"So do you have any songwriting experience?" Bryce asked in the car.
Ashanté shrugged. "A little. I have a few completed songs, but I don't know how good they are."
Bryce nodded. "That's fine. If they're no good now, we'll make them good in the studio. We'll have to put together a backing band for you and find a manager. I'll need to know your schedule, too, so we can work some gigs around it."
"Already?"
"Soon. First we need to cut a few songs to upload to the online stores so the audience has something to buy. No point in performing before we have something to sell. Are you free at night?"
"Every night?"
"Yup."
Argh. Ashanté pondered it. There go my nights. "Yeah, I guess I'm free. Does this mean I can't go out with my friends anymore?"
"Of course not. They can meet you at whatever club you're playing in."
Grrrr. That wasn't quite what I meant.
Bryce winked. "You'll get plenty of free time. We just need to put together a playlist. Build up some interest for your upcoming CD."
Argh.
"So we'll need some songs. There's a composer or two on the payroll you can work with. Thing is, there's a hundred other artists working with them too."
Ashanté nodded. "I see. Okay, I'll try to write a few more."
"Great. You'll start rehearsing tomorrow."
Ashanté gaped at him. "Tomorrow?"
"Sure. How long does it take to write a country song? Just write something about heartbreak, beer, a pickup truck and a hound dog."
"But I've never owned a dog or a pickup. And I've never drunk beer."
Bryce looked out the window. "Here's your dorm. When's your last class tomorrow?"
"Um, two o'clock."
"Great. I'll send the car for you then."
The chauffeur opened the door for her and the confab was over.
Why did I ever agree to this? Arrrrggh!
YOU ARE READING
Ashes
Romance// BWWM romance // A black teen tries to make a name for herself in the mostly white world of country music. Ashanté wants to be a star like her idols Mickey Guyton, Vicki Vann and Rissi Palmer. Unfortunately, she gets nervous whenever she has to...
