“Thanks for that, Cole. It’s nice to hear you all are taking this seriously. Because it was beginning to look like it was a big joke to you,” Tate said sternly. We all shook our heads.

“We take this opportunity very seriously. And we’re thankful you’ve given it to us, “ Jordan interjected.

Tate nodded before continuing. “Look, let’s get to the guts of this meeting. You’ve been called here because of your behavior on the Primal Terror tour. We signed you guys because we saw potential there. You have talent. That’s no secret. But there’s more to making it in this industry than just talent. And your unprofessional attitudes is totally unacceptable.”

He turned to Jordan and the other guys. “I understand you haven’t been happy with the direction of the publicity. Well that’s tough tits, fellas. We plan to market this album how we think is best. What do you have to bring to the table as far as marketing experience?”

Garrett, who was normally impassive, clenched his jaw. “This is our band. We know what works and what doesn’t. We have a pretty good idea of what our fans want. We just want an opportunity to talk about marketing before it’s shoved down our throats. We get that Cole is a great singer. He’s awesome at what he does. But this isn’t a one-man show. And we want the chance to market the band as a band.”

Danvers and Tate seemed to consider what Garrett had to say.

“This is the way it works, guys. You don’t have any say in how things are put out in the press. It’s the name of the game,” Tate looked at me.

“Cole, Jose had told me that you wanted out of your contract. That’s why I’m more than a bit surprised to find out that he’s no longer managing you. He seemed pretty sure of the other opportunities out there for you.”

My bandmates were looking at me but my attention was on Danvers and Tate. “Fuck, Jose,” I spat out, not caring that my use of language perhaps wasn’t appropriate for the setting.

“Like I said, I never gave him permission to talk on my behalf with you about my contract. I have no desire to terminate, nor do I plan to leave the Rejects. My priority is this album and promoting it.”

I chanced a glance at Garrett and he gave me a small nod. Jordan patted my back and Mitch smiled.

It felt good to be back in the fold.

Danvers and Tate seemed pleased but still very serious. “Okay, well that’s good to hear because we’ve already invested a lot into this release. We need to talk about where we go from here. Because what happened on the road was inexcusable. To be asked to leave a major nationwide tour does not make you look good. And it doesn’t make the label look good either. We need to rethink how we’re going to market you and this album in the best possible way. But you need to trust that we’re going to do what we have to in order to ensure you and the album is a success. Can you put your egos aside and let us do that?” Danvers gave each of us a pointed look.

Jordan nodded. “Yeah, we can do that.” The rest of us nodded.

Tate turned to Fiona and Chet. “It doesn’t look like we’re going to need you today. Thanks.” The legal department said their goodbyes and left us to talk about all the ways Generation Rejects were going to take over the world.

After the meeting, we were all left full of the warm fuzzies. I was back with my band. We were doing this together. And even though we still had stuff to sort out, we would get there.

“Maysie and I are planning to stay in the city for a few days. Why don’t you all stay too? I think it would be good for all of us to be away from the shit for awhile,” Jordan suggested.

“I’m not sharing a room with you two. I’ve had to listen to you one too many times as it is,” I replied, grimacing.

“We know you stand outside the door and listen, perv.” Jordan hit me in the back of the head. But it wasn’t done maliciously. It was the sort of joking reserved for friends.

“Let’s do it. I could use a little Big Apple madness,” Garrett said.

Mitch and I agreed.

We met up with Maysie at a tiny café across town. She was relieved when we explained how things had gone down and she had even given me a hug when Jordan told her how I had fired Jose.

“I never liked that guy,” she admitted.

“So what are we going to get in to?” Mitch asked, rubbing his hands together like a lazy Bond villain.

“I don’t know. There’s Broadway. Or Madison Avenue! I’ve always wanted to go to Saks!” Maysie exclaimed. The guys and I exchanged looks.

Then we all grinned. “Let’s go clubbing!” I announced, followed by a riotous cheering from my friends.

Maysie rolled her eyes.

Later that night, after we had checked into a cheap hotel on the Lower East Side, I sat with my phone in my lap, debating whether or not I should call Vivian.

I wanted to call her. I really did. I wanted to tell her everything that had happened.

But at the same time I wasn’t sure I had a right to.

There was a knock on my door and I called out, “Come in!”

Maysie poked her head around the door.

“You busy?” she asked.

I waved her in. “Not at all.”

“I wanted to talk to you in private for a minute without Jordan or the other guys around,” she said, pulling a chair out from the desk in the corner and having a seat.

“I always knew you wanted my body, Mays. You just have to ask and I can make you a very happy woman,” I teased, giving her a wink.