Page 82 of Beautiful Noise

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Page 82 of Beautiful Noise

I frowned and he continued, “Your words and her voice. Together, it all comes together to create something fucking amazing and aside from your words and her choice, you have my production.” He winked and I grinned but rolled my eyes. “I’ll handle the label, you just agree to write some dope shit and Lei is going to take over the world just like lover boy.” There was amusement when he referenced Ezren as lover boy.

“I didn’t know producers were so invested in artists. You’re close to him and you’re taking on the same role with Lei.” I gazed his way with unspoken questions.

“Ess and Lei are both family. It wasn’t my job to be so invested in his career but I knew what he could become. His father got him in the door but neither of them knew a damn thing about this industry. Hell, I barely did but I had insight they didn’t. Ess was a kid back then. I refused to see him get burned by the ugliness of the world he was in. Same thing with Lei, she has something amazing.”

I nodded in understanding and he added, “So do you, which is why you can’t bail. You going to do this with us?”

I glanced at Leijah who was smiling wide chatting away with a fan. Ezren was next to her and just happened to catch my gaze at the same time. He winked right before scribbling his signature on something a fan handed over.

“Lei has my number, reach out when we get back to Atlanta and we can set up a meeting.”

Clay extended a hand and after we shook he explained that it was an official unofficial promise that I was signing on as Leijah’s songwriter. I felt overwhelmed but what I felt more than anything was purpose for the first time in my life. I felt as if I was the one in the driver’s seat. My success, or possible failure, would be all on me. As scary as the understanding of what this all meant was, I welcomed the fear with open arms.

Two days later I was sitting in the office of Leijah’s record label feeling as if I made a terrible mistake. Ezren offered to go but I refused. This had to be my deal. A small part of me didn’t want anyone to ever hold this over my head, so I needed everything to be on my terms. After I declined he assured me that I could trust Clay but demanded that I allow one of his attorneys to be there to review the paperwork prior to me signing.

Apparently he had multiple attorneys on his team. I accepted the offer and once I walked in to sit at the table with Leijah’s executives, I was grateful. Clay also asserted that he would not have allowed me to sign a damn thing without representation.

I was overwhelmed. The way they threw legal jargon around, placing demands and threatening my entire life if I did not comply with the legality of the terms presented, had my head spinning. I didn’t do a lot of talking. More than anything I listened, read what the attorney pointed out on the contract, and did a lot of glancing back and forth between Clay, the executives, and the attorney. Today was a lot, but I survived.

I also felt a sense of gratitude for how Clay and Leijah negotiated the terms with my percentages. They ensured I would make as much as possible from the songs I handed over, which was unheard of for a newbie. The executives were not thrilled but neither would bend unless their demands were met. Ezren’s attorney co-signed that we would walk if they refused. I smiled internally knowing Ezren had a hand in the negotiation demands as well.

All in all, the documents were signed and I was officially the songwriter for Leijah’s new project. The label couldn’t evenbring in another songwriter without my approval. Something else negotiated in a private conversation on my behalf. When we finished, I was proud, excited, andnauseous.

“This is really happening,” I rushed out on a ragged exhale.

“It sure is.” Leijah beamed, looping her arm through mine as we waited for the elevator. “I’m so happy about this. It feels right and you’ll be glued to my side for the next couple months while we produce this album. In the studio, then on tour while I share it with the world.”

“On tour?” My eyes went wide and she grinned, nodding.

“Yes, girl, on tour.”

“Songwriters don’t go on tour.” I frowned and she shrugged.

“Mine does. It was in the contract.” She tugged me into the elevator after the doors opened.

“What about Clay?”

She waved me off. “He’ll be a while. They’re going to complain about all the stuff they agreed to even though it’s a done deal because the contracts are signed.”

“So how long will a tour be?”

“I don’t know but wherever they ask me to go, I’m going and stop stressing, it won’t conflict with Ess. We’ll even have some of the same cities.”

“I wasn’t asking because of him.”

She grinned. “Maybe not but I wanted to throw that out there. Whatever it takes to keep my girl happy. I need youhappyso you can write dope shit for me, Ri.”

“I don’t have to tour with you to do that.”

“No you don’t but I want you there and you want to be there to make sure I do your songs justice. Now, where are we eating?”

“Eating?”

“Yes. We’re having a drink to celebrate but I can’t send you home drunk so I’m buying you lunch first. Pick your poison.”

“I…”

“Don’t you dare tell me no…” She walked to the SUV that we arrived in and waited for the driver to open the door. Once we were inside, I gently broke her heart.




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