That next morning, JC sat at his island, nursing a cup of coffee while scrolling through his phone. He'd been pleased with his performance the night before and was excited that his original work from Playing with Fire had been well received. Mostly, he was happy about the funds being raised to help young artists. He'd greatly benefited from arts education in his life, and he felt blessed to be in a position to give back to the next generation. Overall, it was a great night, save for one minor inconvenience. Just as he started to replay the interaction from the night before, he was alerted of a new text message.

Podwall

Have you talked to her yet?

As he read the message from his manager, Eric, JC heaved a frustrated sigh. He'd agreed to perform at the Ojai Playwrights Conference for two reasons, and they were to first and foremost, raise money for young artists, and second, to showcase and promote the musical. It was supposed to be a lowkey event, and he didn't want to draw too much attention to himself. It was about the kids, not him. However, his attempts at flying under the radar had proved futile, as almost immediately after the show, he was approached by an A&R rep.

At first, he'd mistakenly assumed she was a fan, wanting a picture. Then it dawned on him that she looked familiar. With her tawny skin, sandy brown hair, light green eyes, and freckles that decorated her face, he knew he'd seen her before, but he couldn't quite place her. It wasn't until she formally introduced herself, that he'd realized she was Rashaad Hamilton's party, and he'd seen her around over the years at various events and industry parties.

"Hi," she greeted, extending her hand. "I'm Berkeley Wright Hamilton, A&R manager for Worldwide Records."

"Hi," he'd replied, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"JC, that was a phenomenal performance," she said. "Would you be interested in meeting with me?"

She was polite, yet direct, not beating around the bush. JC had received numerous offers over the years from different labels, but none that interested him. However, he was quite taken aback in the moment, as he hadn't expected for performance to garner much attention. "I- thank you. I appreciate that, I really do. But I'm not looking for a record deal."

Her face faltered for a second, but she remained undeterred. "I understand. I'm not asking for an immediate answer, but I at least want to give you my card," she told him.

He watched as she dug around in her purse, before pulling out a business card. "Just think about it and call me. Even if it is a no."

Before he could respond, she'd walked away, disappearing into the crowd. "That is Rashaad Hamilton's daughter!" Eric exclaimed, walking up to JC. "What did she say?"

"She's an A&R rep," JC said.

"Dude, I know that!" Eric replied. "What did she say?"

JC handed the card over to Eric. "She gave me her card, she wants to set up a meeting."

A few minutes after receiving the text, JC's phone rang, and Eric's name appeared on the screen. He hit the answer icon, and before he could even say hello, Eric had already started in.

"JC-"

"Eric-" JC cut him off. "Before you even start, we've already discussed this. I'm not interested."

"Worldwide Records. This could be huge," said Eric. "This could be it. This could be your chance at a comeback!"

JC sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He was already done with this conversation. "I already told you, Eric. I'm not looking for a comeback. I like my life the way it is. I'm financially comfortable, and I'm content. I just wanna music, and that's it."

"You're killin' me here Jace," Eric sighed.

JC could practically see him with his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, Eric." He wasn't. "But I'm gonna have to pass on this."

"Fine," Eric conceded. "I'll drop it."

"Thank you," JC replied.

"Well, in other news, Red Velvet's management reached out to me. They're recording a new album and they really want you to write and produce for them," Eric informed him.

"Okay, sounds great," JC perked up. Behind the scenes is where he thrived, and over the last few years he'd really found his niche in writing and producing for K-Pop and J-Pop groups. It was a specific sound that he really enjoyed tapping into. "Set up a meeting with their management team."

"You know, while you're writing for them, it wouldn't hurt to write for yourself," Eric urged.

JC rolled his eyes. "I am writing for myself. Does last night ring a bell?"

"You know what I mean," Eric said.

"Let it go Eric," JC begged.

"Fine, fine!" Eric relented. "I won't say another word about it."

"Finally, thank you." JC replied.

 "But I will say that JC Chasez- you- are one stubborn motherfucker!"

*~*~*~*~*

Meanwhile, across town, Berkeley sat in a meeting listening to her boss discuss plans for their current roster of artists and concept ideas for the remainder of the year and going into January. While Ethan continued to give his presentation, Berkeley did her best to pay attention, though it proved to be too difficult a task, when she was constantly checking her phone and email, making sure she hadn't missed JC. She couldn't stop thinking about the events of the previous night, and just how incredible JC's performance was. He had such an indescribable quality that she couldn't quite understand how she felt about it. Simply put, he had it, and she'd made up her mind that her number one goal was to get him signed.

"Burke!"

Ethan's voice cut through her thoughts, startling her to attention. "Sorry!" She blushed. "What?"

"An update," Ethan repeated. "Can you give us an update on new talent."

"Oh, sure!" She scrambled, opening up her iPad pro. She could practically feel her skin burning under everyone's gaze. Despite having been at the label for almost fourteen years, she was always paranoid that everyone thought she was just another nepotism hire, with no actual skill or discernment for talent. And she was sure that spacing out in front of the boss did nothing to help dispel those assumptions. "I came across a really interesting girl on TikTok," she said as she opened the app. "Her name is Ellie Jay and she's got a hundred thousand followers, 1.2 million likes, her views and likes are decent, and she's got pretty good engagement. But most importantly, she's talented! She's seventeen, and she writes and produces her own music. She's already released a few singles on Spotify and Soundcloud. She's unsigned and doesn't have a manager."

Berkeley slid her iPad across the table for Ethan to see. She watched as he picked it up and scrolled through the TikTok page. She was an anxious bundle of nerves, watching his face as he perused through the page. He finally selected a clip, and the notes of an acoustic guitar poured out into the room, followed by a light and sweet, yet earthy voice.

"No," Ethan said, immediately pausing the video.

"Uh-" Berkeley stammered. "What's wrong with her?"

"Well for one, we don't need another iteration of Jewel. Or Shawn Colvin. Or Natalie Merchant. Or Meredith Brooks. Or Lisa Loeb. Or any of those Lillith Fair artists. It's been done, and besides Taylor Swift has monopoly on the white girl with guitar schtick." Ethan explained. "No one is rivaling Taylor Swift."

Berkeley fought hard not to roll her eyes. "But she's got a hundred thousand followers! There's something there! She has a following!"

"She doesn't have a million," Ethan replied. "And you know better than anybody that a social media following doesn't guarantee streams and sales."

Then why the fuck do you have me scourging social media for acts?! She wanted to scream.

"I'm not risking signing a high schooler from Bumfuck, Idaho for her to flop," Ethan continued.

"She's from Toronto," Berkeley muttered.

"Great! Then let a Canadian label sign her," Ethan said, handing the iPad back to Berkeley. "Alright Asher, give me an update. And please for the love of God, let it be someone we can sign."

Biting her tongue, Berkeley slid her iPad back into its case, and sat back in her chair, not uttering a word for the rest of the meeting.

"Ethan Carmichael is such a dick!" Berkeley fumed. After the meeting, Delaney caught her storming down the hall, and suggested they go out for lunch for some fresh air and a much-needed break from the office. Now, as they sat outside at Salad Farm, Berkely ranted to Delaney about how horrible the meeting had gone.

"Well, you could always report him to your dad," Delaney shrugged.

"Del, you know I won't do that," Berkeley replied before taking a sip of her iced green tea. "People already think I had my job handed to me as it is. I just have to suck it up."

"You know, I think he's harder on you than anyone else because you are the President's daughter, and because he knows how serious you are about your career and your reputation, so he knows you won't say anything," Delaney theorized.

"Dammit, I think you're right," Berkeley sighed. "Do you think I should leave the company?"

Delaney gave her a concerned look. "No! Why would you do that?"

"Because Del, I've been busting my ass since I was sixteen years old. From getting co-op credits in high school for working in the mailroom at Worldwide, to interning in the summers during college, to starting out as a receptionist, and then working my way up to administrative assistant in Digital Marketing and Commerce to finally getting my foot in the door with the A&R division as an assistant, to now, working as an A&R manager. Don't get me wrong, I'm very aware of how privileged I am, and that I already had a leg up in getting my start. But I feel like over the past twenty years, I've tried my best to work my butt off, and not rely too much on my dad. It's just... I love this business so much... well not exactly the business, but I love music. I love artists and discovering them and investing in them. I just wanna be taken seriously. And I want people to know I take my job seriously. And dammit! I wanna be the A&R director!"

"Well... that was a movie worthy monologue," said Delaney. "Like that climactic moment in a coming-of-age story when the main character finally wakes up and realizes her worth!"

"Del-"

"No! Sorry, not trying to make a joke out of this, I swear. "And I totally understand where you're coming from. But, like you said, you have worked your ass off, and I've witnessed it. I don't think you should leave the label, but I do think you should start demanding a little more respect. Just because your dad owns the label, that doesn't mean asking to be respected is you acting entitled. Being respected is literally the bare minimum. For any job."

Berkeley thought for a moment about what Delaney said. She was right. In all of her fourteen years as an employee at Worldwide, she'd never felt respected. Despite the fact that many of the people working there had parents who were high powered entertainment lawyers, and Fortune 500 CEOs, and Grammy and Oscar winning music composers who more often than not got their kids into Ivy Leagues by making hefty donations. She wasn't ignorant to the fact that her dad being the Rashaad Hamilton more than likely played a factor into her getting accepted into Belmont, but she did in fact keep a 4.0 GPA all four years of high school, scored a 1590 on her SATs, made sure to stay involved in many extracurriculars, spent her weekends volunteering, and had a superb audition and admissions essay. She wanted to get accepted to colleges because she was intelligent, well rounded, talented, and a hard worker. Not who her dad was. From an early age she realized that she'd always have to work twice as hard to get half as much as everyone else because 1.) she was black, 2.) she was a woman, and 3.) Having famous and influential parents meant that people would undermine everything she did. And now, she was just so incredibly frustrated and fed up because it felt like no matter what she did, no matter how hard she worked, no matter how many amazing artists she'd discovered and brought to the label, it didn't matter. All of her hard work would always be overshadowed by the fact that her parents are Rashaad Hamilton and Aviva Parker.

"You're right," she finally said. "Respect is the bare minimum. And I should start speaking up for myself." It was ironic because in her personal life, she absolutely had no problem giving people a piece of her mind. But professionally, her initial reaction was to always just grin and bear it. "But I think it's time for me to start planning my next moves."

"You're next moves?" Delaney asked.

Berkeley nodded. "Mmmhmm. I'm actually processing this in real time, but I'm realizing that if I ever want to make a name for myself in this industry, then I can't stay at Worldwide."

Delaney's eyes widened. "You're actually thinking about leaving Worldwide?"

"Yeah," Berkeley replied. "Maybe even LA. I mean, I still have tons of connections in Nashville. And I've always loved New York. I love Worldwide. It's in my blood. But I need to start thinking about longevity. And as long as I stay at Worldwide, I'll forever be in the shadow of my father."

"Wow," Delaney said, letting out a heavy sigh. "I mean I'm gonna miss working with you, but I fully support you. You gotta do what's best for you. Do you have a timeline on when you're thinking of leaving?"

"I don't know," Berkeley answered honestly. "But I do know that I can't leave until I get JC Chasez signed. That'll be my final move. My mic drop moment."

Later that night, Berkeley sat up in with her laptop in her propped up in her lap. She knew she should probably turn off her work brain and relax for the night, but she wouldn't be able to sleep knowing she still had a few emails to get out. When she opened her inbox, she noticed an email with the name Eric Podwall. Eric... Podwall... Eric... Shit! That's JC's manager! As she hovered over the email with her cursor, her heart rate sped up. She'd been waiting to hear back from his management all day! With trembling fingers, she quickly clicked on the email and opened it up.

Dear Miss Hamilton,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing on behalf of JC Chasez. It was a pleasure meeting you last night, and we appreciate your offer. However, I regret to inform you that my client has chosen to decline your offer. Thank you for your time.

Eric Podwall

Berkeley read over the email a few times before it sunk in. JC declined her offer. "Shit!" She shrieked. "Fuck! No!" She couldn't believe it. Well, yes, she could. JC Chasez was a notoriously private person. For years, fans had begged him to release new material of his own, only for him to continue to brush off the fact that he had a dedicated audience, patiently (and not so patiently) waiting to his voice again. However, after watching his performance last night, she'd hoped that maybe this time would be different. She'd hoped that he'd at least entertain the offer. When she asked him to at least think about it before giving her an answer, and she didn't wake up to any emails or phone calls from his camp, she was optimistic that he was really considering it.

JC Chasez had been the golden voice of *Nsync. Yes, all five guys were extremely talented, but JC was exceptional. He had the voice; the most incredible four-octave vocal range. He had the moves; his dance ability was unrivaled, and when he performed, he was simply electric. He had showmanship, star quality, and charisma that couldn't be denied. When he was on a stage, all eyes gravitated to him. Not only that, but he was an artist; he had musicianship. He was a songwriter, producer, composer, and multi-instrumentalist. He was the total package, and it was like there wasn't anything he couldn't do. Hell, he could even act his ass off! And yet, it was like he was determined to remain in the shadows. While he didn't owe anything to anyone, she felt it would be a great tragedy if the world didn't get to experience his talent. After all, he did deserve the praise. He deserved the accolades. And yet, he wanted none of it. The man was an enigma.

Berkeley could understand why he wouldn't want to be famous. The price of fame was costly, and she'd witnessed it her whole life. She understood and respected the fact that he created art for the love pf it, and not for the sake of being famous. But even so, he was too damn talented to just be relegated to the past of teenybop stardom. He deserved better than that.

Drumming her fingers against the side of her laptop, Berkeley thought about how to respond to Eric. After a few minutes, she decided to type out a short and sweet response:

Hi Eric, I appreciate your response, and thank you for letting me know. Just to let you know, if your client changes his mind, my offer still stands. You have my information, and you know how to reach me.

Berkeley Wright Hamilton

She hit send, and offered up a small prayer that the message would be relayed to JC, and that he would consider it further. After checking a few more emails, she closed her laptop, and set it on her nightstand. She couldn't sleep now. No, her mind was now racing, brainstorming ways to she could get JC to agree to meet with her. If there was one thing Berkeley didn't do, it was take ‘no' for an answer. She needed this. And JC needed this, whether he realized it or not. Being the one responsible for orchestrating JC Chasez's big comeback would be a slam dunk for her career, and the win that she needed. And JC having a successful comeback would ensure that he got the appreciation and recognition that he so rightfully deserved. She couldn't just let this go. She had to do this. She would bring JC Chasez back into the spotlight if it was the last thing she did. Berkeley would make sure he got his flowers, or she would die trying. If she had anything to say about it, JC Chasez would not remain unsung. She was going to get justice for JC.