On the Flip Side (8 page)
Authors: Nikki Carter
“Hey, everybody. Congratulations, everybody,” she says before sliding onto one of the couches. She seems totally out of it as she stares at Dilly. He fidgets uncomfortably, but doesn't make an effort to go anywhere near Bethany.
Zac's assistant comes into the VIP suite and announces, “The Epsilon executives are ready to meet now.”
We all file out of the room as if we're on our way to see the President of the United States or something. I wonder if it's going to be a good meeting. If the smile plastered on Mystique's face is any indicator, I'm thinking we should be straight.
There are two men and a woman already seated at the boardroom table when we walk in. I notice that the black guy with the crisp gray suit, pink tie, and huge diamond-encrusted watch is sitting at the head of the table. The power seat.
Neither man stands up from the table as we enter, and I don't care who they are, I think this is pretty rude. They must've been raised up north, because no Southern man would stay seated when women enter the room.
“Look at Epsilon's rising stars!” the guy with the diamond watch says. “Y'all so bright, I should've worn my Chanel shades. UV rays popping off y'all like crazy.”
Zac says as everyone sits, “Allow me to introduce y'all to Evan Wilborn, Caterina Schmidt, and Lawrence Cohen, the heads of Epsilon Records. They already know who you are.”
Evan, the one wearing all the bling, says, “Yes, we know, and congratulations on your success thus far. Big D, you and Mystique have accomplished some wonderful things with this crew, almost by accident.”
“Completely by accident,” Lawrence says. “We've hardly put any marketing behind these projects and still they manage to get number ones. We have no doubt that Dilly's single featuring Drama, and Drama's single featuring Dilly, will reach the same status.”
Caterina nods, but says nothing. She doesn't have to, because Evan seems to like the sound of his voice.
He continues, “Now, it's time to put our money where our mouths are at Epsilon Records. We're putting the marketing machine, and the money behind each of these projects. I want this crew to come out in force and take over the rap game, the R & B game and the pop game. We've got all the talent we need in this room, and you're all so young.”
“You've got plenty of time to reign supreme,” Caterina says.
Lawrence says, “Getting straight to the point, we're going to combine all of your efforts. Big D in the A Records, Mystical Sounds and Zillionaire Records will be combined under one huge conglomerate called Reign Records. You will be the kings and queens of the industry.”
Big D says, “I didn't know that I put Big D in the A Records up for sale. I've never been a part of Epsilon. I've discovered some great artists that you've compensated me handsomely for, but I am an independent.”
“And what exactly have you accomplished as an independent?” Evan asks. “You were barely afloat until Sunday came along. And then who did you have? Truth? He was a headache from day one. Talented but troubled, and everybody knew it. Not one major label wanted to fool with him.”
“Truth just needs some guidance,” Big D says. “He's one of the best rappers in the industry right now.”
“But he'll never have any longevity,” Caterina says. “Not with his history of violence.”
“We're talking about making Reign Records a force to be reckoned with,” Lawrence says. “We've already got major endorsements lined up. A movie deal in the works for Sunday. Television appearances for Drama. This is the beginning of a hostile takeover of the industry.”
Somehow, I feel like we're being suckered and bamboozled, like there's something they're not saying. Everything sounds good. Too good.
“Why do you want to do this for us?” I ask. “I mean, you can find any talented artists, and put money behind them and make them blow up. It just takes some hot songs and some intense marketing.”
“I'm glad you asked that,” Evan says. “We're about creating a legacy. We could find any artists and make millions, but your talentâespecially you, Sundayâis unique. This could mean a legacy for all of us. Not just a financial legacy, but an artistic one. Do you understand what I mean by that, Sunday?”
“Yes, I do. You want to leave something behind for the next generation.”
Evan nods and smiles. “Exactly! I want them to sample our music. I want Epsilon Records to be the success that everyone wants to duplicate. We can do it, you know. With just the people in the room, we can change the game.”
“We're game changers,” Mystique says. “We've already changed the game. Never have there been three Epsilon Records artists vying for T-Mobile Breakthrough Artist. Everyone is watching to see what will happen with us.”
“Does the person who wins get some extra shine? How's that going to work?” Dreya asks.
“You've got to stop thinking about just yourself,” Evan says. “Don't you see that whichever of you wins, it is a win for Reign Records? Shoot, you all go on stage together and accept the award.”
“As a matter of fact,” Mystique says, “for every award that anyone from our camp wins, we all go on stage. Every one of us. We make a statement at the AMAs. We are a family, and there's no competition here.”
I find it funny to hear Mystique give this speech, after what Regina told me. But who knows? Maybe Regina was wrong, and maybe Mystique is drinking the Reign Records Kool-Aid. I don't care what label we're on, as long as they keep signing my checks. That's the most important part for me. I can't finish school if the money stops rolling in.
Sam speaks up, “So will I be producing on every Reign Records album?”
“You'll be one of the executive producers for these albums, along with Mystique and Sunday on their individual records and with Big D and Zac on everyone else's,” Evan says.
“This all sounds like a dream come true,” Bethany says. “Where do I sign? Let's get this party started!”
Evan jumps up and hands Bethany a jewelry box. “That's what I'm talking about, honey. I love your enthusiasm.”
Bethany stares down at the box in her hand. “Go ahead and open it,” Evan says.
Inside the box is a beautiful diamond pendant with a crown on it. Evan takes it from Bethany's hands and clasps it around her neck.
“This crown is the Reign Records trademark,” Caterina says. “We've had one custom made for each of you.”
How did they know we'd say yes?
“Is everybody down?” Zac asks. “Does anyone have any objections?”
“I can't sign anything without my sister being here,” Dilly says, “but I have absolutely no objections, whatsoever.”
Evan says, “We're taking over BET for spring break. All of their programming will be about us. Every show will be hosted by us. Either on location at the beach or from a studio in Atlanta or New York.”
“I have a question,” I ask. “How is this hostile takeover of the industry going to affect me and my education? I'm serious about becoming an entertainment lawyer. It's what I plan to fall back on when all of this is over.”
“Don't you see, Sunday?” Evan says. “If we do this correctly, you will never be broke again. Never, sweetie. You'll be buried in a platinum casket if you want. Game changers don't have to worry about day jobs.”
“That all sounds good, but it's still a theory for now,” I say. “I believe in everything we're planning to do, but I have to work around my school schedule. That's the only way I can be on board.”
Evan looks exasperated. Guess what? I don't care.
“Okay, Sunday, I understand where you're coming from, but can we reevaluate this at the end of your freshman year? If we are successful enough, you can always revisit your law degree,” Lawrence says.
“The only way I'm signing anything is if we understand how important college is to me,” I repeat stubbornly.
“All right, Sunday,” Evan says. “Your contracts will stipulate that we must work around your school schedule. It will mirror the contract you signed with Mystical Sounds.”
“That's what I'm talking about,” I reply, feeling like I've won a battle, but that this is just the beginning of a war.
Evan hands me a jewelry box. “With this chain, I thee wed.”
“Reign Records, baby!” I say.
“We reign supreme in this mutha!” Dreya says, “I don't need stipulations. Just show me the dotted line. Sunday on that school stuff, I'm on this get-my-money stuff.”
You dang skippy, I'm about this school stuff. I'm not dropping out of school for anyone. Too many doors opened up for me to be able to attend school. Everything fell into place with the music, giving me just enough money to enroll without student loans. There's no way I can ignore that. My mother would say that I was meant to have my education.
I would agree with her.
12
“S
am, I can't believe you just dropped out of school like that.”
am, I can't believe you just dropped out of school like that.”
Sam sighs as he packs our suitcases into the trunk of my car. Me, Gia, Ricky, and Sam are going on a double date for the weekend in Destin. We've just finished our first exams and it's time for our fall break. It's just a long weekend, but we need it so badly.
We're going to spend part of the weekend playing and part working. Gia and Ricky are going to teach me the choreography they've done for my American Music Awards performance. We're doing a medley of “Can U See Me” and a dance remix of “The Highlight.” Piper wanted to tag along, but I nixed it. I don't want her to feel like a fifth wheel.
“Sunday, it's four o'clock in the morning. Way too early for your fussing.”
“Would you rather I fuss now or when we get to the beach? Because when I get to the beach, I want to walk on the sand and play in the water, know what I mean?”
“I know what you mean.”
“So tell me, why did you drop out? And why didn't you say anything to me about it until we were at Zac's house?”
“I dropped out because I'm not like you, Sunday. I'm not an overachiever. I can't do both.”
“You didn't even try, Sam. You gave up too easily.”
“What am I giving up? Doing music is my dream, Sunday. Reign Records is my dream come true. Don't ruin this for me. Oh, and by the way, I didn't tell you because you're not my mother or my wife.”
“Speaking of your mom, what did she say about you dropping out of school?” I just know that Sam's mom was disappointed.
“Unlike you, she thought it was great. She didn't want me to wear myself out going to school and working for Epsilon. She fully supports this.”
Now this quiets me down really quickly. I don't know what else I can say to get Sam to go back to school. I just don't want Sam to get all wrapped up in Evan's fairy tale.
After the meeting at Zac's house, I Googled Evan. Did my research. He was an independent label owner when he started. Something like Big D, but he was out of Philadelphia. He had a whole stable of artists, primarily rappers, but some singers and models (okay, models is a stretch. They were video vixens/groupies/tramps). Anyway, after Evan got his name on the map with a female rapper named The Essence, you never heard from anyone in his camp again. Even The Essence crashed and burned after two records. She ended up on drugs and eventually no one wanted to work with her. Evan thrived, though. He made such an impression on the industry with his brand of one (himself) that Epsilon invited him to be a vice president at their company. Now, five years later, he's a partner.
The thing that stuck with me was the disappearance of his artists. They all, more or less, ended up being one-hit wonders. I don't want that to happen to us. We're too talented to get lost in the matrix.
“All right, Sam, I hear you. I understand, and I won't say anything else about it, but don't hurt me by saying my opinion doesn't matter. Your opinion matters to me.”
Sam's face softens immediately. “I didn't mean it that way. Of course your opinion matters. That's why I'm so upset that you disagree. If I didn't care what you think, I wouldn't be angry. Can we just celebrate our AMA nominations on the beach and work out these dance moves?”
“Yes, we can.”
Sam's smiling at me now, which makes me feel good. I know he's not angry at me, and I don't want him to be, since he's going back to New York City on Tuesday morning.
Gia and Ricky walk up with their little overnight bags, and Sam puts those in the trunk. Gia is ready for the beach! She's got a swimsuit top on with her shorts. The weather is cooling off. It's only in the upper seventies today, but it's still warm enough for a beach weekend, and it'll be a little warmer in Destin.
“We've got a mutiny on our hands,” Gia says.
“What mutiny?”
“Piper, DeShawn, Kevin, and Meagan have a car. They got it from one of Meagan's future sorors. And they said they're crashing our trip!”
I laugh out loud. “Well, okay, I guess. Is Piper trying to stay in our room?”
“Piper and Meagan. DeShawn and Kevin are determined to stay with the guys.”
Sam says, “See, it wouldn't be like this if the rooming arrangements were how I wanted them to be.”
I lift an eyebrow at Sam and shake my head. Lately, he's been hinting that he wants to hook up, and I've been pretty successful at refusing. I care about Sam a whole lot, but what if we sleep together and then we break up? I will feel like it was a waste.
“Gia and Ricky didn't want to do couples rooms either.”
Sam rolls his eyes. “Right. I've landed with the purity bunch.”
“Nothing wrong with it, man!” Ricky says. “What's the rush? You've got your whole life for all that.”
“We're taking you to church next time you come to Atlanta,” Gia says. “You need some Jesus Christ in your life.”
“What? I go to church!” Sam says. “Y'all tripping.”
Ricky says, “Naw, I feel your pain, bro. I feel your pain.”
We all pile into the car, but just before we pull off, the carful of party crashers drives up next to us. Kevin is at the wheel, DeShawn is riding shotgun, and the girls are in the back.
Kevin rolls down his window. “Is it cool for us to tag along? You guys aren't angry, are you?”
Gia rolls down her back window. “No, we're not angry, but y'all still some busters!”
Everyone bursts into laughter, including Sam, who spent the last few minutes brooding over his lack of getting any. He might as well get that off the brain, because it's not going down.
Sam says to Kevin, “Do you need to follow me or do you know the way?”
“We've got a GPS, but can we try to stay together? Just for safety?”
Sam nods. “Yep, but don't drive too slowly. I get my roll on, nahmean?”
“I observe all of the traffic laws,” Kevin says. “Are you going to be speeding?”
I shake my head at Sam to keep him from responding. Sam just nods as I roll the window up.
Then he says, “I suppose we'll get there tomorrow.”
“Destin is like six hours away,” Gia says.
“Not with grandpa driving behind us.”
I feel myself getting drowsy as soon as the car starts rolling. The GPS navigator is charged up and perched on the dashboard. I get into my comfortable position and fluff up my pillow.
Sam laughs. “I should've put you in the back with Gia. I need some conversation, and I can see right now you plan on going to sleep.”
“Okay, we can switch.”
I climb over the back seat, dragging my pillow and blanket with me. Ricky then climbs over me and into the front seat. His move wasn't as graceful as mine, but it's done.
Gia's phone rings. “Hello? ... Oh hush! ... Well, so is talking on the cell phone while driving.”
Gia presses end on her touch screen with a huff. “That was Kevin,” she says. “He said to tell y'all that climbing over seats is not safe.”
“Boo to Kevin! I'm going to sleep now. Wake me up when we get to the beach.”
I actually wake up on my own when the scent of the ocean breeze floats through the open windows.
“Are we there yet?” I ask while stretching as much as I can in the back seat of the car.
“About fifteen minutes away from the hotel, according to the GPS,” Ricky replies.
I look out of the back window and see Kevin following close behind. DeShawn sees me turn around and he waves at me. Okay, what was I thinking saying that they could come alongâespecially DeShawn and all of his flirtatiousness?
“So Ricky tells me that DeShawn was in your video for âThe Highlight,'” Sam says. “How did that go? Was he cool?”
My eyes widen as I bite my lower lip. Is Sam reading my mind or something? Have I put out any clues to let him think I might even be remotely interested in DeShawn? Because I'm not, even though he's interested in me.
“DeShawn is cool, but I think he's hanging with us because he plays ball with Ricky. He does the modeling gig on the side.”
Sam grins at me in the rearview mirror. “You okay, Sunday? You sound a little skittish.”
“Why would you be interrogating me when I first wake up?”
“I didn't know I was interrogating you.”
Ricky says, “We were talking about the video shoot right before you woke up, Sunday. No biggie. I was just telling Sam how pumped me and Gia are to get to dance on stage on national TV. That's gonna be something great to put on my resume.”
“They're talking about doing a spring break tour. You think y'all would want to dance for that too, if I can make it happen?” I ask.
“Of course I would! Gia's still asleep, but I'm sure I can speak for her too when I say yes!”
We pull up to the Sandestin Resort. This place is off the chain, and I got Epsilon Records to pay for the suites when I told them we were coordinating the American Music Awards performance.
Sam and I walk inside to the front desk to check in while the rest of the boys load our luggage on two carts. The weather is warm and muggy, so the cool air-conditioning in the front lobby is welcomed.
When we're done checking in and getting the room keys, I turn around and see Dreya strutting through the lobby wearing a cute sundress. She's ditched her red wig for a wet and wavy sew-in weave, which at the current time is wet. Her two new sidekicks, Tasia and Kiki, are with her, and they both have on swim apparel too. Kiki's got on a bikini top with some board shorts and flip-flops. Tasia's long legs and big booty are on full display in a tiny miniskirt that almost, but not quite covers her cakes. Her swim top is about two sizes too small, so she looks like she could have a wardrobe malfunction at any moment.
“Sunday!” Dreya says as she trots toward me with arms outstretched. A hug? Really?
“What took y'all so long to get here?” Dreya asks. “We've been here since yesterday.”
“We weren't planning to be here until today. Did Big D tell you we'd be here yesterday?”
“No ... Evan flew us in. He said that Reign Records artists should show up together all over the place, but keep it classy at all times.”
Tasia is giving Sam the eye like I'm not even here. Rude heifer will get smacked with a quickness if she keeps that up. Kiki plays with her phone and seems oblivious to the fact that we're here.
“Hi, Kiki. Hi, Tasia,” I say with a polite wave.
Tasia's face lights up and she runs over to hug me too. I'm sure the man who walked behind her while she hugged me got a great view of her hind parts.
“I can't believe you remember my name!” Tasia says. “I didn't expect you to.”
“Why wouldn't I? You're friends of my cousin, so of course I would.”
Kiki looks up and gives us a head nod, and then goes back to her phone. I guess that was a hello.
I do not understand how Kiki and Tasia equal “keeping it classy,” but whatever. “We're going to work on some choreography for the awards show.”
“I know,” Dreya says. “Evan told me to get with you about that too, because he wants me to rap on your song. He wants everyone to know that there's no beef, and it's all love with the Reign artists.”
Okay, I wasn't irritated at first, but now I am super annoyed. The smug look on Dreya's face tells me that she thinks she has an ally in Evan. It's not like I don't want her to have anyone on her team, but it was sure a lot easier when she wasn't constantly showing up, already in the know.
“All right, let us get settled in first and we'll call you when we're ready to work.”
Dreya nods. “We're on our way to the beach. Maybe we'll see you out there.”
Sam and I watch the hood-like trio walk away as do the majority of the guests here at the Sandestin. I don't think they're used to seeing this type of activity in their quiet little five-star resort. I just pray that Dreya doesn't give anyone a reason to treat her badly.
“What's up with that?” Sam asks. “Why didn't you know she was coming? Can somebody spell blindsided?”
I don't answer Sam's questions because I'm dialing Mystique. Because of what Regina told me, I don't trust Mystique enough to tell her what I think of Evan. I will keep that to myself, but I do want to get her opinion of Dreya being a part of my performance at the American Music Awards.
“Hey, Sunday. Did you make it to Destin?” Mystique asks.
“I did. Guess who else is here?”
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