Also, who does this Troy dude think he is? Reed has built an empire from scratch. He started with nothing and put everything on the line, because he believed in himself and his vision so much. And then, through sheer force of will and talent and drive, Reed came out the other side a king. That’s why Reed is an arrogant prick! Because he’s a legit god among men. But what’s Troy’s excuse? What has he built from scratch? Sure, Troy’s got a soulful voice and he plays guitar well. And he’s definitely got that “I know you want to fuck me” smolder down pat. But big whoop. Guys like him are a dime a dozen in this town.
For all Troy’s bragging, you’d think he’d cured cancer with his songs. But Reed has literally been trying to cure cancer by donating huge amounts of money to cancer charities. And yet, Reed never brags the way this guy keeps doing. I only learned about most of Reed’s biggest accomplishments and awards and milestones from snooping through his memorabilia and reading up on him online.
Frankly, the more I sit here listening to Troy, the happier I am that Reed eviscerated him. Reed plucked Troy, and his band, out of obscurity and helped them write and record a top-quality album. Reed moved them to LA and opened his personal home to this little twat for months. And this was a small house, too, so it’s not like Troy and his bandmates had their own wing of the house. I’m sure they practically lived on top of each other. Not to mention, Reed invested a ton of time and money in Troy’s band. Probably, his whole heart, too, assuming those interactions I witnessed between Reed and 2Real in the studio were indicative of Reed’s usual contributions to his artists.
And Troy thanked Reed for all that by betraying him? By fucking an “unnamed woman” Reed had been involved with? I can’t imagine, after living with Reed for months, Troy didn’t know the “unnamed woman” had been involved with Reed. There’s no way Troy didn’t know he was stabbing Reed in the back. But, obviously, he didn’t care.
I suddenly realize Troy is staring at me, like he’s expecting me to say something.
“Wow, you’re so amazing,” I say, figuring that’s a pretty safe thing to reply, no matter what he just finished saying. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. But you’re so amazing, I can’t believe you don’t have a deal with a record label. If you ask me, you should be headlining a world tour.”
“I had a record deal once, actually. A big one.”
Here we go. “That’s so cool! What happened?”
“Oh, you know. The music business is crazy.”
I wait, but that’s all he says. “Actually, no, I don’t know anything about the music industry.”
Troy shrugs. “The label holds all the power. No matter how talented you might be, the label can decide to shelve your debut album. And that’s that. You’re done.”
“Really? I didn’t know that. That’s terrible.”
“Yep. They have full control.”
“So, they shelved your album?”
He nods.
“But why would they do that for someone as talented as you? Don’t they want to make money, every bit as much as you do?”
“Not if the owner of the label decides he doesn’t like you for personal reasons and wants to fuck with you out of spite. When that happens, when the owner of the label is a fucking dick, then you’re done, no matter how good the album is. Because the contract says the label owns and controls the album, and has the absolute right not to release it, ever, if that’s what they decide to do.”
“Holy hell. That sucks. What label was it?”
“River Records.”
I look at him blankly.
“It’s a good one. You’ve heard of their bands, I promise you.”
“Let’s see.” I pull out my phone and google it. “Oh, wow! Red Card Riot, 2Real, Laila Fitzgerald, Danger Doctor Jones, 22 Goats! Holy crap, Troy!”
“Yep. They didn’t have all those bands when I signed. The guy who owns the label was planning to build his entire label on my band, Red Card Riot, 2Real, and Danger Doctor Jones.”
I point to a photo of Reed on my phone, my heart aching at how excruciatingly handsome he is in the shot. “Is this the guy who screwed you over?”
“Yup. That’s him. Reed Rivers. Fucking dick.”
Despite everything, hearing Reed’s name sends butterflies racing into my belly. “Yeah, that guy looks like he’d be a fucking dick.”
Troy chuckles. “He’s more than a dick, actually. He’s a fucking psychopath.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “A psychopath? In what way?”
Troy pauses. “I’m actually not allowed to talk about this in any detail. I sued that guy’s ass after he shelved my album, and we reached a confidential settlement. If I say too much, and it gets back to him, I’ll owe him a shit-ton of money.”
“Whoa. You sued him? You’re such a baller.”
Troy looks enamored with himself. “Yep. I brought that bastard to his knees.”
“Oh my gosh. I’m dying to hear this story. Something tells me it’s super-hot.” I bite my lower lip suggestively. “Hey, aren’t lawsuits public record?”
“Yeah...?”
“So, you’re allowed to tell me stuff that’s already in the public record. You can’t get in trouble for doing that, if it’s right there for anyone to find it.”
Troy considers that logic for a beat. “Good point.”
He empties his beer bottle, and I order him another one. We talk some more. I flirt and laugh and nudge him a bit. And, soon, hallelujah, the floodgates open for me. Blah, blah, blah, Troy says, telling me everything I already know from reading his lawsuit, except for a few noticeable edits. First off, he refers to the “unnamed woman” as “the record guy’s ex-girlfriend.” Which, again, makes me think it has to be Isabel. And, second off, seeing as how he’s trying to pick me up, Troy gallantly says he “hooked up with” Reed’s ex, rather than explicitly saying they had sex. “And the next thing I knew,” Troy says, “the bitch went straight to Reed and told him we’d hooked up, and that’s when all hell broke loose. The guy went fucking psycho on me!”
My mind is racing. Reed’s ex went straight to Reed after fucking Troy, huh? Now, why would she do that? Could it be she’d only screwed Troy to make Reed jealous? “How did the record label guy go psycho? What’d he do?”
“He dropped my band from his label, shelved our album and music video, and totally blackballed me in the industry, so I couldn’t get signed anywhere else, or hired for any tours or festivals.”
I gasp like I’m shocked. “What a dick!”
“Yep.”
So, is Troy going to mention Reed beating his ass, too? He made a huge thing about that in his lawsuit, after all. Or does he not want me imagining that smoking hot record label guy kicking his emo ass? “Is that everything the label guy did to you? Anything else?”
“I think he did more than enough. Don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah. I just mean, how did he blackball you? What did he say?”
Troy takes a drink of his beer. “Oh, you know. He just talked a bunch of shit about me to all his powerful friends in the music industry.”