Shadows of Austin
In the pulsating heart of SXSW, at Waterloo Park’s Moody Amphitheater in Austin, Texas, the night of March 15, 2023, wrapped the downtown area in a feverish energy. The crisp late-afternoon air carried the scent of street tacos, spilled craft beer, and the faint mix of sweat and sweet perfume. The temperature had dropped to around 13°C (55°F), bringing a sharp chill that contrasted with the human warmth of the crowd. Colored lights flickered over makeshift stages and packed venues while the audience — an eclectic mix of casually dressed young people, record executives in dark sunglasses, and dedicated fans — moved between sets, eager to discover the next pop phenomenon.
Finn watched everything from a discreet corner, hands buried in the pockets of his worn leather jacket. In his early forties, the producer and former singer carried on his face the marks of a career filled with ups and downs. Looking back on his journey, he couldn’t complain about total failure. Some of his tracks had exploded in the voices of more charismatic performers; as a producer, he had discovered promising talents and reaped successes. Still, that bitter taste of “I want more” always lingered. Artists had left him too early. By the time they truly broke through, they were already under the care of more aggressive professionals.
“Look at me grumbling,” he muttered to himself with an ironic smile. “I’m a man—my mileage is much higher. I feel sorry for the women. The pop music market is merciless with them, always chasing the next younger, shinier diva.”
His name was Finn Sterling. At that moment, he was producing and managing the career of Zane Reed, the young pop star everyone was calling the sensation of the moment. How long would it last? Finn didn’t know. He could already feel the vultures circling the boy, ready to offer fatter contracts.
“I promised myself that if I lost him, I’d quit the manager role for good,” he reflected. “I’ll stick to music production. That already gives me enough work and pays the bills.”
As if summoned by the thought, Zane Reed emerged from the crowd, his hair tousled by the wind and his eyes nervous. The kid approached with quick steps.
“Hey, Finn, I need to talk to you about something,” Zane said, keeping his voice low to avoid drawing attention. “My dad is on my back. He wants me to switch managers. He thinks you can’t handle managing both of us at the same time.”
Finn let out a short laugh, unsurprised.
“I was literally thinking about that while waiting for you. If you’re here to tell me you don’t want me as your manager anymore, just say it,” he joked, though his tone carried an undercurrent of resignation.
Zane scratched the back of his neck, visibly uneasy.
“I’m scared. My dad is impulsive and has zero patience. He doesn’t even care that you’re the one who discovered me. Back then, he only put me down, saying I didn’t have enough talent. But once he starts, he doesn’t stop. It’s going to be hard to handle the pressure.”
“Kid, I’m used to this kind of thing,” Finn replied with a shrug. “You won’t be the first. Maybe you’ll be the last.”
Zane raised his eyebrows, curious.
“What do you mean by that?”
Finn stared at the horizon of festival lights for a moment.
“If I lose you to another manager, I’m done. I’ll dedicate myself exclusively to production. That’s more than enough,” he declared, his voice firm.
Zane shook his head, frustrated.
“I don’t understand why my dad is so obsessed. There must be something behind it. He must be getting some kind of advantage. My mom already warned me about it. She’s on your side, but she knows the old man turns into a plague once he decides something.”
At that exact moment, a stage assistant approached, earpiece in place and clipboard in hand. The murmur of the crowd grew louder in the background.
“Zane Reed? You’re the next act. Five minutes.”
Finn gave his protégé an encouraging pat on the shoulder.
“Go on, kid. Forget everything else and focus on the show. Kill it!”
“Thanks, Finn. See you in a bit,” Zane replied, already heading toward the stage.
The main stage that night, set up in an outdoor venue near downtown, featured modern lighting and a powerful sound system that reverberated through the surroundings. The audience of about a thousand people wore light jackets against the March chill. Some held cups of beer, others filmed with their phones. The occasional scent of marijuana blended with the damp air. Finn retreated to a more secluded corner, leaned against the exposed brick wall, and ran a hand over his face.
“It was only a matter of time before that bastard pulled something,” he thought bitterly. “Zane doesn’t know that I know: when he was little, his father used to beat him. The guy’s nothing but trash.”
He pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He had managed to quit for two weeks, but the tension had won again.
“I need to drop this habit for good. And this manager business too. I already make good money with production and I’m in demand. Can’t embrace the whole world.”
A light chuckle sounded behind him. Finn turned and found himself face to face with Cadence Moore, the pop star with a loyal but smaller, more niche fanbase. She had shone brightly at the beginning of her career but had lost momentum over time. She was still booked for festivals like this one, though no longer as a headliner.
“Worried about something, Mr. Finn?” she asked with a playful smile that couldn’t hide the melancholy in her eyes.
Finn recognized her immediately.
“Where do you know me from?”
“We have a mutual friend,” Cadence replied, stepping closer. “Aura Lux.”
“Oh? And who else?” Finn shot back, amused.
“Aura Lux,” she repeated, extending her hand. Then she pointed at the pack. “Can I bum a cigarette?”
“I’ll give you one, but this is poison for a young and beautiful singer like you,” he teased, offering the cigarette.
Cadence lit it with a lighter and took a slow drag.
“Do you think I’m beautiful, Mr. Finn?”
“I do. Any doubt?”
“Sometimes being beautiful isn’t enough,” she murmured, exhaling smoke that mingled with the cold air.
Finn frowned.
“Wow, why so much bitterness in such a young singer?”
“So young? If things keep going like this, I’ll be retired by 29,” she replied ironically.
“That’s not possible. I saw your last show. You still move the crowd, you have great stage presence, and most importantly, you don’t lip-sync. Your voice is rare—authentic.”
Cadence let out a short laugh.
“Wow, you sound just like my dad. He says the same thing: that the industry doesn’t value my work, that I should look for other people and not get discouraged.”
“Who’s your current manager?” Finn asked.
“Ian Nova.”
Finn made a face of displeasure.
“What? You look like you just tasted something bad. You know Ian Nova well, huh?” she teased.
“My mother used to say that if you don’t have anything good to say about someone, silence is the best answer,” Finn concluded evasively.
Cadence shrugged.
“It doesn’t matter anymore anyway. He dropped me. He’s not managing my career. The problem is that, besides the manager, I also lost my record deal. They didn’t want to renew it. Today is my last show. I have nothing else scheduled. Honestly, I’m thinking about quitting. The only reason I haven’t stopped completely is because of my fans. One of the fan clubs is really dedicated—they never miss a show. I’m even embarrassed to tell them I’m retiring. By the way, would you want to manage my career? Or do you only take on boys and girls at the beginning of their careers?” she joked, though her tone revealed genuine hope.
Finn pointed toward the stage, where Zane was beginning his performance. The young man’s powerful voice echoed, blending electronic beats with catchy melodies.
“Hear that kid singing?”
“Of course. Zane Reed, the sensation of the moment,” Cadence replied.
“I’m his manager. I made a promise to myself that he would be the last one. And it looks like it won’t take long. I just had a talk with him. Seems like there’s already another agent circling.”
Cadence tilted her head.
“One thing I don’t understand: why did you get into this? You’re one of the biggest producers in the United States. Your songs blow up, you’re in demand. Why wear yourself out with management? Leave that to others.”
Finn sighed, looking at the ground.
“Truth is, it’s more like penance. I didn’t want them to make the same mistakes I made at the beginning. I had bad managers who shortened my career. If I didn’t have the gift of songwriting, I’d be out of the market, like so many broken promises.”
“Aura told me you gave her excellent advice. She still keeps it to this day. Every time we meet, she mentions it,” Cadence commented.
Finn shook his head.
“Aura Lux is another story. She couldn’t stay with me and left as soon as she started blowing up.”
Cadence’s expression showed genuine surprise.
“Wow, you don’t know…”
“Don’t know what?” Finn asked, intrigued.
She smiled sideways.
“I’ve already said too much today. I’d better get ready for my show. Are you going to watch? It might be my last one. Today will be a historic moment: the early retirement of Cadence Moore, known worldwide as Destiny. My dad gave me that nickname when I did my first show at 14. Speaking of which, it stuck like glue. No doubt I could have been a diva. What a melancholic end for a promise… Enough whining.”
“Who knows? Better days may come,” Finn replied hopefully.
“Who knows,” she repeated softly. “Are you going to the after-party?”
“I don’t usually go to those parties. Sometimes people get out of hand. But maybe I’ll stop by.”
“If you do, we’ll see each other there. It’s at the Hotel Vegas. Now I’m heading to the dressing room. I have a ritual I never skip. See you later.”
Finn watched Cadence walk away, her slender silhouette contrasting with her gothic, almost post-punk black clothes and heavy makeup.
“What a waste of talent,” he thought. “This industry is full of sharks. The girl seems so grounded. And she’s so beautiful… A little tweak to her look, more current clothes, less heavy makeup. The hardest part she already does well: singing. What a voice! As I’d say—velvet and steel. There I go again with ideas. Enough. Let’s watch some of the show.”
While Zane dominated the stage with youthful energy, Finn allowed himself one last drag on his cigarette. In the background, the crowd vibrated, oblivious to the silent battles happening behind the scenes of the pop industry.
