Chapter 48: Chapter 47: Front Men Crush Hard Candy

Hey! So maybe you guys recall that several times in our narrative, I've alluded to a big "blow-up"  between Bodie and Arabella and Mac and Adam on the tour that drove Bodie to Thailand? Well, I've been saving the tale to tell when it's required, and now it's time to find out what happened! Leed recounts the events for us in this surprising chapter that turns in ways you may not expect....

Leed

If Riley is unsettled by Slade's presence, you'd never know it. He walks in like fucking James Bond, gives Moran a curt nod and shakes Slade's hand with, "Riley Eddison, pleasure to meet you."

Slade gives him a broad smile that strikes me as disingenuous, but it could just be the unnaturally white teeth. I mean, I bleach, of course—who in this business doesn't?—but there comes a point that the teeth become so unnaturally white, the smile just looks fake. Maybe that's case with Slade. Anyway, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt for fake smile, as he turns his attention to me.

"Leed Lawson," he says with satisfaction, and his handshake is somewhat more assuring than his smile. "My apologies we haven't met. You're a very important part of our talent roster here at Colossus. I'm a huge fan, myself."

I give him a nod. "Thanks, that's...great to hear. I'll pass it along to the guys."

"And gal," he says. "We can't forget about that sister of yours."

I give him the chin tip, in acknowledgment of my sis. "Yeah, Mac likes to be just one of the guys, to all of us. Well, except Adam, of course."

He crosses his arms over his chest, nodding and smiling more. "How's the new family?"

I give Riley a quizzical look. This really isn't how I thought this meeting was going to go. I thought we were being called on the carpet for Bodie testing positive for heroin. He gives me the tiniest nod, and I take that to mean I should just keep playing along.

"Uhhhh...they're doing great. Lennon-that's their daughter—she's healthy and thriving and Mac is bouncing right back—feisty as ever. Adam's...rock solid." I give a first pump to accentuate. Actually Adam's women have him totally wrapped around their fingers, but rock solid sounds like a better way to describe him than whipped.

Slade gives another one of those white-washed smiles. "That's just...terrific. But I know Adam's not the only Soundcrush guy solidly in the dad department. How's your kid doing, man?"

"Oh, he's super chill and super fun," I say, a little embarrassed to feel my rock star face slipping into a goofy grin.

"That's awesome," Slade laughs lightly—and for the first time my needle flips to the distinctly heebie-jeebie end of the dial. Yeah, this guy definitely does not give a shit about us Soundcrushers being in the family way. But, he's not the first fakester I've met in LA. He's just playing the game. I can play along.

I nod and give back the same kind of forced laugh. "So they tell me. You...uh...you have a family? Kids?"

He keeps right on laughing. "Nope, not that lucky, it seems."

Just then Marcy pushes through the door, looking for once, a little harried. She's clutching three phones, a bag and an Ipad, and she dumps them all unceremoniously on the table and plants her palms down, breathing heavily. "Sorry...I'm...late..." she gasps. I've never heard her short of breath before—she was a professional athlete and she's still in great shape.

"It's fine, we haven't started. How's Artie?" Moran says.

"He's fine. It wasn't nearly as bad as it seemed at the scene. Matt's in worse shape than he is."

The names Artie and Matt linked together in conversation in the Colossus offices can only mean one thing. Marcy is talking about Artie Lesesne and Matt del Marco of Skid Marks. Surprisingly my heart begins to pound. "What happened?"

Marcy exchanges a cautionary look with Moran. Slade waves a dismissive hand. "It's fine, Marcy. We're all family here. If there's a real concern over Matt's health, Leed should get Trace on the phone."

Marcy shakes his head. "Matt will be alright. It was just...the scare."

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Matt's having his worst day in a while—his worst nightmare coming true," Moran says grimly.

Marcy picks up the story. "Matt took the whole band, wives, some of the kids to Hawaii. Artie was attacked by a shark." She laughs again. "Just a little one," she holds her hands about three feet apart. "In knee deep water. He punched the damn thing in the face and startled it into letting go. Matt freaked, though. Marianne thought Matt was having a goddamn heart attack, but it turned out...just an anxiety attack that sent his blood pressure through the roof."

"Jesus," I run a hand over the back of my neck. "But you're sure...they're both okay?"

"Fine. Artie was stitched up in the ER and released with a soft boot. Matt's being monitored overnight but just because they gave him some medication to lower his pressure. Marianne says he's embarrassed and ill-tempered as hell, but the doctors say he's fine."

"Well, maybe I should call Matt and offer to buy his Hawaii estate," Slade says, leaning against the table, looking off into the distance, probably calculating an offer.

Moran cuts him a sharp look. "That's exactly what he'll do—sell the damn place so none of his family can get near that beach on his watch. You already know him well."

Slade looks at me, smile still intact, as he gestures at us to sit at the conference table. "Most people are easy to predict, when you understand what motivates them. Don't you think, Leed?"

"Some people, I guess."

Slade's smile fades as he sits. He stares at me for a long time, and suddenly the mood in the room shifts. "Well, perhaps you can tell me what motivates Bodie Jamison. Because I understand that his contractual obligations...don't."

"Bodie is committed to fulfilling his obligations to Soundcrush and Colossus," Riley says quickly. "He's wandered down a wrong path, but he's back on track now."

Slade's words are no longer friendly. He sounds like a lawyer with this cool rebuttal. "He's currently still using injectable opiates; he bought a residence just blocks from his old Atlanta neighborhood—the one where he was a former drug dealer, and he's living with a convicted felon who has a child with another convicted felon—a virtual drug kingpin, in and out of prison."

"That's...quite good intel, you have there," Riley sighs.

"And you've kept all this from us," he gestures to Moran. "So I don't want to hear from you right now, Eddison. It's your job to manage Soundcrush in the interests of their contracts, and frankly I'm somewhat concerned by your lack of transparency. So I want to hear from my talent, because it's his band and his friend."

It's probably a bad time to say Soundcrush isn't my band, but Trace's. I rake an irritated hand through my hair. Man up, Lawson. It's show time.

"I'll admit, Bodie probably looks like a liability to you," I agree. "But I saw him last week and I can assure you, he's steady. His doctors say methadone treatment is the safest and most successful way to kick his habit. And his sobriety companion—she's good for him. She was on the same bad path as Bodie at one point and she turned her life completely around. She's...an inspiration to him. And the kids that's hers? That's what will motivate Bodie. He's more loyal than any person I've ever met, and he already has a connection with that kid. The kid's mom is a great person, the kid's dad is definitely sketch...and what's more, the dad is the same guy that got Bodie into trouble back in the day. Bodie wants to keep the kid from making the same kind of mistakes he did, as a teen. He'll want to be a good example to Darius."

"Mmmmm...well, you sound quite sure that Bodie's making a good place for himself in Atlanta."

"I'm positive." I'm not, but I hope to fuck I sound positive.

"But that perhaps only speaks to a deeper concern I have. It seems that Bodie has been making a separate life for himself, since the tour broke up. Why is that, Leed? If he's no longer a critical component to Soundcrush..."

"He is. Look, there was some bad blood for awhile. Some...misunderstandings between Bodie and Mac and Adam. Shit went down that was hard to swallow. They needed some space. But Soundcrush is a family and Bodie is a part of that family. Everyone is reconciled."

Slade rubs his lips, calculating. Then he shakes his head. "I'm sorry Leed...that just sounds like evasion. Your manager here has been giving Moran the run-around on Bodie's status and whereabouts for more than five months. You say Soundcrush is a family, but you all are just one small unit of our larger family here at Colossus. Family shares. Help me understand what drove Bodie from the arms of his family."

I look at Riley, but for once he's not responsive to me. He's staring at Moran, who looks decidedly more tense than Slade's calm direction of the meeting can allow for. Like Moran knows something we don't. Riley shifts his attention to Slade. Seeing Riley watch them, I feel like there are power plays happening that I don't really understand. And I'll be damned if I'm going to fuck this up for us.

"Can Riley and I have the room?" I ask suddenly. It's a bold move, asking my boss and his boss to leave their own offices, but at least it draws Riley's attention to me, which is what I need. Come on, Riley. Give me some fucking direction here.

He blinks at me. "It's not necessary, Leed. Like the man says, we are all family. Tell them which one of Colossus' children actually needs the discipline, here." He raises an eyebrow to me, and now I know how to respond.

"Arabella Burns," I say immediately. "She's responsible for the bad blood between Bodie and Adam and Mac."

Slade exchanges a look with Moran. "Now we are getting somewhere. But we need to know what happened."

I lean back in the chair, bouncing my knee. I really rather forget that awful scene two nights before our last tour date. Discomfort makes me ramble.

"When Mac came back on tour after her stint recording features last summer, it seemed like a good plan for her and Arabella to swap out performances. It would allow Mac the rest she needed in her high-risk pregnancy, and it would give Arabella performance experience. A couple of things became clear right away. Arabella is a poor live performer. She's okay vocalist for a single song, but she doesn't have the pipes to go hard all night. I mean, she's got a good quality to her voice that would make her great in the studio, and could do okay as a popstar with a backing track supporting her at appearances, I guess. But it was obvious even to Arabella that she's not a rocker. The second thing that became obvious was that she was extremely jealous to be shown up by Mac's vocal power and stage presence.

"Soon, sketch shit started happening that made Mac's life on tour harder. We never had trouble with the synthesizers before, but they kept losing their programming. Arabella blamed it on the crew, but it meant Mac had to spend extra time at rehearsals balancing them. Twice, opened bottles of liquor were mysteriously left in Mac's wardrobe case, ruining her clothes in transit.

"Mac knew Arabella was messing with her, but she was not making a big deal because Adam was trying hard to mentor Arabella and she didn't want to put a strain on that. When our Band Bible went missing, that was next level. That's our case with all the songs we are writing for the next album and Mac is super anal about keeping it organized and she puts it on the bus personally. Mac confronted Bells about taking it, and Arabella told Mac that she must have lost it, thanks to her baby brain. She made a couple more passive aggressive comments about Mac being too pregnant to keep up with the rigors of tour, and being too 'thick' to give a good 'visual' performance."

Slade smiles bitterly. "I bet that didn't go over. I understand your sister has a bit of a fiery personality."

"Yeah, we were all pissed. I had to hold Mac back from punching Arabella. Trace made it plain to her that Mac was worth way more to the label than she was, and he would call Moran and have her cut loose if she fucked with Mac anymore. Adam saw it a little differently. He was furious with her, but he stayed calm because he knew he had an obligation to produce her record. He went to Bodie told him he better teach Arabella some manners. Arabella and Bodie were sleeping together, and he had more influence over her than anyone. And Bodie did spend a few days talking to Arabella. Eventually she apologized to Mac and the Band Bible turned up at the next show and we thought Bells had been put in her place."

"Then, after the next to last performance, Mac and Adam had a little...lover's quarrel. Mac has just found out about her gestational diabetes and Adam wanted her to fly back to Nashville and skip the last show. She was scheduled to perform at the last show of course, and it was important to her to finish it with us, you know. We all saw it her way, except Adam. They had words at the afterparty—nothing serious— and Adam got a little drunk. Actually, he got unusually drunk—he hadn't had a drop since Labor Day, two months before, and needless to say, Mac got pretty pissed at how plastered he was. She slept in my suite. At three am, there was a ruckus in our hallway that woke us all up.

"It was Adam in his boxers, dragging a naked Arabella down the hall toward the suite she was supposed to be sharing with Bodie, screaming and kicking as he tried to keep a blanket around her. She had gone into Adam's suite, stripped, got in the bed with him and well...he woke up with her lips around his dick. Obviously he thought it was his wife, coming to make up from the fight they had, but I'm sure it didn't take long for him to realize, and that's when the shit hit the fan. He drug Arabella out of his bed and into the hall."

I hear Moran mutter, "Jesus Christ," but Slade is still watching me with cool eyes.

"So we're all standing in the hall as Adam yells at Arabella and tells the story, and she sobs and puts on a great show, swearing that Adam seduced her and was trying to walk it back, but not one of us believed her. Mac laughed in her face and told not only was she a lying cunt, but she was a stupid bitch because she had hadn't seen the obvious flaw in her plan to make more trouble... Adam is a dog that don't hunt.Stone cold sober, drunk off his ass, high as hell—probably even fucking dead—Adam loves my sister. Not even Bodie believed her—I could see the hurt in his eyes. Not that she would sleep around on him, but that she would try to hurt his friends like that.

"We all were done with her. Riley booked her a separate room for the night and told her she needed to decide where she wanted her flight in the morning because she wasn't staying on tour with us for the last stop. Adam told her hell, Colossus and all the promoters lawsuits could rain down on Soundcrush but he would never produce her album, and Trace backed him. Mac said Arabella wasn't even worth cussing because rage wasn't good for her baby and she dragged Adam back into the spare room into my suite before he really lost it on the girl. Bodie was the harshest with her. He told her she was nothing but a piece of ass to him, and that she was going to end up going the way of Amy Winehouse, and nobody was going miss her because she had a black soul. He slammed his door in her face. He opened the door once, to throw her shit out at her. We all left her in the hall, banging on his door and begging him to take her back. "

"Actually, it was the two of us that found her a few hours later," I gesture between Riley and me. "I just...had a bad feeling, you know? Riley got the manager to open her room. She was unconscious in a pool of her own vomit and her breathing was very very shallow. It just so happened we had a medical doctor with us at that stop—a friend from Nashville who was at a medical conference and stayed over for the show. He saved her from an overdose that morning.

"Bodie felt terrible guilt. He felt like he drove her to it. Moreover, he felt like he was responsible for her worsening drug habit. She was the one getting the drugs, but she's nearly a decade younger than Bodie—he felt like he should have been more responsible. He and Adam had words. In a way, Adam blamed him, too. So he took Arabella back. He didn't play our last date; he stayed with her at the hospital when we moved on, and Strut's drummer subbed for him. The plan was for them to check themselves into rehab, but...it never happened. She convinced him to take her to Thailand, and their relationship somehow solidified but their drug habit spiraled. After that, Adam...he was very disappointed in Bodie. I know he left Bodie a few harsh voicemails, but Bodie never returned his calls. Until he came to Nashville, without Arabella, for Lennon's birth. Now, he's trying to get clean but Bells is not. I think they are on the rocks but not officially over."

After I finish my story, Slade and Moran exchange a long look. Without a word passing between them, Slade punches in an extension on conference table phone. I don't know who answers—probably an A&R guy in the pop division. Slade's conversation is brief. "Arabella Burns is a liability we are no longer interested in developing. She's exhibited a failure to perform as expected that warrants investigation into the cause. Execute the drug test clause in her personal conduct contract and release her."

"What if she tests clean?" the person on the other end asks.

"I highly doubt she will, but make sure she doesn't," Slade says coolly. He hangs up and dials another number. "Put out the word, Arabella Burns is blacklisted permanently. Call her uncle in Nashville and tell him not fight us on this, or he may find his future options limited as well."

As I watch Slade's long, knobby finger punch the disconnect, I have the feeling that my finger was on that button, and I just blew up a nineteen year old girl's life.

Arabella is by no means my favorite person. She's young and stupid and mean and manipulative but she's probably a product of her environment. I'm damn glad she's not Adam's responsibility anymore, but industry blacklisted? How is Bodie gonna take that?

"Marcy," he says casually. "I'm holding your feet to the fire on this. She's your client."

"Not anymore," Marcy mumbles.

Slade nods. "Excellent. Make sure all the major outlets know—if they ever expect exclusive press materials from Collosus artists ever again, no one publishes pictures of Arabella Burns. She disappears on the public scale."

"Of course," she's exceptionally quiet. I think she feels like me—shocked at the swift executioner's axe bearing down on Arabella's head.

Slade smiles at me, "Riley. Leed. I wish you had brought this to us sooner. Soundcrush is our most valuable long-term asset. You're our next Skid Marcs. There is nothing we won't do to keep your family unit strong."

The words sound foreign in my throat, but I manage to get them out. "I appreciate that, Slade."

He inclines his head. "Give Bodie our best. Tell him we are all behind his climb to sobriety. As long as his doctors report progress in his methadone regimen, and he's a working member of Soundcrush."

"Thank you. I'll tell him you said that."

It seems like we are being dismissed. I rise but Slade arrests my movement. "One more thing..." he gestures at Marcy and she hands him a file. As he opens it, I see a glossy eight by ten of Ashlynn.

"I've noticed radio silence on your publicist's part about this girl you've been seen with...Ashlynn Ballard? Which is fine, of course, you are entitled to conduct your personal life how you see fit, as long as you are adhering to your professional conduct agreement. We can't tell you who to date, obviously... but just between us...so we understand where your head...is your relationship serious?" For the first time I notice Slade's eyes. They are nearly black, completely unreadable.

"I've known her for a while. She's Kat Ballard's sister," I shrug. Marcy and Dawes kept Ashlynn so underwraps, she was never on Moran's radar as Trace's wife, and even if she was, she was going by an alias—Ashley Lynn Foster. I hope that's still the case, that Moran knows nothing about her relationship with Trace. "We've only been dating a few months."

He smiles. "Ah. That's a nice story. The pillars of Soundcrush dating two beautiful sisters." He looks to Marcy. "You should promote it more."

"Ashlynn likes her privacy," Marcy says quietly.

"She'll be a little more visible as awards season opens," Riley counters. "She's attending the Grammy's with Leed."

Slade nods noncommittally. "So...this picture? Will we be seeing a larger baby bump at the Grammy's?"

"No." I don't why, but I have no desire to give him any more information about Ashlynn than necessary.

He fishes another photo. It's one of Tamara from her modeling days. "And...your son's mother...Tamara Jamison?" He's reading her name from the headshot. "Where's she in your life?"

"Well, her name is Tamara Sullivan, now. She married Ben Sullivan, one of primary security employees, about three months ago, in a very private ceremony, just before our son was born. The press doesn't even realize she's married."

"Mmmm...you use Sentinel for your security needs?"

"That's right."

"Good firm. Just curious...did you attend the wedding?" he asks curiously.

"I gave her away."

"I see." He taps on the photo of Ashlynn. "Leed...it's clear to me now that Soundcrush has been through a tumultuous year, and I don't want anything else causing more strife in your outfit." His eyes flit up from the photo. "So talk to me about Ashlynn Ballard's drug problem. It's public record that she was in treatment last year."

My throat feels tight. "She's sober for ten months now. Her drug dependency was driven by constant pain from a brain trauma she received five years ago. She's found a solution to the pain and kicked her habit."

He nods, pressing his lips together. "And how, after all this time, did she resolve her pain?"

"Holistic healing. Yoga. Meditation. Clean Eating. Acupuncture."

"Huh. I have a little nagging back pain, I can never get rid of, maybe I should try that," he braces his back. "Where did she come up with that idea, do you think?"

"I may have been somewhat of an influence to try holistic healing. But she's done the work, and I'm just glad she's healthy now."

He gives me the bright white smile. "Yes, that is excellent news. We don't want another Arabella causing problems in our favorite Colossus band, do we?"

"No."

His smile fades as he rises, shaking my hand. "I'll hold you to that, Leed."

He rises, shakes hands with Riley, "Good work you're doing with them, Eddison. I would rather you were on our payroll, not theirs, but still, you're a valuable man to have behind our asset."

I don't remember the small talk we make with Moran, or even remember getting down the elevator, or saying good-bye to Marley. Riley is shoving me in a limo, and pouring two glasses of tequila. I take mine with a shaking hand. "Jesus Riley. Did I just..."

"Destroy Arabella's career? Yes," he takes a deep slug. "But did you see how tense Moran was? See his clenched fists? He already knew what was going down in there. Soundcrush has cost the label hundreds of millions and Adam failed to turn Arabella into a revenue stream to offset that. Slade was not looking for a new solution. He was looking for a scapegoat for all the money Soundcrush has cost them. Leed..." he finishes off his tequila in two heavy swallows. "It was Arabella or Bodie or Adam. We made the right call. She would have self-destructed anyway."

I stare at my tequila, swirling it in the glass. "Are you saying that to make me feel better?"

Riley pours himself another. "Yes," he says miserably. "But it doesn't mean that it's not most likely true." After his next double, he says,

"Fuck, somebody has to tell Bodie."

"No," Riley says quickly. "No. He will blame himself and it will impact his recovery. It will take months to release her from her contract, because legal will cross their T's and dot their I's. It's best if he thinks the label is pressuring her in the same way they are pressuring him. Let it ride, until he's had more time in recovery. And when the time comes, I'll tell him."

I shake my head. "Naw, that's not my call or yours to make. We need a majority vote for something like that." I swallow more tequila.

"Shall I get them on the line, then?"

I nod. Soon, Trace and Madam are with us in the limo.

The vote is unanimous. We all agree with Riley's plan. Mac is pretty stoic about what happened to Arabella, but Adam takes the news hard. Despite his anger at Arabella, he's always felt the sorriest for her, I think. He thinks of her as a little girl lost.

"You did right, brother," Trace tells me. "Fuck, hate you had to field that."

"I wasn't alone," I say, giving Riley a grim smile. He gives me back the same grim look.

"Oh shit, hate to change the subject, but you guys won't believe the call I just got from Street in Hawaii..." Trace blurts.

Artie and Matt's attacks—shark and anxiety—are a welcome turn to the conversation as we leave the Colossus building and the distasteful business behind.

Hmmmm...seems like Slade is ruthless when it comes to protecting his assets, huh? Thoughts on this chapter?