Drop Dead | Sam Fender

Chapter Ninety Three

Aurora

It took a while and a lot of work to get back to how we were before. For weeks after, Sam was petrified of doing anything wrong, tiptoeing around me as if I was glass. I got fed up with it in the end and told him to wise up, which soon sent us back on the straight and narrow, thankfully.

Starving ended up getting released at the start of March after some minor technical difficulties with its production but it didn't affect its performance in any way. Within a week, I got a call from my manager to tell me that it had gone straight to number one in the charts. It was definitely a pinch-me moment, that was for sure. All my friends were so excited for me, showering me with praise. Sam couldn't stop telling me how proud he was of me, surprising me with the prettiest bouquet of roses and sunflowers and a number one charm. I bawled my eyes out when he gave them to me.

Almost a month later, I hadn't been back to London at all. I didn't have anything to record yet, in the midst of writing songs for what would be my debut album. Helen had suggested a co-writer, having links with many incredibly talented writers within the industry but I was adamant that this would be mine, so I stuck with doing what I did best. Writing in my room.

She had arranged a meeting with me, being fairly elusive of the reason why, something about wanting to discuss it in person, which was why I was back in London. I was planning on killing two birds with one stone and going to the studio afterwards, hopeful that I could get a melody I had gotten stuck in my head written whilst I had access to more instruments.

"Hello," Helen beamed as she greeted me at the door of her office, pulling me into a warm embrace.

"Hiya," I smiled, wrapping my arms around her tightly. The two of us parted and took a seat on either side of her desk. "Y'alreet?"

"Yeah, I'm well," she told me. "How are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages! Certainly not since you got a number one."

My face burned brightly at her words as my brain rushed to process them. I was still in a state of shock and disbelief at the fact, so hearing it out loud was enough to send me spiralling. "I'm alreet, aye," I grinned. "What did yer wanna talk about? You've made me a little nervous, I'm not gan lie."

She shook her head and waved me off. "It's nothing to be worried about!" she assured me. "I've got a proposition for you."

"Reet..." I trailed, raising my eyebrow at her vagueness.

"We want you to move to London," she told me plainly.

"Eh?" I gaped.

"You're working on your album now and we think that it will be more beneficial if you're closer to your team," she explained, leaning over the desk and threading her fingers together.

"But my life's in Shields," I frowned. "My family, my friends... my boyfriend."

"And we completely understand, that's why it's a proposition," she smiled knowingly. "It's completely up to you whether you decide to move or not."

"Up to me?" I asked. I wasn't an idiot, I knew when I signed the contract that I was basically selling my soul to them. I saw the freedom that a lot of artists had to give up, their labels demanding they bend over backwards to keep them happy. But so far, I hadn't had that experience. Everyone was warm and welcoming, allowing me all the creative freedom I needed and offering me the breaks that I so desperately needed, especially during Sam's health battle.

"Yes," she nodded. "If you agree, then we can start looking for a place for you to stay and we'll get you settled in as soon as possible."

"And if I don't?" I inquired, my tone sceptical.

Helen smiled knowingly. "Then nothing changes. You get on a train back up to Shields and you carry on like normal, coming down every so often to record, of course," she explained. "It's not a decision you have to make straight away either, Rory. You can have time to decide."

"I want to stay in Shields," I spoke firmly. I didn't need time to decide. My life was in Shields, if I left, I would probably lose a part of me.

"I had a feeling you would say that," she chuckled lightly as she leaned back in her chair. "Have you given my other offer any more consideration?"

"About a co-writer?" I questioned, earning a short nod from the older woman across from me. "I'm good. I don't think I'd be able to write with someone. Maybe in the future but I want my first album to be me."

"You're a stubborn one, you, Rory Nightingale," she smirked.

"So I'm told," I laughed.

"You got any plans for today?" she smiled.

I shrugged, "I was gan head to the studio for a bit like. Take advantage whilst I'm here. There's only so much I can bug my boyfriend for his guitar."

"Of course," she snorted. "He's into music as well, eh?"

"Mhmm," I hummed eagerly. "I might be biased but he's fuckin' class! Writes his own stuff and everything."

"Is he looking for a manager?" she asked curiously, half-joking, half-serious. "If he's as good as you say..."

"He's taken already," I told her with a smile.

"By who? I'm curious to know," she inquired, leaning forward in her chair.

"Owain Davies?" I offered, watching as her mouth formed an o shape. "Yer know him?"

"Heard of him," she informed me. "Ben Howard's manager, right?"

"Aye, that's the one," I nodded.

"I've heard good things about him," she smiled.

"He's lush," I agreed.

"Well, I don't know if you're in a rush to get in the studio but I've got an hour free for lunch if you're up for it. I don't think I've shown you my favourite place to eat around here yet," she suggested.

"Sounds good to me," I replied.

I was so lucky. My manager was an absolute angel, my label was more laid back than I was expecting them to be and my career was only gaining more traction. My friends and family were extremely supportive and my relationship with Sam was finally returning back to what it was before everything took a u-turn last year.

I truly couldn't wish for more.

A/N: The calm before the storm :))