05: Here We Go

"One, two, three, four." Jake quickly did a head count of the McFly boys who were mulling around the third floor of Masquerade Records. He then turned towards James, Charlie, and Matt who were sitting in one of the many chairs and benches that were situated in the lobby. Fletch stood off in the corner, his phone to his ear, head bowed as he talked quietly. "And we have everyone from Busted here. Ok, things are running smoothly and we're—" He twisted his watch towards him, "already ahead of schedule. Great!"

Leaning up against a clear space along the wall, he let out a deep sigh. Before tensing and jumping away when he heard a loud scraping sound and watched a large gold record by Hawk Nelson slide back into place. Putting a hand to his chest, Jake let out a sigh of relief. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he looked around the group again. Expecting Tom, Danny, Dougie, and Harry to stand still for five minutes was pointless. Especially when they had an undetermined amount of waiting in front of them. Despite their ages, they still acted like a bunch of squirmy little kids. But that was something that Jake liked about them so much.

While on the one hand they didn't take themselves seriously, when it came to get down to work, their music always had their undivided attention. For the most part. Kind of. Getting side-tracked was a regular occurrence with them. Even now they would occasionally mill towards each other and strike each other with the bottled water they received upon entering Masquerade Records when they least expected it.

Their social media presence was also a good indicator of the random things they could get up to when they had too much time on their hands. Then again, it wasn't that surprising; contractually, they weren't allowed to give away anything about any new music until a strategically placed time. Fans always wanted to see what they were up to, and McFly gave the fans what they wanted.

He couldn't deny that they put out great music, though.

"Now, if you would all just stop moving," he said more to himself, sounding exhausted and amused all at the same time. "For once."

Like that was going to happen: if there was one thing he knew about this industry, there was a lot of downtime, which meant a lot of time trying to keep yourself entertained. That was never hard for them to do, although Jake did often wonder how they could come up with some of their ideas. On rare occasions he witnessed a game from conception to actualization and he still wondered how they collectively got the wheels turning in their heads to think it was a good idea.

Like the time Dougie got stuck in a rolling stereo rack during a game of hide and seek.

Or the time Danny got stuck in a revolving door.

Or when they all nearly broke their toes playing golf in the dark.

"Ok," he said, reaching for his cell phone, opening his e-mail app. His inbox, filled with hundreds of e-mails, appeared in front of his face. He quickly scanned through his e-mail before he opened the one he was looking for. "Breakfast; check," he quietly read to himself, "studio call-in; check, and meeting at Masquerade Records." Biting down on his bottom lip, he quickly scrolled through the list of places to visit and people to meet in the next couple of days, making sure they were on schedule, and that there was room to swap positions of anything if any problems arose.

Knowing his luck, it was better to be prepared.

His bad luck wasn't too damaging nowadays, but he'd be lying if he had said that there weren't times where he wanted to track Katy down and beg her for her good luck. Who wouldn't want everything in the world to go their way, with no hang ups, and nothing to blindside them? It was a great feeling while it lasted, but it was even better to see Katy have everything go her way. If there was anyone who deserved to be happy, it was her. After years of feeling like she was the odd one out, teased mercilessly by the kids in her class, it was great to see her grow more confident over the years.

"Oh, geeze!" His phone slipped out of his pocket and he scrambled to grab it out of the air before it hit the floor. Clutching his phone to his chest, he practically pet it lovingly, before returning it to his pocket. "Phew, that was close!"

"Oi, Jake!" Harry shouted, waving his arms over his head. "Check this out, mate."

Jake sighed. "You don't have to yell, Harry," he said, purposefully talking in a quiet voice, "we're the only ones here. Keep your voice down."

"Mate, we're not in a library," Harry said with a scoff.

Jake chose not to respond, instead choosing to focus his attention on picking up his "lucky backpack." The last thing he needed was someone called on him for an unattended bag. His backpack didn't have the same charm as his old bag—which had been through many rips and tears and looked to be one loose thread from falling apart—but it was still holding up well.

"What is it exactly I'm looking at?" he asked. Harry wordlessly pointed towards the portraits hung up on the wall.

Between band posters, blown up album covers, and gold and platinum CD placards, performance pictures were hung up on the walls. Singers screaming into microphones, guitarists with hair flying, bassists leaping through the air, drummers twirling their drumsticks. There were some big-name bands he recognized on the walls. And, finally, Jake spotted a few stills of McFly at their hard rock show.

One of Danny with his mouth pressed up against his microphone, one hand pointed high up into the air. One of Dougie in the middle of a spin, fingers plucking at the strings of his bass guitar. One of Tom leaping high into the air, legs tucked underneath him. And one taken from the back of the stage, of McFly's silhouettes juxtaposed against the lights from the stage, the vast crowd in front of them.

"How did I not notice this?" Jake asked, peering at the pictures. He removed his glasses from his face and squinted at the pictures.

"Uh, mate," Dougie said, reaching up a hand to bury his fingers in his hair, "glasses are supposed to help you see."

"I haven't gotten my prescription checked in a bit," Jake replied, tipping his bag off his shoulder. He started looking through his bag. "Ah ha!" He removed his hand, gripping his contacts case in his hand. Clenching the arm of his glasses between his teeth, he removed one contact from the container, placing it against his eye.

"Mate, no offense, but even with your contacts, you couldn't even see a bloody pothole in front of you," Tom commented. He elbowed Danny in the side, grinning. "Practically took a swan dive."

"I tidn't tump," Jake protested before removing his glasses arm from his mouth, placing them atop his head. "I didn't jump into a pothole, I walked into a puddle." His lips twitched. "A very deep puddle."

"It was a pothole."

"Anyway–"

"There was also the time you nearly suffocated yourself trying to flip a mattress," Danny added.

"And, Jake, didn't you also pick up a ten spot with dog crap in it?" Harry asked. "And it stuck to you?"

"OK!"

"Geeze, Jake, we were just asking a question," Dougie said with a grin. "No need to get angry."

"I'm not angry!" Jake replied insisted, staring at the half blurry, half clear image of the band that stood in front of him. He started to put his left contact in. "I just see your point. Gosh darn it!" He watched as his contact fluttered to the ground, briefly reflecting the lights of the airport before it disappeared. "Shoot."

"Aw, rotten luck, mate," Tom commented with a click of his tongue.

"Ok, fan out!" Jake commanded. He spread his arms out to his sides. "Nobody move!"

"Mate, you just told them to fan out," James pointed out from where he was sitting. Matt's cackle broke through the otherwise quietness of the lobby.

Jake rolled his eyes before he dropped to his knees, patting the floor. "Come on, come on, come on," he repeated to himself. He spun in a circle. "Where are you?"

"Uh, maybe we can be of some help, yeah" Charlie suggested to James and Matt, nodding his head in Jake's direction. He gripped the arm rests of his chair and lifted himself to his full 6"4 height. James and Matt followed him over to Jake's side.

"Thanks guys, I appreciate it," Jake said, moving to a crouched position.

The seven boys surrounded Jake and pointed their cell phones towards him. Grunting, Jake closed an eye when all the phones shone a bright light in his face. Flashlights. The boys slowly moved their phones around his body and down his clothing to look for the missing contact.

"Got it!" Tom pointed. "On your trainer."

Jake twisted and, spotting the reflecting piece of plastic, plucked it off his shoe with his finger. "Yes!" He grinned in triumph and carefully balanced it on the pad of his finger. "Gotcha." His smile faded when he realized with a quickly rising sense of horror that all his contact cleaning supplies was back in the hotel. "Shit! I mean—shoot!" He quickly remembered who he was talking to and realized he didn't need to censor himself. "Shit!"

"And this is why I don't bother with contacts," Dougie commented.

"That, and you hate sticking your fingers in your eyes," Harry said, clapping Dougie on the shoulder. "Which seems to be no problem considering where you like sticking your fingers." Dougie merely waggled his eyebrows, smirking.

"Here, mate, just use my water," James suggested, tucking his cell phone back into his pocket. He crossed the room to the chair he abandoned and picked up his bottled water.

Jake stared at the half drink bottle of water before looking into James's eyes. "I am not putting your backwash in my eye," he replied. James shrugged and unscrewed the cap to the bottle before he took a long sip.

"Here," Tom said, handing Jake an unopened bottle of water. "Reckon I was going to save it for later, but you look like you need it most."

"Thanks, Tom," Jake said, taking the bottle of water. He quickly twisted off the cap before carefully setting the contact lens into the palm of his hand. Using the water, he shook any of the dirt off the lens before carefully placing it in his eye. "Ok, ok, we're good. Phew." He stood content for a moment before the pain started. His eyes watered. "Ow, ow, ow, ow." He started fanning at his eye with his hand. "It's burning. It's burning, it's burning."

"Mate, how long has it been since you last saw Katy?" Tom asked. He watched his manager rapidly fan his face with his hands.

"Not long enough apparently," Danny said, deadpan.

Jake made a face at his friends, as he stopped fanning. Tears spilled down his cheeks before he quickly reached into his eye and removed his contact. "Guess I'll just have to go half-blind," he muttered to himself. How ironic. He already felt like that's what they were doing: flying blind. It's how things essentially worked out the first time, too.

Maybe people could say he stalked Mr. Phillips, spent a lot of time trying to figure out his daily schedule to find the perfect time to try and pitch McFly to him. He didn't really know what he was doing at the time, just that he knew he had a great undiscovered band on his hands, and he would do whatever he could to get their foot in the door to the music industry.

The rules may have changed, but the game didn't.

Still, seeing McFly's pictures along the wall with some of the greatest in the business despite everything that happened could only be taken as a good sign. McFly had broken records with how quick they had sold out the Hard Rock show. It certainly did bring a lot of good press to Masquerade Records.

"Ok, ok," Jake said, carefully sliding his glasses and contacts case into his backpack. He clapped his hands together before smoothing down his tie for the umpteenth time. "Let's go, gentlemen. This is a big meeting. Very big. We've got to make this one count and it looks like we're doing it without Ronan until he flies in with everyone else."

A door opened and a woman in a sleeveless blouse and pencil skirt stepped out into the waiting area. "Mr. Phillips will only be a few more moments," she explained, "is there anything else we can help you with while you're waiting? I notice you have some water."

"Hel-lo," Danny said with a grin and wiggle of his eyebrows. He adjusted his collar and took a step towards them, but Jake grabbed onto his arm, pulling him back.

"Keep an eye on him," he said to Tom as he passed him. He snapped his fingers. "Dougie, too."

Tom turned his head to find his friend and spun in a circle before spotting Dougie by the large windows. He pressed his face up against the glass, looking left and right as he gazed out over the bustling city below. James abandoned his seat and stood beside Dougie, retrieving his phone from his pocket to take a picture of the view.

"Riiight," Tom agreed making a finger gun, nodding his head.

"We're doing ok, thank you," Jake said to the woman. God forbid anyone ask for any more water and they had to leave the meeting to go the bathroom. The woman gave a smile and a brief nod of her head before disappearing from the floor. Jake checked his watch again.

"Jake, Jake, Jake, you need to relax," Harry said, grabbing onto Jake's shoulders, starting to massage it. "Phillips was already impressed with us when we first tried to break America, putting our first CD here."

"Which was almost, exactly—" Jake twisted his watch towards him.

"Details," Harry said, waving his hand in the air. "The important thing is that we already had two albums out in the UK at the time, and we've put out even more since then. If he can't find anything he likes from all of that, well then, Mr. Phillips is—"

"A doodie head," Dougie called, turning away from the window

"Exactly." Jake chuckled, shaking his head back and forth. "And James, Matt, and Charlie have some great music in the works. We have fans here in America, Jake, they'll come out to show their support. No worries."

"Yeah, mate, we're just grateful you're giving us this second chance," Danny agreed. "And with some of our mates. It's going to be a good time, anyway."

Jake did have some reservation, but he couldn't help but admire the boys' enthusiasm. They were young, energetic, and did things the way they wanted it to be done. Sure, there was some stipulation here and there from the record labels – like the whole having to put out an album as McBusted – but all in all, their careers went in the direction they wanted. Plus, even Jake could tell just by being in a room with them for five minutes, that they were the type of people that would make what they wanted to happen, happen.

Still, they had to prove to Mr. Phillips that they were the type of musicians that could sell records.

"Jake."

"Tiffany."

"Right on time, what a surprise," Tiffany said, giving Jake a wide smile as she stepped out of a conference room. "No hang ups. No little accidents?"

"Not today," Jake replied, "thankfully."

"Well, then, hopefully everything goes your way in there, too," Tiffany replied, angling her head towards the closed conference room door. "Mr. Phillips is actually in a pretty good mood." She blinked, and then looked around the room. "There was supposed to be three bands here, last I checked."

"They got held up," Fletch explained, stepping away from the stairwell door. "We have another meeting scheduled in a couple of days. Everything's been all worked out."

Tiffany lifted her eyebrows. "Ok, then. Well, you can go in now. Good luck."

"All right, everyone, let's go. Mr. Phillips has already been waiting for us for the past couple of days." Waving his arms as if he was on the tarmac of an airport, Jake motioned for everyone to follow him. As one large pack, they followed along behind him until they all filed into the large conference room at the back of Masquerade Records.

Damon Phillips sat at the head of the table, hands folded neatly on the table in front of him, watching them all shuffle into the room, shaking hands and introducing themselves to the people at the table, and those projected on the monitor on the walls as they were patched through in a video call.

"Ok, just so everyone knows who they are," Jake said, standing next to Mr. Phillips near the head of the table, "we have James Bourne, Matt Willis, and Charlie Simpson of Busted." Each man nodded their head or waved when their names were called. "And then we have Tom Fletcher, Danny Jones, Harry Judd, and Dougie Poynter of McFly. They're excited to be working with Masquerade Records again."

"Very excited," Tom replied, his dimple appearing in his cheek as he smiled.

Jake lowered himself in his seat, being careful to make sure the cushion was situated directly beneath him. Mr. Phillips then introduced the marketing, radio, press, and video departments of Masquerade Records, and everyone was introduced to the other representatives of the other record companies.

"So, this is going to be one big party from what I understand," Mr. Phillips said, his booming voice instantly filling the room. Jake closed an eye, leaning away from the loud outburst. "An anniversary celebration of sorts. And you all know how much I like to party" He let out a deep barking laugh.

Snorts and scoffs were heard around the room. Fletch, who was sitting next to Jake, elbowed Matt in the side as he pressed his fist hard against his mouth to hold back his laughter. James's eyes were squeezed shut. Charlie pressed his lips together as he twisted his chair from side to side. Jake couldn't see past the three of them to gauge the other's reactions, but knowing the boys of McFly, they were trying just as hard not to react to the sound.

"What we want to do is," Jake said, getting to business, "is to use the Masquerade Bash, as I mentioned before, to showcase all three bands' talents. Everybody knows how McFly came to be because of Busted, whether they are fans of one band, or the other, or both. We can introduce new fans to each band with this tour. They have similar sounds, but their musical repertoire also shows just how diverse they are and what they can bring to the table with their music. And with Blazing Phoenix looking to put out a new record, and McFly proposing the idea of an Anthology Tour, now's the best time to get them all together to tour America."

"Basically," Fletch said, speaking up, to the confused looks on some faces, "McFly would be performing every song on every album they have released." He cleared his throat. "However, I wish for them to explain it to you further."

"Well," Tom's eyes widened slightly when everybody's attention turned towards him, "Danny and I were thinking that while we haven't put out new music in a while, we have already released an album in the states as a compilation of some of our greatest hits. We want to show them what music we have created since then."

"The idea is to play all of the songs on an album or two every night we have a show," Danny added, "ending with our most recent album on the last night." Excited murmurs went around the room. Mr. Phillips's eyebrows lifted as he slowly nodded. "Not only would it introduce us to new fans here, but whenever we travel back home, it'll be a treat for our fans there."

"And with Busted, fans have been asking for them for a reunion for ages," Fletch added, "I reckon the large gap in their repertoire is something that could be a cause of alarm for some, but I promise you, it's not. They've been working on some new music as well, that they're itching to get out there. Not only would this opportunity give James, Matt, and Charlie the chance to work on new music, but they can also show where they started as Busted, and where they are now through the tour."

"So how does this all work out with this third band?" Mr. Phillips asked.

"Well, we've been talking to our friends," James spoke up, "and now, we're thinking, if everything runs smoothly, of having them headline while in America and Australia." He cleared his throat and started to spin his water bottle between his hands. "McFly and us, Busted, would alternate the opening slot. While in Europe and the United Kingdom, McFly and Busted will co-headline and Blazing Phoenix would open."

"We know three bands is a lot," Charlie added, "but we were thinking we could have shorter sets for each the opening acts, and earlier start times. That way we could make sure people wouldn't be out so late, but still get the chance to see their favorite bands."

"People have been asking us to do something like this for a long time," Matt added. "Even more now after James and I were part of McBusted."

"Sounds like a party to me," Mr. Phillips said, adjusting the collar of his shirt. "And you all know that I like to party." He nudged Jake's arm. "Huh? You know. You know!" Jake pushed a smile to his face, fighting the urge to massage the area that Mr. Phillips just hit with his large hand. "Look, this all sounds good to me," he said. "I haven't forgotten how well received McFly were at the Hard Rock."

"Mr. Phillips, thank you," Jake said, grabbing his hand in between both of his. "You won't be disappointed. This will put Masquerade Records on the map."

"Hold on, hold on," Mr. Phillips said. He roughly pulled his hand out of Jake's grip. "I also haven't forgotten how close of a call that night was." He frowned. "Things weren't on the up and up that night. This is a big investment and you know how much I don't like losing money."

"With all due respect, mate," Danny spoke up, "you can't be hard pressed for money given all the renovations around this place."

"While that is all well and good," a voice, the publicity manager of East Coast Records, spoke up, their voice sounding tinny from the speakers of the tv monitor, "you also need to remember just how grueling it is to introduce not one band, but three to the music industry in America. Not only does Busted need to do the groundwork of things they haven't done since they had started their band, but they need to do the same kind of work back here in the UK."

"We're ready to do it," Charlie replied. "We're ready to put all of that hard work in to make this work."

"Yeah, definitely," Matt agreed. "Just as long as we're not marketed as a pop group. We never were strictly pop and it's not something we want to have to deal with again."

"I'm not going to lie, it's going to be hard," a radio representative of Masquerade Records explained. "Pop music isn't really what's popular in the US anymore: it's more of the indie sound despite rock still being the most popular genre here. Sub-genres, such as alternative and punk-rock aren't as popular anymore and R&B is making its way up there as well. Plus, you've got numbers and data for streams factoring into what makes a single or an album successful or a failure." The man put his hands up defensively. "I'm not saying this isn't impossible, just that it will be difficult."

"I can assure you that they've all talked hard and long about this," Jake said. "What's most important to them is that they put out music they like and are proud of. They're excited to get the chance to do this all together and do it in a way people haven't seen before."

"We can all come up with ideas on how this will work out," Fletch said, running his fingers through his hair, "but when it all comes down to it, this will get people's attention. This will show everyone their musicality and what music means to this lot. To them, it's not about record sales, or how many shows they can sell out, it's just about the music."

"You're right, however," the social media head explained, "it's about their online presence as well. Social media allows everyone to feel like they're one step closer to you guys. They're the ones constantly Tweeting, Instagramming, Facebooking about what their idols are doing. It's the fastest way to get the word out nowadays."

"We'll finalize the details later," Mr. Phillips said, abruptly getting to his feet, "but I like what I'm hearing. I'm also hearing my stomach is telling me that it's time for lunch." He rubbed his hands on his stomach before he offered his hand to Jake. "Jake, nice to see you again. We'll keep in touch." He nodded towards Fletch. "We'll keep in touch with all of you about further developments – we just need to speak to Blazing Phoenix, and we should be getting the ball rolling. Just make sure this is all planned out, written down and all that jazz for everyone to be on the same page." He snapped his fingers. "Electronically of course, printing things out costs time and money. And my time, which costs me my money."

On that note, he shuffled out of the room, effectively ending his time in the meeting.

"Is that normal?" Matt asked under his breath, watching the man leave. James just shrugged. Charlie's lips pulled downwards into a slight frown.

"You'll get used to it," Jake reassured them. "The important thing is, he's on board."

As more questions were thrown out by the other factions of the record labels, Jake slumped in his seat, feeling the energy suddenly drained from his body. If everything worked well, he knew that he'd have many more days feeling just like this. And he couldn't wait.