After Gigi had kicked things off with Prince’s “I would Die 4 U,” she passed the microphone to Macy.
She was trying really hard to be in the moment, but she couldn’t get Cassian’s expression out of her mind. When she’d asked Grant to do the duet with her, she hadn’t been thinking about the lyrics. She’d written that song at the beginning of the week, before they’d talked things through, when seeing him again had revitalized all the anger, and she’d needed to make sense of it all.
Every word was true, and she loved the song, but it had gutted him.
Yes, because he got it. Like, down to his bones, he understood what she’d gone through. That’s a good thing.
Gigi looked over as Macy belted out a Pat Benatar song. It was hilarious. The closed-off introvert had become a funny, sarcastic woman who jumped right into the fun. Nice to see.
Gigi wished she could get into it, but tonight was her last night. Tomorrow she’d go home to LA, and she wouldn’t see Cassian other than when they happened to cross paths in Calamity or at her parent’s house.
And she wasn’t ready to leave him.
Her phone vibrated, and she pulled it out of her pocket to see her manager’s name on the screen.
Michelle: Heard from Dale today. She’s thrilled with the press you’re getting.
Gigi: Glad to hear it.
Though, she wasn’t doing it for Dale.
Gigi: My lovely bandmates still behaving?
Michelle: LOL. Dani was trying to lay low in Mexico but got caught by the paps drunk off her ass in a club, and Tanya had a blow-out fight with her boyfriend in public. But no one’s heard from Jess in rehab, so that’s a good sign.
Fear sucker-punched her. How could they take risks like that when so much was at stake?
Gigi: What does this mean for the band? Has Dale said anything?
She really wanted to finish this album, leave Clean Beatz on good terms. She didn’t want a ruined reputation.
Michelle: Her usual rant, but I’m taking care of it.
Nope. Gigi didn’t work like that. She needed all the information.
Gigi: Tell me what she said.
Michelle: That you girls are a commodity, easily replaced. If you don’t perform per the contract’s explicit guidelines, she can easily put together another band. You want me to go on?
Gigi: There’s more?
Michelle: It’s Dale. Of course there’s more. Nothing I haven’t handled a hundred times in my career.
But Gigi already knew.
Gigi: She’s going to sue us for breach of contract.
Michelle: Correct.
Gigi: Will she win?
Michelle: Unlikely. Keep in mind it’s less to do with actually recouping her losses and more to do with sending a message. She thinks it’ll make the next set of girls fall in line. It really comes down to how much money she wants to bleed over this. In my experience, most people wave the contract around and stomp their feet, but their attorneys keep them from following through with litigation that could go on for years.
The cost of a court battle could wipe her out financially—and keep her in the press.
Gigi: How bad’s my reputation going to be if we don’t put out this third album?
Michelle: Let’s talk about it when it happens
She loved her manager, but Gigi didn’t want anyone patting her on the head and treating her like a kid.
Gigi: Just tell me. How bad?
Michelle: It’s more than an album. It’s a tour, merchandise, and marketing contracts. It’s a big deal. But there’s nothing you can do about it.
She’d been noodling an idea. It seemed pretty farfetched, but it kind of excited her.
Gigi: There might be one thing…
Michelle: what’s cooking in that brain of yours?
Gigi: What if we pitched her a solo album? I’ve got a ton of songs.
Unfinished, but she’d love to work on her own material.
Gigi: I’m just thinking I could dissociate myself from the others if she signed me as a solo act.
Michelle: I can pitch it, but I think you know she’s going for the girl band brand.
Gigi: This might save the label’s reputation along with mine. I’d still be a Lollipop.
When she thought of it like that, it lost some of its luster. Ugh. Did she really have it in her to write a whole album of super cheerful pop songs?
It’s better than litigation and a damaged reputation.
Gigi: Will you pitch the idea? I want to separate myself from the others.
Michelle: Sure, I can ask. Safe travels tomorrow.
Cassian came up to her. “Everything okay?”
“My bandmates are screwing up. Pretty sure my label’s going to drop us, which means…well, the owner’s threatening a lawsuit.”
“I’ve got a great entertainment lawyer—”
“I’m sure you do.”
He gave her a smirk. “And if you’re worried about expenses, most of these kinds of cases are settled out of court.”
She leaned in to create a little more privacy. “I just pitched an idea to my agent.” Her anxiety was high not because Dale would reject it—but because she might actually go for it. “I was thinking I could make a demo of Lollipop-type songs and see if Clean Beatz would sign me as a solo act. It’d save my reputation and give me a way to transition into the next phase of my career.”
“You want to write those kinds of songs?”
“Ha. No, not at all. But I’ve got one more record on this contract anyway, so instead of touring with my band, why not do it by myself? I want to be taken seriously in the industry, and this would be the first step.”
“That song you played this afternoon…could you do that with Clean Beatz?”
“Not a chance.”
“It’s damn good. Maybe it’s not a bad thing to lose this contract. If you walk away, you’ll be able to write your own songs and work with a label that’s a better fit. Memories are short in the entertainment industry, because the bottom line is always a product that will make money.”
“I’m a Lollipop. No one will take me seriously until I reinvent myself.”
“Let me ask you this. Putting aside your contract and all the obstacles, if your phone rang right now with the best news imaginable, what would it be?”
She knew the answer to that one. “That Irwin Ledger wants to sign me to Amoeba records.”
“Have you ever sent him your material?”
“Oh, God, no. He doesn’t do pop music. He’s the best A&R rep in the industry. He only works with a couple bands at a time, and he turns them into superstars.”