Chapter Five

"Istill can't believe your answer to this whole thing was to ask him to tour with me and I don't get a say," I huff as I cross my arms over my chest and stomp my foot causing an echo throughout the empty room.

We decided to meet this Archer guy privately in one of the backrooms of the venue I was playing at tonight. I tried my best to stop it from happening, but no one would listen to me. Even Willow turned on me in the end.

"We've been over this. The fans love him. So many of YOUR fans love his song. It makes sense for you guys to team up together. It'll be beneficial for you both," Stephen tries to reason.

"I get what you're saying, but I still don't like it," I pout.

"Well, you don't have to like it. You just have to do it," Stephen says matter of fact.

"I thought this was my career. I thought I made the decisions on what happens with it," I retort, staring him down.

I'm not really mad at him, I'm just annoyed that everyone made the call without me, and I'm just expected to go along with it whether I want to or not.

"You do. But you also hired me as your manager to help make good calls for that career and this is one of those good calls," Stephen answers smugly.

I just glare at him, unwilling to concede, but knowing he made a really good point. One that I can't really argue with.

"Fine. Fine. I'll do it," I shout, throwing my hands up into the air, "but I will not fake being happy about it. I'm not going to slap on some massive smile and welcome this guy with open arms."

"That's my girl," Stephen says as he laughs and checks the watch on his wrist.

We hear voices in the hallway right outside the door.

I point to the door. "See, look, he's already late. He's going to be one of those newbies who thinks he's more important than he actually is, isn't he?" I flip my hair over my shoulder in annoyance.

"Actually, Ali, he's early," Stephen laughs.

"Well . . . still . . ." I roll my eyes and turn towards the door as two people walk in.

I recognize him the instant I see him. He's tall, definitely taller than I had thought he'd be. He has shorter dark brown hair and sea green eyes that sparkle in the light. He holds himself with an air of confidence, but manages to also come off as shy at the same time. I narrow my eyes at him. He's cute. He's actually more than cute, but I'm not going to let that mess with my head. He's my enemy here.

Get it together, Ali, he's not your enemy. He isn't doing anything to you. How about nemesis? He's my nemesis . . . that I'm being forced to share the stage with. I like the sound of that.

"Hi, I'm Archer Stiles," the guy says as he lifts his hand up to me.

I pause for a second looking down at it, debating if I want to actually shake it. I eventually cave.

"Hi, I'm Al?—"

"Alison Quick. Believe me, I know," Archer cuts me off.

I pause, staring at him. Then I quickly turn around to Stephen.

"Nope, not doing this. Sorry, I tried," I state as I turn and sit on the couch, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm sorry?" Archer says, clearly confused.

"It's fine," Stephen responds. "She's just a little upset right now. Let's talk."

I'm tempted to jump in and tell him exactly how I'm feeling. Upset is a massive understatement, but then I think better of it. I am a little bit curious to see how this conversation goes. To see what Archer has to say for himself.

"So, we wanted to start off by saying that we saw the video that you posted of your new song. The one that's a response to one of Alison's songs," Stephen starts.

"About that. I just thought that—" Archer starts to defend himself.

Good, he knows he did wrong. He knows that he totally messed up the story behind my song. That he took all of my hard work and tried to negate the whole meaning behind it.

Maybe this whole conversation will end up going my way. Instead of touring with him, maybe he'll take his song down and vow to never write a song like that again.

"No, it's fine. We wanted to start by saying that we?—"

"Hated it," I finish for Stephen.

Archer's eyebrows go up in shock.

"No. No we didn't," Stephen says as he looks over at me, a warning in his eyes. I shrug and mouth the word ‘what.' "We actually loved it."

Archer looks shocked once again. "Oh, um . . . thank you."

I roll my eyes.

Listen, deep down, I know I'm being a brat, but I can't help it. I'm so annoyed with this guy and the whole situation.

"Do you have any other songs?" Stephen asks, not even trying to hide the hope in his voice.

"Umm, yeah, I do. I haven't posted all of them. I only have that one viral video. I'm not sure how good the rest of them are," Archer says, uncertainty in his voice. Now his lack of confidence is starting to annoy me. Dude, stand behind your music.

"Do you have any more that are responses to Alison's songs?" Stephen questions.

Archer looks at me before he answers. He keeps his gaze on me as he responds. "Yeah, but not any that anyone has heard."

"How many?" I ask.

"What?" Archer responds, a little startled.

"How many songs do you have that are responses to mine?" I ask again.

"A few."

I roll my eyes. "And what's a few?"

"I'm not sure off the top of my head," Archer's voice shakes a little as he answers.

"How do you not know how many songs you've written about my songs? That's ridiculous. Maybe you'd know how many you wrote if you actually kept your nose out of my music and wrote about your own topics instead of trying to ruin my stories." I curl my lip, and continue to glare at him, refusing to be the first to break eye contact.

Archer stares at me, his mouth slightly open as he processes what I said.

Ha, I got him now. There's no coming back from that. Good, he can leave here with his tail between his legs.

"Well . . ." Archer starts, taking a slight pause before continuing. "Maybe you shouldn't assume you know why I write the songs that I write. And maybe if your songs weren't so clearly one-sided, I wouldn't find the need to write the other person's side."

My mouth drops open.