Сара Пинскер - A Song for a New Day

“Do you really think that’s what we’re doing?” The weariness was gone from Luce’s voice, replaced by something hard-edged. Disbelief, disappointment. Conviction. “I don’t think you do, and I don’t think we are. Playing for the same people every week is a different challenge from touring. I have to make every night interesting. It pushes me to keep writing.”

“Your songs deserve a bigger audience. If I hadn’t come here I’d think you were still ‘Blood and Diamonds,’ not all your amazing new stuff. I’d never have heard you again if I hadn’t come here.”

“And why did you come? You said you were here to check out music. You meant for StageHolo, not for yourself.” It wasn’t a question.

“For both. I’d never have been able to leave home if it hadn’t been for this job. I wanted to go places. I wanted to hear music I hadn’t heard before, and see stuff I hadn’t seen.”

“Ha. They sent you on tour.” There was no humor in her laugh. “Did they know I was here all along? How did you find my place?”

“Aran Randall told me to come here.”

“That figures.”

“He said there was great music happening. He was right.”

“And you thought you’d come in and convince me to leave everything I had going here? Or did you arrange the raid tonight, too, to give me impetus?”

“I had no idea about the raid,” Rosemary said with what she hoped was believable sincerity. “I swear. And Aran didn’t mention you, only the 2020. I was the one who decided which bands to pass along.”

“Wait—so if I agreed to sign, but only as ‘Harriet’ without the nostalgia factor, would the offer still stand?”

“ Mine stands,” said Rosemary. “I told them about you because you make amazing music, not because of your name.”

“But you recognized me your first night. Did it color your opinion at all?”

“It made me excited to hear you, but I wouldn’t have bothered telling them about you if you’d sucked.”

“That’s comforting. Did you make this offer to any other bands here, or just me?”

“You, the Handsome Mosquitoes, and Kurtz. Both of them have live auditions arranged. I was supposed to offer Joni’s band as well, but I never got the chance.”

“So even if we hadn’t been raided tonight, you were taking my bands.”

“Some of your bands, and only if they wanted to go. I have a feeling Joni wouldn’t have been interested.”

“I’d guess you’re right. Okay. What’s the next step?”

“The next step?”

“Do you tell them I’m interested, or do I put on your hood thingy, or do they send lawyers to darken my doorstep?”

“You’re interested? For real? I can reach them now if you’d like.”

“Not tonight. Jesus. Come back tomorrow after I get some sleep and we can figure it out. Right now you should go home.”

Rosemary let Luce walk her from the apartment, out the front door. “See you tomorrow,” she said. “I’m sorry this place is over.”

“Me, too, Rosemary Laws. Me, too.”

Walking back to the hotel drunk wasn’t the smartest idea, but when she checked the time, it was later than the last buses, and she didn’t feel like waiting for a single-cell. She was waiting for the elevator, debating whether to send a message about Luce now or let Management stew on what they had done, when a hand touched her back. She jumped.

“Nice place,” said Joni. She put her hands on her hips and made an exaggerated show of examining the vestibule. “Is this where your friends live?”

“You scared me.”

“Good.”

“Why are you angry?”

“Because after the police left, I called a cop I know, and she said the raid tonight was a tip called in from outside the city. You’re the only one who’s shown up lately from outside the city. And I went back to check on Luce, and I saw you walking out, and I thought I’d follow you a couple blocks, but you kept walking, so I kept walking to keep an eye on you, and sure enough, here we are at a hotel that I’m doubting is where your friends live.”

“Can I explain?”

“Please.”

“Do you want to come upstairs so the lobby doesn’t call security because your voice is raised?”

Joni shrugged and didn’t speak. Rosemary took the opportunity to cancel her elevator call for a single-person party, and call again for two, with an extra thumb-swipe to confirm.

She’d finally figured out how to open the shades the day before, and had left them open. When they got into the room, Joni walked straight to the window. “I haven’t seen the city from this angle since I was a kid. It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah. I stare out there every night.”

Neither spoke for a minute, then Joni broke the silence. “So. Explain?”

“I wasn’t the one who called for the raid. I swear I had no idea they would do that. I didn’t ever tell them where the 2020 was—not even the name!” She wracked her brain for anything she might have said to betray Luce and her club. “I work for SHL, but my job is to recruit new talent.”

“Are you good at it?”

“I don’t know. This was my first assignment.”

“Were you successful? Did you bring back heads for your trophy wall?”

No point lying. “Kurtz. The Handsome Mosquitoes. Luce. And I was going to ask you, only I never found a way to ask.”

“Yeah?”

“Your band is awesome. There isn’t anybody on SHL doing what you’re doing.”

“Well, thanks. Did Luce really say yes?”

“She said she’d talk to them.”

“She said that before or after the raid?”

“After. Joni, I really, truly didn’t know they were going to shut the place down.”

“Huh. So you told them about all of us, but you never mentioned the club?”

“I didn’t. They knew I had found a place here, but I only sent them names of bands and vid—” Oh. “The videos. I sent them footage of Kurtz, but I didn’t scrub the location. I forgot about the metadata.” She sat on the bed, covered her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I did this. But they would have found a way no matter what, I think. Whether or not I had done something stupid. They’d have tracked my Hoodie or asked the bands or something. I didn’t know ’til tonight, but I think they do that everywhere.” Rosemary didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t want to look at Joni. “So, do you have any interest? In being a trophy on my wall?”

“Being a StageHolo musician? No, thanks. I can’t believe you’re still asking.”

“You won’t even consider it? Making music full-time? Getting paid? Getting your songs in front of millions of people?”

“I told you the night we met. They won’t want me. They’ll want to fix me in ways I’m not interested in being fixed.”

“You won’t know until you try.”

“No. I do. I’d rather play in my living room for six people than be a moneymaker for a company that deliberately ends scenes like ours or tells us we need to work on our sex appeal. They don’t understand that music isn’t just the notes we play. It’s the room and the band and the crowd. I’m not interested in faking any of that.”

“But the room is gone.” Rosemary’s fault, even if she hadn’t called it in. “Maybe I can convince them to tell the cops it was a mistake. They raided the wrong place. I can still get Luce out of trouble.”

“You do not get to fix this, Rosemary. You broke it, but it’s not yours to fix. You’ve done enough damage. That room is gone, but there are others. Or there will be. Maybe I’ll start one, but if I do, you’re not invited.” There were tears in Joni’s eyes, but she blinked them away. “What are you going to do? You’ve got your bands. What happens now?”