Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 220
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Michelle gives a curt smile to Fitz. “I’ll be done in five.”
Fitz leaves, and Michelle’s smile falls off her face. “Asshole.” Her eyes meet mine in the mirror. “Not everyone thinks Tom is difficult.”
Not everyone.
But people definitely do.
I saw him stick his neck out at the pre-production meeting. I’ve heard him on phone calls. He can be argumentative. Demanding. He has a vision that he wants to see through, and he won’t let anyone puppeteer him. A lot of people try to treat him like a fucking doll. They want him to have zero opinions while they take the helm.
When Tom pushes back, they act like he’s just a spoiled rich kid. Just Connor Cobalt’s arrogant son. In every conversation I’ve been a part of, he’s fighting to be heard and taken seriously as an artist.
He’s gone to bat for my vision more times than I can count.
Hell, he got me a mixer credit on every song so far, and he’ll say I fought for it too. But I didn’t call the label daily until they relented. I sure as hell wasn’t the reason I received a drum-engineering credit when the label wanted to bring in an engineer during our recording sessions. I really did not want to collaborate with another drummer. Tom knew that.
He knew it so deeply that he spoke up for me multiple times, even at the risk of being seen as a fucking diva.
When the label dropped the packed tour schedule yesterday—sixty-seven cities over the course of the summer—the comments were absolutely brutal. Tom said his family chat exploded and urged him not to go online.
It only took a half-second scroll on social media for my blood to boil.
They don’t even have an album.
What a joke.
Tom Cobalt def bought his way to this.
A three-month tour. With what music? His dad must be financing it.
It’s all the things I thought about Tom before I knew him. It makes me sick to my stomach thinking I could’ve been one of those dicks. I was that dick. I was the person who thought of him as just a spoiled rich kid.
I wish the world could see what I see. His work ethic. His passion for the music. His unreal, irrefutable drive. It makes me want to release the whole album tomorrow to shut these fuckers up.
It’s the only thing we can do.
Tom brushed off the comments with a shrug like he’s received punches online his whole life. He told me, “The music will speak for itself. It’s why it needs to be perfect.”
He’s been using that word a lot lately. Perfect.
It freaks me the fuck out because I don’t know how he measures that scale.
As Michelle continues swiping metallic paint on me, I scroll through my phone and stop on a recent text thread.
MOM
A three-month tour? Will you have time for your orchestra gigs?
DAD
Your mom is only asking because, even if the album is a success, you won’t see royalties until next year. Did Jeremy send you the payment schedule?
I breathe deeply through my nose. Jere didn’t have to send the payment schedule to me. I know how it all works from being around my brother and Nothing Personal. We have to recoup the half-mil advance before we see royalties. Even if we’re a runaway success, that means we might earn out in July. Unfortunately, the label’s accounting period runs July through December, with a ninety-day lag, so any money we make then won’t be paid until April of next year.
That’s almost exactly a whole year from now.
But I knew that going into this.
My parents are only freaking out because of the time commitment the tour will put on me.
I already texted them back.
PHOENIX
Jeremy is working with our booking agent to secure guarantees and bonuses. We also have merch in production. I’ll have some cash flow during the tour. Don’t worry.
My mom’s response is what I predicted but not what I hoped.
MOM
You should still consider taking some gigs, if you can. It’s good to keep that door open. You don’t want to burn bridges.
It’s what they’ve always told Birdie during his time with Nothing Personal. Don’t burn bridges. Always have the back-up plan ready to go.
My temples throb even harder, and I down the rest of my energy drink. I remember the call I got from Birdie when the tour was announced. “Knew it,” he told me. “You’re going to wish you already started training. Remember me during your first vom session.”
“Yeah, that won’t be happening,” I replied. “I’ve already started hitting the gym every morning.” With Tom. He’s been singing and sprinting on the treadmill, but I avoided mentioning him so Birdie didn’t give me more shit. “Anyway, Riot might shorten the schedule like they did for Nothing Personal unless we fund the tour ourselves. They haven’t said how presales are doing, so we’re thinking they might not be great.”