Broken Strings

One

"I had nothing to do with that!"

"People are wondering if you helped to cover it up. You were his bandmate and his best friend from childhood. No one believes that you were oblivious to what was going on. And then with the release of that news article today—"

"Trace is just being a bastard for no reason. It's what he does. You know that better than anyone because you were his manager too," Brock said heatedly, not even wanting to think of the name Trace Strickland again for the rest of his life. "I didn't have a clue and all of that crap that he's spewing in the media is just to keep slandering my name since I'm still making music and he's not."

"You and I know that Brock but what the media knows is that you and Trace were roommates for a long time," Desirae replied, calm and cool. Everything Brock wasn't. "There are others who speculate that you, Grayson, and Jeremiah helped cover up everything that Trace is being accused of. Some are even saying that you, and the others, played a direct role in it."

Brock felt as if he was going to throw up. "You know I – that's not who I am, Des. I wouldn't – I couldn't."

"I know that."

He sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest as he scowled. Not at Des but the situation.

Desirae sighed. "Listen, all I'm trying to say is that you're not exactly presenting a family-friendly image, Brock. You know what the country music crowd is like. They want a wholesome, simple, American-dream kind of life. And what you're giving them right now is rumours and scandal which means the only people you're attracting right now are paparazzi. I don't agree with what's happening to you, Brock, and you know that I've been busting my ass to do whatever I can to save your image and your career. At the end of the day, there's only so much I can do."

"This is bullshit," he snarled.

"Maybe," she countered. "But it's what you're facing and I'm not going to sugarcoat that for you."

Brock dropped his head into his hands, trying to figure out how this had all happened. Well, he knew how it had all happened. Only one thing had led him down this path.

Befriending Trace Strickland.

Brock swore. Then lifted his eyes. "What do you recommend I do, Des?"

"I've set up a meeting with your new studio execs on Sunday. Their names are Julio Alvarez and David Porter. They also happen to own Hype Records based here in L.A. They're planning on a press release Monday morning to announce you as one of their artists but they want to talk before that happens."

That made him feel a smidge better. Not much, but at least he knew some artists who were signed with Hype and they seemed to like their label and be doing okay. He didn't know if the same was true for Eclipse Records. It was too new in the industry and only a handful of artists had been signed. Most of them were young or fairly new to the scene. Brock didn't know anyone who had willingly jumped ship from a reputable label to sign with them.

"Okay," he said resignedly. "What else?"

"Take their advice. I'm sure they'll have lots of it so listen to them and apply it. Your name might be getting dragged through the mud right now, Brock, but at least you've still got your name out there. People have come back from worse, believe me."

Brock thought of the headline he'd seen that morning as he'd walked through the city on his way to Des' office. Splashed across the front cover of some trashy magazine were the words, 'No Place to Hide – Shocking Secrets from Tallahassee's Dark Past. Trace Strickland Tells All.'