Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“We’re not selling scandal,” Justin warned.
“We need to sell something. It’s not enough to tolerate each other. Look, I hate to admit it, but I think I’ve spent so much time planning tours and worrying about distribution that I’ve been lax about building a mystery.”
“What kind of mystery?” I asked.
“A social media mystery! Perception matters…almost as much as actual content on the interweb. Do you have any idea how many horrible acts get airtime based on bad behavior alone? I’m not just talking about musicians. YouTubers and Instagram hotties don’t have to be talented or particularly smart. They just have to be savvy. I know this guy, Trent Dover…he’s reasonably attractive, but I have more talent in my pinky finger than he has and let’s face it, I’m the most untalented person you’ll ever meet!” Charlie set his hands on his hips and sucked in a breath to continue his tirade. “Trent is the kind of guy who—”
“Hold up, Char.” Justin furrowed his brow. “What does this have to do with…anything?”
“I’m telling you a cautionary tale about why social media currency matters. Trent’s story is a good example. That douche canoe gets into the most elite bars and nightclubs with a smile and nothing else. He also gets VIP access and red-carpet treatment almost everywhere in LA, including the fucking IHOP on Sunset. And I bet you his barista never forgets his order. Why? Because he has a blue check next to his name and over one million followers. He’s an expert at getting attention and keeping it by opening his life to the masses. He tells his viewers what he ate for breakfast, what designer brand shirt he’s planning on wearing, and then he gives a little side story about which of his glamorous LA friends he’s meeting for lunch.”
“That’s stupid,” I huffed.
“Well, he’s laughing all the way to the bank. He knows what his audience wants, and he gives it to them. I was just like that guy two years ago. Except I was an adorable twink with zero douche factor. I can’t forget where I came from. We signed Jealousy on because they had a built-in connection to Zero—oh, and because you’re fabulous,” Charlie quickly added, patting my shoulder. “The problem is that we haven’t exploited the connection. We aren’t telling a story. We’re…gasp…boring. Ugh. There’s nothing worse than being boring. We can’t go on like this.”
Justin narrowed his gaze suspiciously. “And what do you propose?”
“More band interaction.” He pulled out his phone and snapped a quick pic. “I’ll post this on social media.”
“Whoa. Let me see that.” Justin gestured for Charlie to hand over his cell. He scrolled through a few pics and chuckled. “These are all of Ky, your cat…and coffee.”
Ky snickered. “I hope those are rated PG.”
“Of course they are,” Charlie assured him. “Your ass is perfect, but I don’t want anyone else to see it. Which brings up a good point. Keep it clean. Take pics of your favorite cocktails, pets, snacks, your significant others, your best friends. Things that make you accessible to the public.”
“Haven’t we been doing that?” I asked.
“No, I’ve been remiss. I tried to respect the newness here and the fact that you don’t play nicely with your toys. But perhaps Cade’s injury is a blessing in disguise. Tegan will work with Jealousy, we’ll take photos and a teaser video clip, and release them over the next couple of weeks before the distribution party at The London. A little something to create a buzz. But let’s keep it wholesome.”
“Define wholesome,” Bobby J requested.
“Things you don’t mind your ninety-year-old grandmother seeing. Pet a fucking puppy, for crying out loud! No sex, drugs, or scandals…other than the one we already know about.”
“What scandal? We’re kind of in the dark,” Gill said.
Charlie narrowed his gaze. “The Gypsy Coma scandal. Have you been living under a rock for three years? How don’t you know?”
“Because we agreed to leave the past out of this,” I reminded him sharply.
“Sure, but that’s googleable info.” Charlie cast an irritated glance between Justin and me before blurting, “Dec and Xena, Justin’s ex…who’s also a vampire in disguise, walked in on Justin and Tegan doing the nasty and—”
“Jesus, Charlie!” Justin smacked his hand on the table.
“What? It’s not a secret! Xena made sure of it. She told a few bloggers about it and used the attention to start a new band…with Declan.”
“I found the post.” Bobby J tapped his cell then cleared his throat dramatically and read, “Another Band Bites the Dust…”
I tuned him out. I didn’t need to listen to this again—at this point, I had it memorized anyway.
LA indie band Gypsy Coma has officially called it quits due to acrimonious infighting and infidelity. And they’re airing all their dirty laundry in the process. So what happened? According to a reliable source, lead singer, Xena Smith, and her boyfriend, guitarist Justin Cuevas, broke up after Xena caught him in bed with their drummer, Tegan Monroe. Apparently, she was with her friend and fellow musician, Declan McNamara, who may or may not have had a fling with Justin pre-Xena. Or Tegan. Was it a setup? Oh, the drama!