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TRACK 6

9:07 AM

Carter:

FreeV1.mp4

"There's my superstar!" Jeff stood from his desk with a beaming smile as I walked into his office.

I slipped my cellphone into my back pocket, "So I'm guessing you liked the songs I sent you?"

"Like them? I loved them. All three of them."

"Three? No, I sent you two."

Jeff sat back down as I approached his desk, "You sent me three." I watched as he tapped on his computer keyboard, pulling up the email I had sent last night. "Look," he turned the screen around, "You sent three. Two you sang alone, and one with a girl. I'm assuming this is the same person you said you are writing with. Now, is this also the same girl you were pictured with?"

"Yeah, I-"

"Sit." Jeff pointed to the chair I stood beside. "Listen, there is something we need to discuss. I love the song. I wouldn't lie to you. You know that, yes?"

I nodded, sinking into the chair.

"Good." He waited until I was settled to continue, "I want you to be happy. However, there are some issues we need to discuss. You can have a duet on the album if you would like, but not with her."

"That's fine."

Jeff looked surprised. "Really? I thought you would be putting up a bigger fight."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I mean, she doesn't even want her name credited."

"She doesn't?" He questioned. "Interesting." He leaned forward, "So, what did she want in return for helping you? Money?"

I was beginning to grow slightly suspicious of Jeff's attitude towards our current conversation. I quickly brushed it off. Jeff was only doing his job. He was protecting me.

"Not money," I cleared my throat, "Our deal was if she helped me write a song, I find her a venue to play at."

"You mean, find The LA Devils a venue to play at."

"Yeah, it-" I paused for a second, "Wait, how did you know that?"

Jeff opened the bottom drawer from his desk and pulled out a binder. As it was set down in front of me, I realized the number of pages that filled it. Before I could question what it was, Jeff opened it up to the first page, "Tyler-Jane Robertson," he read out loud, "Goes by TJ Roberts. Twenty years of age, born in Los Angeles, California, and singer of semi-popular Los Angeles based band called The LA Devils."

"What did you do? Stalk her?"

"I wouldn't be a good manager if I didn't do my research," Jeff said with a nonchalant tone, "They have a good following so far for an unsigned group... appear to be popular online..." I watched as he flipped through the pages, "Oh, but this is where it gets interesting."

"Stop," I quickly interjected, "Don't keep going."

Jeff peered his eyes up from the folder, "You sure? I mean, even I was surprised by some of the stuff in here."

I shook my head, running my fingers through my hair. My eyes were glued to the folder as Jeff closed it, placing it back inside its drawer. It was a weird internal struggle my head was facing. Flip through a few pages and learn more about TJ than she would ever tell me. Or respect her privacy and never know a thing about her.