“Do you realize that the entire time you’ve been asking me to do this you never even said the word please? And that’s the thing with you, Neil. You’re so spoiled that you expect everyone to do anything you ask because you have money, or you feel like you have some kind of right to the people around you. You’re asking me to do this huge thing for you, to lie for you, and you never even once said the word please.” Wyatt stands up, grabbing the economics book that was open on his desk and sliding it into his backpack. “The answer is still no.”

“Listen, I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you. You’re right, I’ve been a shitty person.”

Wyatt shuts me up by holding up his hand. “Forget it.”

He’s walking away from me; this opportunity is slipping from between my fingers. Maybe if I had more time to think about it, I could find an alternative, but the flight is in less than twenty-four hours. We’re running out of time here.

“Wyatt!” I grab for his hand, and he stops.

His palms are warm, and I can feel his pulse in his wrist. Wyatt stops in his tracks and stares down at our hands. I look around the room for anything that I can use, anything that I can do to get him to stop.

The guitar.

Then it clicks.

“I’ll get you an audition with my brother!”

Wyatt stops.

Got him.

At least for the next few seconds.

“What?”

“My brother, he’s an executive at Periscope Records. One of his duties is finding new talent to sign. I’ll get you an audition with him.”

Wyatt blows a raspberry. “You’re full of shit.”

“No, look!” I grab my phone, going right to Instagram and typing in Michael’s name. Right there, in his bio, Periscope Records. Then there are photos and photos of him with singers, both artists who are with Periscope and artists who aren’t, him at awards shows, the Grammys, the recording studio. And there, a few pics down, is one of us both at the last Christmas at Mom’s house.

“See, that’s my brother! It’s his wedding that we’re going to. You come with me, and I’ll talk to him. I’ll get you an audition with a record label.”

Wyatt pauses, biting at the inside of his cheek. “What makes you think that I want that?”