1 Chapter 1: Holding On To Yesterday

Duke Chambers woke up when he felt like it. He was only 20, but he’d earned his place at the top of the rock star heap. Fame had awarded him many privileges and this was his favorite. Every night he'd turn off his phone: no matter what. He'd grown tired of the groupies, the roadies, the managers, hangers-on, and every other form of leach that had attached itself to his meteoric rise to music fame. So he shut them out eight hours out of every day.

He'd barely reached the bathroom sink, after yawning at his phone, before the alarms and alerts started chirping and chiming. This was his everyday routine but today would throw everything off.

Duke picked up the electronic demon and gazed at the screen. Fifteen messages plagued his phone: All but one from his manager. The other was his publicist. None of it was good news, not as Duke saw it. He dialed his manager and stared into the mirror. Byron's voice cut through the silence.

"Duke! Why haven't you called? I've been trying to get you on this..."

"Phone was off."

“What have I said about turning…”

Duke hung up and stared back at himself. Of his many admirers, he was by far his favorite and most loyal. He loved Duke Chambers and everything his image stood for.

His phone lit up again.

"Yup.”

Duke could sense the sweat dripping down Byron’s bald head. Could feel his clenched fists. He knew just how to push his buttons.

“Listen, stud. You wanna be a prick, go ahead, but remember who butters your bread and put you in that driver’s seat. Square?”

Duke was listening but heard very little of his manager’s voice. It was too early to be this serious.

“You get me that talk show appearance yet?” Duke asked as he stroked his hair.

“Talk show can wait, stud, we got more on our plate now. Did you read any of my messages?”

“Too early. What’s with the talk show? Thought that was a lock.”

“Maybe you’ve noticed, Duke my boy, talk shows are for those hungry on the rise and those resting on top.”

Duke attempted to sound concerned.

“Yeah. So we get it or not?”

“No. They booked someone else. They booked the top female artist with the number one single.”

“That’s a good one, Byron, but I’ve got the number one…”

“Not anymore, ace. You’ve been bumped from your perch.”

Duke was suddenly interested. His physical vanity was surpassed only by his professional dogma. He grabbed the phone with authority.

“Say that again.”

Byron also knew how to push a few buttons.

“With pleasure. You’re no longer number one on the charts. Maybe you should learn to read once in a while. There’s a new songbird and she just clipped your wings.”

"Who?! What bird?” Duke began to shout.

“Get dressed. Get over here. And don’t take all day,” Byron ordered and hung up.

Duke stared down at the phone. He waited. Byron would call back. He would call back and laugh at the joke. Right? He was joking. Right? Duke’s mind raced about the wild possibility that he had actually been bumped from his comfortable number one spot. He stared at himself in the mirror again. He even considered shaving, then chose to merely brush his teeth instead.

Byron’s office was the nerve center of Duke Chambers Inc. Anything relevant to Duke’s success still flowed through Byron and his small army of publicity warriors: this put Byron and Duke at odds on a semi-regular basis. When Duke arrived that morning he told himself all was still well.

“Hey, where’s Tanya? She wasn’t at her desk when I came in,” Duke asked of his manager as he breezed into the office.

“Running down info over at Capital,” Byron responded without ever looking up. “Nice that you could join us.”

“I was driving by. Saw the light was on. So what’s all this really about?” asked Duke as he plopped into the massive leather loveseat across from Byron’s desk.

Byron set his phone down and cleared the papers away from the stack in front of him.

“Glad you asked.”

He reached down, opened a drawer, and pulled out a glass jar half-full of money, then set the jar square on his desk.

“Two weeks. Love Child spent only two weeks at number one. Not twenty. Not even ten. A measly two.” Byron pushed the jar to the edge of his desk and grinned at his golden boy.

Duke smirked and adjusted himself uncomfortably as though the massive chair was beginning to swallow him. He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a sizeable wad of cash.

“No small bills this time, either. Cramps my style,” Byron said through his wicked smile.

Duke pulled himself up, counting out the bills as he walked toward Byron’s desk, then dropped several hundred into the jar.

“So who is she, this songbird?” asked Duke, dropping the bills one-by-one, “the one perched at the top.”

“Name’s, Crystal Melody. Don’t you read?” he asked, pulling the jar back into his desk drawer.

“And what’s her story? She some wanna-be junior…”

“Tanya’s over at Capital working on that now. Apparently, she used to be a big deal.”

“Used to be?” asked Duke.

“Listen up, stud, I smell opportunity, and right now you are in need of a new opportunity. Love Child dropping on the charts rings like a big-ass problem for you. We don’t have a follow-up single and you know it.”

Duke stood with hands, and his money, still bare.

“So I dropped off the top. We’ll remix…”

“Remix what?” Besides Love Child, there’s nothing else to release. You saw to that when you pushed this whole concept-album idea of yours. There wasn’t even a single until I asked for it.”

“Byron, c’mon, this is nothing.”

“No, this is something, and it’s something you’re gonna do. You’re gonna hook up with this Crystal chick and put something together. You need another hit, and you need it now.”

Duke heard what Byron was saying, but wasn’t in the mood for any of it. He’d gotten used to being really comfortable, and this meeting with Byron was anything but.

“When Tanya gets back”, Byron continued, “you’ll have everything you need to get familiar with this chick. I made some calls and set up a meeting between you and Crystal’s people.”

“Why aren’t you handling that…”

“Because Duke Chambers needs some really hot publicity right now, good or bad, and the vultures will eat up the fact that you personally reached out to this chick. Today.”

“Seriously? I made plans this afternoon. I’ve got…”

“New plans, kiddo. Right now. She and her people are waiting across the street, at The Paradise Café.”

“The Paradise? I hate that place.”

“Tanya will meet you there with everything you need. Just be a rock star, kiddo.”

“The Paradise?” Duke asked again, hoping reality would change if he stalled. “Fifteen minutes. They get fifteen minutes, then I’m outta there.”

Byron locked eyes with him.

“You don’t set up a deal with this chick, and you’re likely to be outta here. Fame’s fleeting, kiddo. Don’t ever forget it. Now move. Clock’s tickin’.”

Duke started backing out of Byron’s office… slowly. His eyes darted about, searching for a helping hand.

“Fifteen minutes,” he said as he disappeared out of the office.