Jamie sighed for what seemed like the millionth time that hour. The word of the month: Rejection.
Week after week she would receive letters politely rephrasing the words, you suck. She had sent over 20 demo tapes to different companies, and they all replied: We're not looking for new talent in your area...You're not quite what we need...maybe some other time...blah blah blah! It was all mindless garble that she swore was shared by all the record companies. It must have been on file under the UNIVERSAL POLITE REJECTION header.
There were two companies that hadn't replied yet, but she was giving up hope. She still didn't have a manager, well, other than her father, but working as the janitor at an accounting firm doesn't count as experience.
"Damn you all to He-"
"James Rylee Tanning! Watch your language!" Jamie cringed as her dad stuck his head into her bedroom. She hated it when he used her full name.
"Sorry dad. I got caught up in the moment."
"Yea well, try not to let it happen." She sighed again as his head left the doorway. She threw her hands up in the air and watched as the papers came floating down; seemingly harmless, until you read them.
"Daddy, why isn't this working? I mean...am I not good enough?" She shuffled into the small area that constituted as their kitchen/dining room/living room in their humble trailer home.
"Baby, don't ever tell yourself that you're not good. You are very talented, and those companies are so stupid for passing you by. We'll make it baby, give it time." He finished up their dishes from diner and wiped down the table.
"Daddy, I've given it years! I can't wait anymore...I just can't wait." She closed her eyes to ward off the tears of frustration that threatened to spill.
"Well...Do you have anything left in you? Because there's a talent show this weekend, in Nashville. I got you a spot." Jamie's eyes lit up as she looked at her father.
"You did? Nashville?!" When he nodded in confirmation she squealed with delight. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you Daddy!" She kissed his cheek and went back into her room.
Digging through her closet she tried to find an outfit that said "look at me" without actually saying "look at me." She picked out a pair of jeans that she had "designed" herself by bleaching the sides and around the pockets. Jamie had found that she could make jeans that looked just as good as the new styles, but cost much less. She had to buy from second hand stores, and she even hit Salvation Army a few times. Times were tough for her and her father. He worked three jobs to only get about $200 a week. Jamie had a job too, but her father wanted her to focus more on her singing, than anything else.
After deciding that the jeans would do, she went on her next mission: A shirt. This was going to be the hard part. She was going to Nashville, the Country Music Capitol of the world. She found a button down shirt that looked retro-western, if you can picture that. It was blue and green, and it made her eyes stand out. It would have to do, because it was all she had at the moment. But things would change; she would make sure of that.
Chris sat in his chair and listened intently to his band mate speak on the phone.
"I know I said I'd be there...but something came up, and honestly I don't have the time for a new project right now." Lance's smooth, patient voice was starting to acquire an edge as the conversation went on. "Yes, Mr. Martin, I know that I agreed to listen to the performers, and I know they we're looking forward to me being there, but I don't have the time." There was a slight pause and Lance took that opportunity to roll his eyes. "How about I try and find someone to fill my shoes? Like I said, I really don't have the time or space for a new artist at the moment, but I might know a few people that do....MmmHmm. All right then, I'll call you back tomorrow, If I don't have someone, I'm going to have to cancel." He finished off his conversation and as soon as the connection was broken he let out a frustrated scream.
"Woah there pal...keep you're shirt on. What's the problem?" Chris reached out to pat him on the shoulder but pulled back quickly when he saw the fire in Lance's eyes.
"I told this guy that I'd attend a talent show in Nashville, and listen for a possible new artist for my label."
"But?" Chris started.
"...but I don't have the time for a new artist right now. I'm so busy with everything else that it would be impossible to balance that too. I just wish I hadn't said yes, because he told a bunch of the performers that I'd be there to give them a shot."
"Well...Why don't you go and then say that you didn't like what you saw? You'll make them happy by showing up, and you don't have to take a new artist."
"No, my whole reason for not going in the first place is because I have other things scheduled for that day...it was later I decided I didn't want new talent for Free Lance." Chris nodded in understanding and stroked his chin thinking.
"Well Lance...I have one thing to say to you..." He waited until he had the man's undivided attention. "You're screwed." Lance groaned as a big grin slid across his friends face and Chris jumped up before he could hit him.
"You're such an ass." Chris grinned at the statement.
"But I'm the cutest damn ass you've ever seen." Lance had to chuckle, but it didn't do much to lighten his mood.
"Why don't you ask Curly to go? He'd love a chance to 'get back to his roots' and all he has to do is listen, he doesn't have to sign anyone." Chris reasoned, and he was proud of himself for thinking of such a great idea.
"Tried that already. Justin's got things to do, and he didn't seem to keen on the idea. I don't know what his problem is lately, but I find it's easier to deal with if you just leave him alone." Chris nodded in agreement.
"I know what you mean dude...Know what you mean." He sat back down again and drifted off in his own world. Lance was still desperately thinking of someone else to go when he noticed Chris' shirt. FuManSkeeto. Suddenly a light bulb flashed over his head, but he'd have to work this just right.
"Well...enough about my dilemma, what are you going to do on our short but needed vacation?" He asked, hoping to get Chris' guard down.
"Me? I'm just hanging out. Dani was going to come down and we were going to go over some designs for Fuman, but other than that, I was just planning on chilling out." He let out a contented sigh.
"So...how is FuMan? And Ron...that singer you had, how is he?"
"Great, great. I got Ron signed to a great label. He's doing good...why you...wait a minute!! Wait a damn minute!" He stood up quickly, moving away from Lance. "I know what you're trying to do...Nuh uh, No way man."
"Come on Chris. Like you said, you don't have to take anyone...and it's perfect. You do have a label, and you do look for new talent...For me man? Please?"
"Yes, I do have a label, but not for Country Hicks! I'm not looking for new talent either man...NO! I...Oh come on, don't give me that look..." He turned away at the pleading look in Lance's eyes.
"Come on Chris. You said it yourself, you don't have to commit to anything...just show up and bob your head, and everything will be cool." Chris continued to shake his head, but they both knew it was in vain.
"When is this thing anyway?"
"Saturday...at Noon. I have the tickets, and the hotel reservations and everything that you'll need. All you need to do is show up and smile. They'll be happy, I'll be off the hook...and I'll..."
"You'll own me one...BIG TIME! Got it buddy? And for the record, I'm going against my will." He grumbled.
"For the record, I love you Chris!! You are a life saver. I'll just call Mr. Martin back, and tell him that you'll be there, and I do owe you one. But Thank You! So much." A newly elated Lance picked up the phone and Chris shuffled into the hallway, never again would he listen in on people's phone conversations.
Jamie flipped the pages of her notebook and sighed.
"Daddy! What song should I do? I mean...I was thinking about 'Fate' but that's net very challenging vocally." She kept talking and flipping and didn't notice when her dad stopped in the doorway.
"Honey...Jamie." She looked up at him when he raised his voice. "Jamie, I was thinking that you should do a remake. I mean, I know it's good that you write your own songs, and I don't want you to stop, but I think you should do something they'll know, and something they know is challenging. It'll..."
"It'll show them that I can be another "somebody else". I don't want that Daddy, I want them to listen to my music and my voice and be amazed."
"They will Baby. But if you're singing your own song, then they'll be listening to the lyrics, and not your voice."
"What are you saying?" She demanded, eying him closely.
"All I'm saying is that if you sing a song that's already a hit, then you know they'll like it. You won’t have to worry about them criticizing your music. And if someone likes you for your talent, then you can tell them all about your song writing and they'll like you that much more." Jamie thought about it, and it didn't sound that bad. But she still didn't want to give in.
"What if I wrote another song, and showed it to you...I..." She stopped when her father shook his head.
"No, Jamie...I think you should find a challenging song you like, and we'll discuss it later. Right now you need to get some sleep."
"Dad, it's only 8."
"Don't start with me young lady. You have to get up early anyway; you need to get in some extra hours at work so you can have a little money in Nashville."
"Yes, sir." She mumbled and kissed her father goodnight. She closed the door and waited for her father's nightly sounds to cease. Then she turned on her small lamp and got out her notebook. She wanted to finish the music to this one song she was writing, and she didn't care what her father said...she was going to sing it.
Chris adjusted the sun glasses over his eyes and mumbled something about Lance being terribly in debt to him for the rest of his natural born life.
"What was that Spaz?" Chris' bodyguard, Tim, asked.
"Nothing Hercules." He let out an exasperated sigh. "I should be sleeping in, it's my damn vacation!"
"Oh don’t tell me that you wouldn't be bouncing off the walls looking for something to do by noon time today. I know how you work kiddo."
"Yea, but I would've slept until 11, and then bounced off the walls at 12. I got up at 6 this morning! That's a sin in my book."
"Yea well, so did I, and if it's a sin, I'm going to Hell in a hand basket. You don't want to know how many times I've gotten up on my day off to cart you kiddies around...so quit whining, I feel like a parent and I ain't even got a girlfriend!"
"Yeah? Well, then I pray to God I look like Mother, You old, ugly fart..."
"I'd watch you mouth son...I know where you sleep at night." Chris pretended to shudder. In all honesty he wasn't to upset about having to go. He actually wanted to see what this place had to offer, and although he knew it would be a lot of country, he could put up with it. Today he wanted to see some talent, even though he wasn't planning on adding anyone on to his company. He just wanted something fresh, and new...and not pop.