Infinite Rebate System: Beautiful Women And Endless Returns

"Read the contract," xavier said. "The full version. Then talk to a lawyer before the Victoria Hale call."

"Xavier."

"Sarah."

"Are you telling me there’s something in that contract I need to worry about," she said.

He listened to the particular quality of that question. The edge underneath it. The beginning of something she didn’t have full shape of yet.

"I’m telling you to read everything before you sign anything and talk to a lawyer before any industry meeting," he said. "That’s good advice for anyone."

A long pause.

"Okay," she said slowly. "Okay."

"How’s track three coming," he asked.

The subject change landed and she let it. Because she always let it when she didn’t have enough information yet to push.

"Good actually," she said. The studio energy coming back into her voice. "The bridge gave me trouble all week and then yesterday it just... unlocked. You know that feeling."

"Tell me," he said.

And she did. For twenty minutes she talked about the bridge and what unlocked it and what the full track sounded like now and Xavier listened and asked the right questions and the contract conversation sat between them like something that had been placed carefully on a shelf for later.

She’ll read it, he thought. And when she does she’ll see the co-ownership clause. And the recoupment terms. And the holding company name. He looked at the ceiling. And she won’t be able to trace the holding company to me. Not without significant effort.

But she’ll know, he thought. Some part of her will know.

And she’ll have nowhere to go with it.

She sent a message at 11PM that night.

@sarah.torres.official: I read the contract.

Xavier looked at the message.

@sarah.torres.official: the co-ownership clause. The recoupment terms. Xavier this holding company owns part of my masters until I pay back the full production cost.

@sarah.torres.official: $15,000

He didn’t respond immediately.

@sarah.torres.official: Xavier

@sarah.torres.official: do you know who this holding company is

He looked at the messages stacking up. Read them once. Set the phone face down.

She read it, he thought. Found the clause. Found the number. He looked at the ceiling. $15,000 standing between her and her own music.

And she’s asking me if I know who the holding company is.

He picked the phone back up.

Xavier: I told you to talk to a lawyer.

@sarah.torres.official: Xavier that’s not an answer

Xavier: it’s the only one I have tonight. Talk to a lawyer before the Victoria call. Get proper advice on the recoupment terms.

A very long pause.

@sarah.torres.official: okay

@sarah.torres.official: okay Xavier.

He put the phone down.Fuck is wrong with this girl.

Festival first, he thought. Everything else after.

He let the cap cycle naturally without forcing it. Some days he barely touched it. Others he ran it halfway and stopped. The balance climbed slowly and steadily the way water rises. Without announcing itself.

$581,000, he noted. From $520. In under four months. It had been like a milestone he wouldn’t believe even if he saw an impossible thing happening in front of him.

Plenty of time to build after the festival, he thought. Right now the only thing that matters is the next twelve days.

He closed the balance screen and put his phone away.

She called when something happened at the studio worth sharing. He answered when he felt like it and called back when he didn’t. They met at Ardmore Street twice that week. Same café, same outside tables, the place that had become accidentally theirs. She showed him rough mixes on her phone with one earbud in each of their ears and talked about what she was still trying to fix and he listened and said the true thing when she asked for it.

She’s stopped performing at me, he noted. Completely. At some point in the last few weeks the performance just stopped.

That’s the most dangerous version of her, he thought. The real one.

On the Tuesday before the festival she took him somewhere new.

A rooftop on the north side of Kenvale. A friend’s building. She didn’t explain further than that. They took the stairs and came out onto a flat roof with a low wall around the edge and the whole city laid out below them in the late afternoon light.

She sat on the wall with her legs dangling over the edge like height meant nothing to her.

Xavier stood beside her and looked at the city.

Three weeks ago I was sitting in her apartment at 9AM drinking coffee, he thought. Now she’s bringing me to rooftops.

"I used to come here when I was sixteen," she said. "When the school performances weren’t enough and I needed to feel like the city was watching me instead." She looked out at Kenvale spread below them. "Sounds mad when I say it out loud."

"It doesn’t," he said.

She glanced at him. "Most people would say it sounds mad."

"Most people perform sanity," he said. "You just told me a true thing. Those are different."

She looked at him for a moment.

"You do that," she said.

"Do what."

"Make true things sound like they don’t need defending," she said. "Like they’re just allowed to exist."

Xavier said nothing to that.

She looked back at the city.

"The festival is in twelve days," she said.

"I know," he said.

"Victoria Hale called yesterday," she said. "She wants to hear the full EP before the festival. Xavier, she wants to schedule a proper listening session." She paused. "That doesn’t happen. Not for a first year student with four songs recorded."

"It happens when the songs are worth hearing," he said.

She looked at him. "You’re very calm about this."

"One of us should be," he said.

She almost smiled. Looked back at the city.

"Xavier," she said after a moment.

"Sarah."

"The contract," she said. "The holding company." She said it carefully. Like she’d been carrying it and was setting it down to look at it properly. "I talked to a lawyer."

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