almost heartbreaking.

“Look, I’m not going to pretend it’s easy for me to just be friends again after everything that happened between us. But I also don’t like the idea of us never speaking again.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I don’t hate you. I’m not crazy about how things ended, and I’m also still unhappy with what happened at the beginning of the year, and if anything else like that happens, it will be the last time. But … just because you broke my heart doesn’t mean I stopped feeling things for you. All the reasons I liked you before are still true, so I’m willing to give it a shot. But I want to be crystal clear, just as friends. Nothing else. I’m with Kat now, and that’s not going to change. And, not that I’m saying you’re going to do this, but being mean to her counts exactly the same as coming at me again. It will be a deal breaker.”

“Absolutely,” she said, smiling for the first time since she walked up. “I don’t hate Kat. I mean, we’re not exactly friends and I haven’t talked to her since the end of the year, but I wouldn’t take it out on her. I know everything that happened was my decision.”

“Good. Then … uhh, by the power of whatever, I dub us friends again,” I said, tapping my finger on each of her shoulders like I was knighting her.

For the first time since we broke up, I heard her laugh again. Her real laugh; the one she didn’t use except for people close to her. It was a really nice sound.

“You’re an idiot,” she said.

“Yep. Look, I hate to friendship anoint and run, but I have a crap ton of homework if I’m going to get everything ready before I have to leave for California, and I have band practice, so I can’t stick around. But we’ll find time to hang out. Okay?”

“Ohh, I heard you tried out for ‘The Stage’ and made it,” she said. “That’s so amazing.”

My lunch friends had grilled me Monday morning, after I’d gotten back, and it didn’t take long for word to get around. So far, it was kind of a nebulous thing, since it hadn’t actually been on TV yet, and everyone already knew I played and had a record contract, so it didn’t really move me up in any kind of social standing or anything, but people had started talking. I figured once it came out and people saw me on TV, it would change things and be real to everyone.

“Thanks,” I said, glancing back at the door to the parking lot.

I really did have a lot of homework to do.

“Sorry,” she said again, although not as nervously this time. “I won’t keep you. We can talk about it later. Good luck with your homework.”

“Thanks,” I said, giving her a small wave and heading out to the parking lot.

I needed to call Kat and let her know what happened. She’d already added Sydney’s face to her dartboard, so I wanted to make sure she knew Sydney was no longer on the shoot-on-sight list, and she had to be apathetic to her at the very least, if not nice.

Plus, you’re supposed to tell your girlfriend when you become friends again with your ex-girlfriend; I was pretty sure of that.