Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“Ugh!” Marina frowns. “Don’t say that name. It’s like you’re summoning the devil or something.”
“I mean, he wasn’t the devil,” I start. “But…he was pretty damn close.”
“Seriously! What kind of asshole forgets to post you on Instagram on your birthday?” she scoffs. “And what kind of even bigger asshole tags another girl in a photo on your birthday, too? Then starts terrible rumors about you when you get pissed off about it.”
“Good old Tommy, I guess.” I chuckle, even though there’s nothing funny about it. Tommy was such an ass, and when I found out about the rumor he was spreading that I was cheating on him, my blood ran cold. So many people were turning on me because of his words. I felt like prey…like a rabbit with a fox, with nowhere to hide. It took me a long time to get out from under that lie, partially because even some of my closer friends believed his nasty stories.
I can’t fully blame them. I was taken in by him for a long time. A narcissist like that can be charming and convincing. Marina never wavered in believing the best of me though. I let a lot of those people who I thought were friends go, and I keep Marina close. Every day I thank heaven I have a true friend like her.
“But it’s whatever,” I say, closing the book on that. “It’s all just more fodder for songwriting, right?”
“Right. Your music.” Marina’s eyes sparkle. “That’s exactly the reason I barged in here. Please tell me that you’ve checked out your Soundcloud in, like, the last five minutes.”
“I haven’t checked my Soundcloud in forever,” I admit. “I threw some of my old music up there forever ago, but it wasn’t like anyone was actually listening to it—”
“Uh, actually, there was someone listening to it,” Marina interrupts. “Have you ever heard of a little account called ‘GeeshaTwentyOne’?”
“GeeshaTwentyOne?” My eyes widen with surprise. “She’s one of the most popular singers out right now! Are you sure?”
“Yep. That’s the one, that’s her,” Marina smirks, as she pulls her phone out of her jacket pocket. She then scrolls through its screen with a perfectly manicured finger before she holds her phone up toward my face. On the screen is Geesha Riley, her black hair tied back in a bun, her signature lensless glasses framing her face and a guitar held close to her chest. A few seconds go by before the video’s audio kicks in, and once it does, I almost let out a primal scream.
Oh my God.
Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.
“Geesha Riley is covering one of my songs,” I mumble, as she continues to play the familiar notes to a song that I wrote a few years ago. “Geesha Riley is seriously covering one of my songs.”
“I always liked ‘Shit Starter,’” Marina muses. “Which, funnily enough, kind of sounds like it could’ve been about Tommy, too.”
“Yeah, no, that one was about Carter,” I correct her. “The jerk who used to get into fights whenever we went out for drinks?”
Marina rolls her eyes before she says, “Jesus, babe. How many of these losers are you going to go out with?”
“Music fodder, remember?” I grin down at the phone screen, delighted to see Geesha playing the full song. “Fuck. I cannot believe this is real, Marina.”
“And she tagged you and everything,” Marina replies. “She listed Soundcloud as your main account.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.” I shake my head. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s cool that she covered the song, and that she even knows that I’m alive, but just covering a song doesn’t mean—”
Marina pulls her phone away from my face, as she brings her fingers back to its screen. A moment or two later, she’s holding the device in front of my face again, nearly pushing it against my nose. And as I look down at the screen, I can’t help but notice the numbers now listed beside each and every track on my Soundcloud account, still increasing even as I’m watching them explode.
Each of my songs on my account currently have no less than a million listens apiece.
The last time I checked, which was about a month ago, my songs hadn’t cracked a thousand listens total.
“…I don’t understand,” I mutter, completely in shock at the situation. “Is this…is any of this really happening right now? Or did I hit my head during my shift at work or something?”
“Of course it’s really happening, Alyssa!” Marina squeals. “I always knew you were going to blow up like this. Your songs are incredible. There’s no way you weren’t ever going to make it this big.”
“I’m not…” My words trail off as I look up at Marina. “I think I might just…need a minute.”
“Wait. What?” Marina’s expression fills with disbelief. “What do you need a minute about, babe? I was thinking we could go out and celebrate over drinks—”