It's a fun show, and I feel the worry about Josh and his parents fall away while I’m on the stage, catching Josh’s grin in the audience every few minutes as he and Wyatt—my piggyback-ride-giving giant, who now comes to most shows—dance.
They stop backstage to give me hugs after our set before they take off, which is why, when I meet Josh on our balconies later, I have major news to drop on him.
“You’re not going to believe what happened after you left,” I tell him.
He turns his chair to face me and settles into his blanket. “Tell me.”
I settle into my own chair facing him. “Turns out that Big Time Records is interested.”
He shoots up straight in his chair. “Big Time Records as in Big Time Records?”
I laugh and nod. It’s a label you say in the same breath with Capitol or Interscope. “They sent an A&R guy. Said he’d been hearing the buzz and now he gets it. Saw us on the Southwest Fest lineup and wants to see how we connect from the festival stage and start talking a deal.”
He clasps his head, his mouth hanging open. “Holy . . . that is major.”
“Right?”
“What are you going to do?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. We don’t have any actual offers yet. Just maybes. Right now, the plan is to deliver the best performance of our lives on that stage and see if either label ponies up.”
“I mean, this is amazing. Not surprising but amazing. But those labels are totally different vibes. Bat Bridge is indie. Big Time is corporate. Deep pockets. Scrappy upstarts. You’re going to have a lot to think about because they’re both going to want you.”
“Maybe,” I say, but the buzzing in my chest knows it’s true even if I’m not saying it out loud. “Guess the guys and I have our research cut out for us.”
“How would you feel about me looking into it?” he says. “I have a lot of practice trawling through legal databases; I could see if either of these companies has pending lawsuits or a legal trail you should know about.”
“What if I say yes but only on the condition that you consider whether you’d want to do this for real. Like work in music law. What do you think?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Sami . . .”
“Just think about it. That’s all. Please?”
“Okay. You drive a hard bargain. Now can I do some investigating on these labels?”
“Knock yourself out. It’d be good to have a lawyer brain on the case. But I’m not paying you.”
“In money.” He waggles his eyebrows in such an exaggerated way that I can see it even in the dim light.
“Ew, Josh.”
That makes him laugh. “Tonight was the best I’ve ever seen you guys, but that’s what I think every time I see you. You’re going to be an unstoppable force by the time you hit the festival stage.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“I mean it.” He sighs. “I wish your mom would come watch you. If she did, I think she’d worry way less when you go full-time.”
“I haven’t decided I’m quitting Sunnyside,” I remind him.
He rests his arms on the railing and settles his chin on top of them. “Haven’t you?”
I bite my lip, trying not to let a premature smile escape, but it does anyway. “I will if we get a deal we can all live with. Or more importantly, live on.”
He grins back. “Then you’re definitely quitting.”
We talk for a bit longer before the chill drives us inside. It’s ten degrees warmer than it was earlier this week, but not quite fifty degrees is still cold.
I rinse out my pink hair dye in the shower, Josh’s words looping through my head.I wish your mom would come watch you. She’d worry less when you go full-time.
