Travis Starnes
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From the Top - Chapter 11
🕑 Added 2023-11-05 18:57:00 +0000 UTCWhile we waited for Mr. Eaves to figure out if we had a case or not, Warren and I worked out a plan, or at least the beginnings of a plan. We’d try and pick a region to the west that was close enough to drive to, but far enough that MAC would have limited contacts there to interfere with us.
The real problem was that meant places which were far enough away that we couldn’t make it a ‘day trip.’ We didn’t have time to put together a tour or really even bundle gigs in one area, so we’d have to do one-off shows, and probably sacrifice two Blue Ridge shows for one out west. While shows at actual clubs tended to pay better than the Blue Ridge, they didn’t pay twice as well, so for a while, we’d actually be losing money. Our hope was that, over time, we’d build up a following in that area and be able to start playing larger venues and actually make headway. If we were lucky, we could do that in a year and open up options the following year for a real tour, using the contacts we made during the year.
The other problem, besides the money, was that Warren didn’t actually know any club owners or anyone else outside of MAC’s area. He was still a professional and knew how to talk the talk, but a lot of this business was about relationships, and he needed to build those relationships, which would also take time.
We’ decided to split up some of the work, since I was home and had the time. I was going through websites, phone books, venue listings, and anything else I could find, trying to track down clubs and find a workable phone number for them, if I could. He had some ways to find those I couldn’t, but having the names of places helped him a lot. For now, we’d yet to decide on which region we were going to target because it was unclear how many clubs and venues we would find in one area.
Our best hope was going northwest, toward Eastern Missouri, northwestern Tennessee, and southern Illinois, all of which were fairly well populated and had the most venues. The problem with that was that MAC had regular contacts as far west as eastern Illinois, and they’d done some business a little further west, so targeting that region might not get us clear of their influence. Going straight west didn’t get us much, since it was mostly Tennessee and Northern Arkansas, which was a lot of open country and, outside of Memphis, not heavily populated.
Our last hope was southwest Tennessee, which still included Memphis, but also northern Mississippi, and northern Alabama. MAC was weaker in the south in general, so they didn’t have as much business west of Atlanta, which might mean we could add some of eastern Georgia into the mix. While still not as populated as the more northern option, it was better than going straight west, as far as options went.
What all that meant, for now, was that I had a huge section of the country that I needed to research, going city by city and county by county, trying to find any club, bar, or venue where we might have even a small chance at getting a booking, which also had music that wasn’t to different from our style of music. After a couple days, it was clear how massive the work ahead of us was. I’d only found a handful of good contacts so far, and only marked off one actual city from my growing list, and this wasn’t filling me with a lot of hope.
I was actually glad when the doorbell rang, allowing me to step away from the computer. I would have thought differently had I known who was on the other side of the door.
“Hey, Charlie,” Sydney said when I pulled open the front door.
For a moment, I didn’t say anything, I just stood there staring at her in surprise. Sydney was the last person I expected to find standing on my porch. We hadn’t spoken since our bitter breakup right after my mom’s funeral last year. While it hadn’t ended with yelling or breaking things, it had been brutal, at least from my end. Even though I’d clearly ended things in my head and had no interest in ever dating her again, seeing her there, on my porch, brought all the hurt and betrayal right back to the surface.
“I’m back from camp,” she said, shuffling her feet and not quite meeting my eyes. “Just got home today and I thought I’d come and … uhh, check on you.”
“Why?” I asked bluntly.
I don’t know if she was just that nervous, or if my less than friendly response took her by surprise, but she didn’t answer right away. I could understand why she’d be nervous, but I just couldn’t fathom why she’d think to come by and see me, considering how she ended things.
“I’ve had some time, this summer, to think about us,” she finally said. “I made a mistake, Charlie. I shouldn’t have broken up with you, at least not the way I did. You’d just … everything you went through, it was cruel. I made a mistake.”
“So you came to apologize?” I asked, still not getting the whole purpose of her being here.
“No. I mean, yes, I did want to apologize, but... breaking up was a mistake. I let my dad get in my head and everything was so confusing. I’ve realized that I still really do like you and was hoping we could... I don’t know, try again.”
I stared at her in disbelief. While I was all for people changing their minds, she’d ripped my heart out just after I buried my mother and while everything was falling apart for me. How anyone could drop someone they claimed to care about in their darkest moment, and come back after they’d had to pick up the pieces on their own, was beyond me.
“Sydney...” I began carefully. “I appreciate you realizing you made a mistake. But you can’t take back what happened. You left me at the moment I needed you the most. You can’t just say I’m sorry and expect everything to be okay. A lot has happened since then. A lot has changed.”
“So you wouldn’t be willing...” she started to ask, but I cut her off.
“No. I guess I appreciate you deciding I was worth a second chance, but I’m with Kat now. I’m not the type of person who’ll just drop someone on a whim, or if someone else comes along.”
That was a low blow, and a little mean, but I didn’t care. She’d made her choice and she had to live with that.
“So you were so heartbroken that you immediately jumped into things with Kat?” she demanded, her expression hardening.
“Whoa, pump the brakes there,” I said, holding up my hands. “You’re the one who broke up with me, remember? I didn’t end things between us.”
“But you always insisted you two were just friends.”
“We were, at the time. Things changed very recently, not that it’s really any of your business anymore. Kat was there for me when everything was falling apart, and we’ve gotten closer because of it. Hell, I needed someone I could lean on after the people that supposedly cared for me just dropped me cold.”
Sydney crossed her arms, glaring at me. I could tell she was furious, but I wasn’t about to apologize. She had no right to be angry about who I dated. I was serious when I said she’d made her choice.
“You expect me to believe that we were together for most of the year and a month after we break up, you just happen to develop something with her?”
“I don’t care what you believe, because I don’t have to answer to you for anything. I’ll say it again, since you can’t seem to remember. You broke up with me, not the other way around. You don’t get to be upset about who I end up dating after that. Hell, you left me after my mom died, while I was being wrongfully tried for her death, after I lost my music contract, and after I’d been kicked out of school. You knew all of that, and still chose that moment to break up with me. Only one of us has any right to be angry about how things ended, and that’s not you.”
She swiped at a tear that escaped from her eye and was trickling down her cheek. For a second, part of me felt bad. I didn’t hate Sydney, and I even understood why she’d done what she’d done. But the rest of me knew I didn’t do anything wrong, and she didn’t get to come at me now that she regretted her decision.
“Look, Sydney, I’m sorry this upsets you,” I said. “But you’ve gotta understand, you made your choice when you broke up with me. I needed support with everything I was going through, and instead, you left.”
Sydney opened her mouth to respond, but I held up a hand.
“Let me finish. Too much has happened. I don’t hate you, and I think, in some way, I’ll always care about you. I really did like you, but I’ve moved on, and I need you to do the same. Maybe one day we can be friends again, but for now, I need space. Take care of yourself, Sydney.”
With that, I stepped back inside and closed the door softly but firmly. I felt bad for her, but I wasn’t going to let her come back into my life and pretend like nothing happened, and I definitely wasn’t going to let her try to take the high road, getting mad because I was with Kat.
***
Monday morning, I finally heard from Mr. Eaves about how to respond to MAC’s interference in my career. I hadn’t been sleeping well the last several days, probably because of how worried I was now that we’d finished the gigs set up by Willie, coupled with how worried I was about Willie’s condition. So when I finally did fall asleep, I found myself sleeping much later into the day, which is why I was still asleep when the sound of my phone ringing startled me awake.
I blinked a few times, momentarily confused before reaching over and grabbing my phone. I saw Mr. Eaves’ name on the screen and hit the accept button.
“Hello?” I mumbled.
“Charlie, it’s Arthur Eaves,” his brisk voice said when I answered. “I was discussing the possibility of a new case against MAC that Warren brought me, and we both thought it would be better if you were on the call at the same time, so this doesn’t have to be repeated twice. I have Warren here on the line with us.”
I sat up, all the sleepiness washing out of me. I’d tried to be patient, waiting to hear from him, but it had been difficult. We’d managed to find a few possible gigs in St. Louis, but with eighteen hours of round-trip driving, a Saturday gig there would mean losing at least two Blue Ridge shows, and none of them paid enough to make staying overnight actually worth it. Hopefully, this call was how we could get MAC to back off and let us get back to work again.
“Tell me you found something we can use to sue them.” I said immediately.
“It’s possible to sue anyone over anything, but this won’t be like the last lawsuit you had against MAC,” Mr. Eaves replied. “For one, trying to sue a company for various anti-competitive actions is a lot harder when they’re small. If they were larger, there are various trust and monopoly laws we could use, but companies are allowed to work out exclusive deals with vendors to limit a competitor’s access, as long as the vendor has a legitimate choice in the matter.”
“But threatening to take away all their performers isn’t a real choice! How can that be considered legitimate?” I asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
“That isn’t the legal definition of the word, unfortunately,” Mr. Eaves replied calmly. “For one, it’s not all of the venues performers. Given the relatively small market share MAC holds, they do not have enough influence to make it impossible for venues to operate without their artists. There are enough artists signed with other labels, or unsigned artists, to give venues options. So the threat of withholding those artists from a venue isn’t considered coercion in the eyes of the law.”
That made sense, which just annoyed me all that much more.
“What about tortious interference or defamation?” Warren asked, jumping into the conversation. “Couldn’t we argue that MAC is intentionally interfering with Charlie’s contracts and business relationships?”
“I considered those angles as well,” Mr. Eaves said. “The problem is, defamation requires MAC to have actually said something untrue or disparaging about Charlie to these venues and promoters, which we have no evidence of. As far as we know, they’ve simply made offers and left the decision up to the venues. Unfair pressure, maybe, but not defamation.”
“As for tortious interference, that has a bit more potential since it’s at least possible, but it is an extremely tall hill to climb,” Mr. Eaves continued. “For one, the burden of proof would be on us to show that MAC intentionally and improperly interfered and caused harm, which we don’t have. We’d need testimony from promoters that MAC coerced or threatened them, which none have been willing to provide. Right now, it’s just speculation. You’d end up spending a lot of money in court and end up exactly where you started.”
“But all we need is one or two to of them to tell us what was really said, right?” I argued after a moment of hesitation. “If they are all pretending it’s for other reasons, then there’s a good chance it’s because MAC suggested they use those excuses. I have a good relationship with several of these guys. If I can apply enough pressure, I think I can get one or two to admit to what MAC said.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think you’ll end up getting what you’re hoping for from them. MAC has good lawyers and was probably not so direct as to say ‘if you hire Charlie Nelson, we will no longer let our artists perform at your venue,’” he replied after a moment. “I’ve seen cases like this before and researched similar suits. In almost all of those cases, the language used is purposefully indirect. Both parties understand what they are implying, but no one states anything overtly specific. That way, they can always argue the statement was misconstrued if it ever came to court.”
“Besides that, I think it will be even harder than you imagine to get a venue owner to agree to talk,” Mr. Eaves continued. “They won’t want to end up being brought into court as a party to the lawsuit themselves, which they would become if they admitted to effectively conspiring to keep you out of work. It’s probably why most have had a believable reason to tell you no when you asked about setting up a performance. They want to avoid the trouble that would come along with being part of the lawsuit.”
I flopped back on my bed. Every answer was why nothing would work and we wouldn’t be able to win. I’d never assumed MAC was incompetent, but given the way they’d handled canceling my contract, I’d held out a little hope that there’d be some way to make them back off. We knew they were screwing with my career, but there didn’t seem to be any way to stop them.
“So there’s no way to win this?” I asked.
“I didn’t say there was no way, just that the path is would be difficult and success is unlikely,” Mr. Eaves replied calmly. “You could try applying pressure to promoters you know or hire a private investigator to try and obtain recordings of conversations with MAC, though I doubt that avenue would bear fruit. My recommendation would be to not waste time and money on a lawsuit that has little chance of success and instead focus your efforts elsewhere.”
“I think Arthur’s advice is sound here,” Warren added. “Pursuing a legal fight will cost money and sap our time and energy which we could better use elsewhere. I know it feels unfair, Charlie, but this industry isn’t fair. You won’t always get what you deserve, and neither will the people doing things the wrong way.”
I grimaced. I knew he was right, after all the bullshit I’d had to deal with at school and Mr. Campbell’s actions. I of all people knew the world wasn’t fair, but we’d managed to make them pay, and I’d hoped we would again.
“So what do you think we should do instead?” I asked.
“We keep doing what we’re doing,” Warren said. “We focus on areas outside of their influence and try to stay afloat. Eventually, MAC will get tired of the effort this is taking. Having people out there, monitoring your movements and trying to block you is costing them money, and they’re a business. Eventually, the bottom line will trump their annoyance with you. We just have to keep thinking up new potential paths for you until they reach that point.”
I nodded, mostly to myself. They were right. Fighting tooth and nail was playing right into their hand.
“Fine, we’ll give it up and keep trying to find something else,” I said.
***
I was running late when I pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of the Blue Ridge. Ever since the call with Mr. Eaves and Warren three weeks prior, I’d doubled my efforts to try and find clubs we could play out west that would be even a tiny bit financially possible. So far, the prospects were grim. The cost of gas and everything else that went along with driving a state away was making any option I could find unworkable, and it was starting to get to me.
I still believed I could make this work and that this was what I was meant to do with my life, but there were only a few weeks left until school started and we’d played a total of three shows outside of the Blue Ridge. We did find one place in Montgomery, Alabama, that Warren had scheduled a gig for us at next week, but that was going to be it, since a trip like that was going to be a lot harder to make once I was back in school.
Inside, I saw that Seth and Lyla had already been there. Her bass was on the stage and hooked up, and Seth had moved some things around on the drum kit from where they were for the previous night’s show. Neither one of them were there at the moment, but they could have been out back or gone to pick something up. Instead, Tabitha was standing by the stage, looking at her phone. Not that we needed someone watching our stuff. Between Chef and the rest of the staff, we knew everyone and trusted them. It was unusual, actually, to see Tabitha at all. Saturdays were her day off from the factory, and she usually preferred to stay home and just relax... or so Lyla said.
“Hey, Tabitha,” I said, setting my case on the stage. “Where’s Lyla and Seth?”
“They went back to our place to pick up something,” Tabitha said, tucking her phone back in her pocket. “I’m glad you’re here, though. I wanted to talk to you about something.”
The way she said that was ominous, and my stomach sank a bit. We weren’t exactly friends, and usually she just avoided me, so Tabitha wanting to talk to me didn’t bode well.
“Okay,” I said.
“I’m gonna be straight with you,” she said, crossing her arms. “I think you’re letting Lyla down.”
I blinked, surprised. “What? No, I...”
“Maybe not intentionally,” she interjected. “But Lyla was doing pretty decent on her own before joining up with you guys, or at least making it on her own. Now she’s playing the same bar every weekend and splitting her pay three ways.”
“I know it’s been slow, but we’re working on booking more gigs...”
“But that’s not working out, is it?” she said. “It’s been slow and you’ve been trying to book more gigs all summer, and you’re in exactly the same place you started. You made big promises but you aren’t delivering. Lyla has talent. She could be chasing real opportunities instead of waiting around for you to get your act together.”
“Look, I know it hasn’t been easy, but we’re going to figure it out. I told Lyla this could work, and I meant it.”
“Words are cheap. You can make all the promises you want, but it’s not happening. Worse, it’s keeping Lyla locked here, giving up any other chances she might have. You know, I tried to convince her to quit, go out on her own or even start looking for something outside of music, but somehow you’ve made her into a true believer.”
“If you want me to talk to her, I can, but I don’t know what you think I should say. She’s got real talent and we can make this work. It’s only been a few months since everything fell apart. We just need to give it enough time.”
Tabitha crossed her arms and shook her head. “We both know that no matter how much time you take, it’s unlikely this is ever going to work out. You spent your childhood watching someone chase this dream and never reach it. So why do you think it’ll end any differently for you?”
Her words stung. From an outside observer, maybe there was some kind of comparison, and my dad did spend years struggling, bouncing from one small-time gig to the next, but I wasn’t my father.
“Things are different now,” I argued. “We’ve already had some success, we just need to rebuild it. If we can get back out there touring ...”
“And how’s that going?” Tabitha interrupted. “You’ve been trying all summer to book gigs and it’s not happening. You’ve got what, a year of high school left? Then you’ll be off to college while Lyla’s still stuck here, getting older, watching her dreams slip away. She’s twenty-six already, she can’t wait until her thirties to realize this isn’t going to work.”
I opened my mouth to argue but Tabitha barreled on, “If you want to keep chasing this, go ahead. You’re still young, you have options. But stop dragging Lyla down with you. If you really care about her, if you respect her talent, you’ll shut this band down now, before it goes any further.”
“I’m not going to do that,” I said, shaking my head. “You really think if I shut this down, Lyla would just give up music and move on? This is her dream, her passion. It’s who she is.”
Tabitha scowled, arms still crossed defensively. “It was a nice dream, but it’s time to face reality. She’s wasting her time and talent with this band. You both are.”
“No, we’re not,” I argued. “Look, I get it. You care about Lyla and you want what’s best for her. But forcing her to give up on music, that’s not what’s best for her. If you really love someone, you have to accept them for who they are. Lyla is an amazing musician. She was born to do this.”
Meeting her glare steadily, I said, “I made a promise to Lyla, to all of them. That we would make this work. It hasn’t been easy, but we’re figuring it out. We just need time. I’m not giving up, and I know Lyla won’t either. Not when this is everything she’s ever wanted.”
Tabitha didn’t look convinced, lips pressed in a tight line. I stepped closer, looking her in the eye.
“I’m not going to let Lyla down ... or anyone else counting on me. We’ll get there. It might take longer than we hoped, but we’ll do it. This band is my dream too, and I’m not about to walk away and leave Lyla, or anyone else, hanging. We will find a way to make this work, whatever it takes!”
Tabitha held eye contact for several beats before saying, “You better. Lyla deserves more than empty promises. Just remember that.”
“I will,” I said.
Tabitha gave a short nod, then turned on her heels and walked away without another word.
Comments
James Bartling
so know Charlie has three women to deal with
