Sold Out

Cold air flew suddenly in Addison’s face as she opened the door to leave. They’d finished the CD, and she was free of this recording studio. It was liberating, knowing they had a complete set of tracks laid out for mass distribution. This, their second album would be the band’s best shot at fame. Addison couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Her band-mates followed close behind, just as stunned by the frigid winds of December. Riley ran up to Addison’s side, pulling her into a half-hug.
“We did it, Addie.” He whispered, letting go of her shoulder and smiling from behind his trademark Ray-bans.
“Yeah,” she smiled back, shouting, “We’re free!” as the others caught up. Though recording was fun for the others, Addison always dreaded the studio. She was forced to sing duplicates of the same phrase over and over again. Riley wasn’t such a fan either, he was stuck tracking the back-up vocals after laying down the bass track. The other two looked a bit less excited at the prospect of a finished album. Carter loved recording. It was the only time he got to be the star of the show as a guitarist. Then there was Eric, who would’ve been drumming all day anyway, studio or not. Together, they were Race You for It. Separately they were Addie, Riley, Carter, and Eric: a group of teenagers who were lucky enough to get discovered before the end of high school.
Addison remembered those days quite clearly: high school. She and Riley weren’t friends with Carter and Eric until junior year; quite frankly, she missed those days without them. Though Addie felt close enough to the two of them, her relationship with Riley had always been different. They were never the type to finish each other’s sentences; that was what made their friendship last. There was always something new to discover. Unfortunately, the band had taken over both of their lives and the closeness had faded. It didn’t make sense to her. She could picture that day, even now, when they’d gotten called about a record deal. He had tackled her with one of his classic bear hugs. They jumped around in circles, just holding each other and smiling. This band was supposed to have made them closer. She wondered what went wrong. “You guys can’t really be that psyched to be done,” Carter retorted with a hint of disbelief.
“Actually, I’m pretty sure we can, Car. You weren’t the one killing your vocal chords.”
“Whatever, Addie. You know you love it. This is the life.”
“That’s for sure,” Eric chimed in, running his hand through his scruffy brown curls. Riley shook his head at the three as he unlocked his car doors and shouted:
“Pile in! Time for some grub, man!” It was Addie’s turn to laugh at her favorite boys. They each got into the car, Riley driving and Addie in the passenger’s seat. She turned on the radio, tuning it to their favorite station, WXTJ 99.4. Yes, it was only their favorite because they were the first station to play their song, “Lift Me Down,” in Chicago. Besides that, 99.4 wasn’t the best. It was filled with has-beens and sell-outs, though they did occasionally play something decent. Unfortunately, now was not one of those times.
“Seriously!? Addie, change it. Does anybody even listen to those guys anymore?” Eric shouted, annoyed.
“Chill, I’ll change it,” she half-whispered back, enlightening Eric as to the volume of his voice.
“Sorry. I just hate sell-outs, you know?”
“We get it. That’s why we’re never going down that road,” Carter added, rubbing his fist into Eric’s forehead. Addison found a station that seemed to satisfy them all. Eric, Carter, and Riley were banging their heads while Addie sung along to the lyrics of their favorite band, Guns ‘n Roses. It was moments like these that she was really glad they formed this band. Nobody else would get their obsessions. Riley pulled up at McDonald’s: the usual spot. The group got out, slammed their doors shut, then raced each other for the first spot in line. Addie couldn’t help but want to join them, but held back when she sensed her phone vibrating in her pocket.
“Hello?”
“Addison DuPre. This is your manager.”
“Oh hi, Gary,” Addie wondered why he sounded so hostile; “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is that I’m listening to the initial cuts of the album, and it’s horrible.”
“Wha—”
“No, don’t talk, listen. I told you to make a pop-rock album. Not a punk-emo album. Pop-rock. I have no idea what you were thinking! This is your band: your responsibility. Get back to the studio.”
“What do you mean!? That’s as pop-rock as we get, Gar!”
“Let’s get this straight, you get as pop rock as I say you get, do you hear me?”
“Yes, I hear you, but I can’t say that I agree with you.”
“Too bad your opinion doesn’t count. Make my album or you won’t make any album at all.” He hung up. Addison kicked the car.
“Damn it!” She shouted as Riley stepped out the double doors and onto the curb.
“Addison, what’s wrong?”
“Gary’s scrapping it.”
“Scrapping what?”
“The album, you moron! He’s scrapping our album.”
“What!? Why!?”
“It’s too punk,” she rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s too punk for him, he’s so mainstream! We’re screwed, Riles.” He approached her, looking directly into her eyes.
“So what exactly did he say?”
“That we re-record or lose the album?”
“That’s not so bad, Addie. We’ll just re-record.”
“I’m not selling out.”
“It isn’t selling out.”
“Yes, Riley, it is.”
“Well it’s all we’ve got.”
“Then we don’t have crap.” She began to walk away.
“Just think about it, Addison. You don’t want to lose everything we have, do you?”
“We lose it both ways.”
“No, Addie! We don’t. We could get it back after this album if we keep our record deal. Think about it, Addie. We got lucky. If we quit now we might never get the chance to make another record ever again. Just think about it.”
“No, thanks. I’m leaving.”
“To go where?”
“The apartment. I’ll see you when you get home.”
“Ok, Addie. Just promise me you’ll think about it.”
“I will. Now go get yourself a milkshake.”
“I’ll see you later Addison.”
“Bye.” She shook her head and turned away, hailing a cab to take her away.
In her heart, Addison knew this was the moment; this was when they were going to choose which path to take. And, for a moment, she wanted to walk away. She wanted to go to college, do something productive, and stop with the music. She knew, however that this was just an excuse. She knew she was telling herself this rather than admitting to herself the selfish truth; she wanted Riley back. Addie missed the unspoken understanding that they shared and the way he always knew what to say. She missed the times they’d simply lay on the grass in silence, for hours, and never need to say a word. And, though she didn’t yet realize it, she mostly missed the way her head fit upon his shoulder when they hugged, or danced, or cried together: she missed hearing him tell her everything would be okay.
She knew Riley was right. She knew he was right, but the last thing she wanted was to be a sellout. Carter would go along with Riley; he was still dying for the limelight. Eric was a different story. If she was in, he would be. If she stayed out, he’d be the last person to stop resisting. Eric had always had a soft spot for Addison and would easily listen if she decided to stay true to her gut. The city passed her by and she knew she didn’t want to stay here forever either. She wanted Hollywood. Her fingers dialed Riley’s number naturally and he picked up after one ring.
“I’m in.” And that was all she needed to say.
Several months later, the group was on tour singing the same songs they’d originally recorded, only now with a pop-electronic background track. After finishing each set, the group got together backstage for some drinks and a meet and greet with dedicated fans It was July 17th and Race You for It was finishing up their west coast tour in San Diego. They’d be flying for New York the next morning but now was their last time for a California party. Only four fans were waiting for them as they came offstage: three girls and a boy who looked as if he’d been dragged along for the ride. Addison approached them quickly so that she could give whatever autographs and get to the after party. The first girl came up to her, squealing.
“Oh my god! Addison DuPre! Can I please have your autograph?” She dragged out the please into three syllables.
“Sure hun, who do I make it out to?” Addison replied, taking the poster from the fan-girl.
“Rachel! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Here you go.” The next girl came up to her after getting Carter to take a picture with her. Addie wondered whether the female attention was getting to his head. She rolled her eyes; of course it did.
“Hi, can you sign this?”
“Sure, what’s your name?”
“Elizabeth.”
“To, Elizabeth. Here you go!”
“Thanks.” Addison looked around for the last girl only to find her sulking in a Race You for It t-shirt on the side. She walked up to her. “Do you want anything signed?”
“No. Why would I want you to sign anything!?”
“I don’t know. Why are you here if you don’t?”
“I thought you guys were better than that.” She murmured.
“Better than what?”
“Better than being sellouts.” She walked away. Though Addison knew there was truth to that statement, it still shocked her to hear it from someone else: a fan, no less.
“Seriously!?” Addie tried to forget about it, “whatever.”
“What happened?” Riley asked.
“Bitch called us sellouts.”
“Oh, don’t let it bother you, Addie. It’s no big deal, the next album will be better.”
“Yeah, I just hope we don’t lose all our real fans by then.”
“We’ll get ‘em back, Addie. No big.”
“I really hope you’re right, Riley. I really do.” Addison left the room to get her stuff from the side of the stage. There was a time when Riley’s statement might’ve comforted her; it saddened her to realize even that was gone. She picked up her wallet and jacket, beginning to walk out the back when she spotted Carter talking to a man in a suit. She saw he had a media pass and as she got closer she recognized the letters MTV. What did MTV want with Carter? Her jealousy piqued quickly before she heard him call her name.
“Addie!” He called her over motioning with his hand. “Come here! Mr. Medina has something to tell us.”
“Should I get Eric and Riley?”
“No, this is fine,” the man she presumed was Mr. Medina cut in. “I’m Larry Medina from MTV and I’m here to tell you guys that you’ve been invited to perform live on TRL.”
“Really? TRL wants us?” Addie replied in disbelief. Total Request Live. That’s epic.
“Really. Are you in?”
“For sure!” Carter shouted before Addison had the chance to reconsider. “When?”
“September 6th.”
“We’ll be there!” Carter exclaimed, too excited for his own good.
“Wonderful. I’ll be in touch.” Mr. Medina shook both of their hands before walking away. As soon as he was out of earshot, Addie allowed herself to process the magnitude of what was happening. It was strange to think of Race You For It on TRL. Most of the bands on there were totally pop artists.
“TRL?”
“Yeah, Addie! Why aren’t you excited? This could be our big break.”
“TRL is a pop show.”
“That doesn’t mean anything!”
“We’ll see.” This didn’t sit right with her, but she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of being on MTV. Years ago, Riley would come over and they’d switch the television in Addie’s bedroom to channel 16. They’d watch music videos and reality shows for hours until it was time for dinner. Those moments together hadn’t meant anything back then but now Addison realized how much more she should’ve cherished such moments. It didn’t matter. She could only move forward.
On September 5th, Race You for It walked into MTV’s Manhattan studio. Mr. Medina greeted them with a smile, pointing out the performance space where they would rehearse the next day’s set. Their crew set up their microphones and Eric’s drum set while the four band members finalized their set list and tuned the guitars. As soon as they were ready they ran through the music, beginning with new stuff and ending with some older music. It felt good to them but Mr. Medina seemed to be the only one applauding throughout the studio.
“Good job you four; I only have one change to request. Do you mind doing me a favor and scrapping that last song.”
“What?” Riley raised his voice.
“I’m sorry, but it has to go. It’s totally wrong for our audience.”
“We always close with Lift Me Down!” He was shouting now.
“It’s non-negotiable.”
“I don’t think you understand, Mr. Medina; we do it our way or we don’t do it at all.” Addie stepped in.
“Then I guess we should call the back-up band.” He replied.
“No! No, wait!” Carter shouted. “We’ll do it.”
“What!?” Eric exclaimed.
“No, we won’t.” Riley added.
“Guys! Guys this might be our only shot.” Carter whispered, pulling his three friends aside. “This is TRL! We have to do it.”
“Go ahead, but if you do, I’m out.” Riley replied through clenched lips.
“What do you mean?” Addie jumped at his words.
“Addie, if we do this, there’s no going back. I don’t want to do this anymore. I mean, who are we kidding? This isn’t us.”
“You can’t do this, Riles. Carter’s right. This is TRL. We can scrap Lift Me Down.” She repeated the last sentence aside to Mr. Medina.
“Great! Then I guess I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
“Not all,” Riley said, “Have a nice life.” He shouted at his former band-mates and stormed off.
“Wait, Riley!” Addie screamed, but he was already gone.
Their gig on TRL was a definite success, but they were forced to use Riley’s recorded bass tracks. It didn’t feel right to Addison. She didn’t like playing without him. She didn’t like that when she looked back where Riley should have been, there was no one there to give her a reassuring smile. It wasn’t until then that Addie understood how deep this cut would be. However hard she tried, she couldn’t ignore the empty space.
They were back in the studio only a month later with a new, egotistical bassist who was only in it for the fame. As a group, they just finished tracking their new single and Gary called them into the studio to hear the mixed version. It started sounding fine until Addie realized that Eric’s drum track had been replaced by an electronic click track. When it was finished, he was beet red.
“What the hell!? Where’s my track!?”
“Oh, we took it out,” Gary replied, “it sounded terrible with the rest of the electronics we threw in.”
“That’s crap. I’m leaving. Riley had the right idea, getting out while we still had a shred of our old image. Good luck finding a new drummer.”
“Eric, stop!” Addison shouted.
“No, Addie. You let this go too far and I’m done with it.” He walked out the door.
“Good,” Gary interrupted, “You didn’t need him anyway. He doesn’t fit your sound.”
“No. He doesn’t fit your sound, Gary.”
“My sound is your sound, Miss DuPre. Don’t forget that.” And Addie never did.
When Eric walked out of the studio, Addison let her mind drift to Riley, if only for a day or two. They’d been apart for so long and she wondered what he would say if she called him. She decided, however, that doing so would only bring her pain. She didn’t understand that he would’ve forgiven her. She didn’t realize that his friendship, and his love, were unconditional.
One month later, Carter and Addie had thanksgiving dinner with her parents in Cleveland. While there, Carter suggested they visit the rock and roll hall of fame.
“Wow. This is incredible Addie,” Carter remarked. “You know, this could be us someday.”
“What? No, it couldn’t!”
“Huh? Why not?”
“We’re not a rock group.”
“What do you mean, we’re not a rock group?”
“Have you listened to any of our music? None of that classifies as rock. Even on iTunes we’re considered pop!”
“Yeah, but still. We’ve always been a rock group.”
“Carter, face it. We sold out.”
“What!? No, we didn’t.” He laughed.
“Yeah, Carter, we did.”
“You’re crazy, let’s go home.”
“Whatever you say.” She rolled her eyes, unable to comprehend how he could be so oblivious. Then again, how could she just let him get away with such ignorance? How could he not realize that they sold out not only on their music but on Eric and Riley? How could he not see what they had become?
At dinner, Addison’s mother asked her daughter the one question she’d been avoiding. She asked the one question Addison couldn’t fully face herself. “Sweetheart,” she said, “whatever happened to Eric and Riley?” Addie was hesitant.
“What do you mean, mom?”
“Why did they leave the band?”
“It’s complicated, Mom. Why?”
“It just doesn’t make sense, honey. You and Riley were inseparable for years. I think he might’ve been in love with you.” Addison nearly laughed. She couldn’t be serious.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on Addison. You can’t tell me you never noticed the way he looked at you.”
“What way?” Addie tried to picture it but it had been so long since she’d seen his face.
“Like you were his everything, dear. What happened between you?”
“He just left the band is all.”
“It couldn’t just be that! He loved you. He wouldn’t just leave because of the band.” Addison stared out the window, processing her mother’s every word. She couldn’t be right, could she? Addie would’ve noticed. She couldn’t have missed something like that. But her mom was right. Why would he just leave over cutting Lift Me Down from the set, anyway? It didn’t make sense. She looked at Carter and saw the agreement in his eyes. There was something more and he knew it too.
“Carter?”
“He loved you, Addie. I can’t believe you didn’t see it!”
“And that’s why he left?”
“Why else would he bail on everything he’s ever known, Addie? It was more than just the song.”
“And now I’ve lost him.” It was in that moment that Addison understood the gravity of losing Riley’s friendship. He loved her. And it took until then for her to realize that she loved him. It was clear now, as Addison scanned her memories for hints of a love she missed. And the love she’d lost. She wished she could take it all back. Everything that had happened since forming the band was now tainted by the shadow Riley’s absence cast upon Addison’s perspective of her past. Every moment wasted on a life that would never lead to happiness; all because she let him go.
Addie got up from the table and walked out the door onto the front porch. Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
“Hello?”
“Miss Dupre. It’s Gary. I have some good news.”
“Thank god, what is it?”
“I put in an application to make you a solo artist and it’s been approved.”
“Solo?” She was astonished.
“Yes, Addison. Solo. All you have to do is tell Carter that he’s been cut from the contract.”
“No! Why!? Carter’s all I have left.”
“He should understand; your career is more important than keeping him happy.”
“Solo?”
“Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted; the fame of a solo artist?”
“No.”
“Don’t pretend, Addison. All you’ve ever wanted is fame.”
“That isn’t true.”
“If that wasn’t true, you’d still be in Chicago playing small venues with Carter, Eric, and Riley. But you’re not, are you Miss DuPre?”
“That wasn’t my fault!” Tears fell upon her burning cheeks.
“What do you mean, wasn’t your fault?” He sneered. “You chose fame every time, why would this time be any different?”