Free One Man's Trash by Yolanda Allen Page A

her. “What is going on here?”

Diamond turned around. Her and JT yelled over each other trying to get their
point across. “Wait! I can only hear you one at a time. Diamond, what’s going
on?”

“That’s my song, Mr. James. He stole my song. I recorded it at his house one
day and he promised me that he would delete it. He didn’t delete it.” Diamond
tried to gain control over her emotions. Her chin trembled. Do not cry. Do not
cry.

“Mr. James, I did not steal her song. Why would I do that? I know you have all
your songs copyright so why would I steal your song?”

Diamond spun around on her heels. She pushed him hard in the chest. “You know
that is my song. Do you really think I’m going to let you take my song and pass
it off as if it’s yours? I wrote that song when I was seventeen years old. I
told you to erase it because it holds sentimental value to me. How could you do
this, JT? I got you here! You’re here because of me and you want to steal from
me? What did I do to you?” So much for not crying. “What did I do to you?”

“Diamond.” Philip soothed her back “Diamond, sweetie, we can get to the bottom
of this. But we have to do it offstage.”

She faced Philip. Tears streamed down her face. She looked around the room.
Time had stood still. Everyone was frozen, watching them. Cell phones recorded the
moment JT had made an ass out of her. In front of her boss and her co-workers
and other industry folks that she didn’t know. Not to mention the millions of
people that would probably see this on YouTube in the matter of hours.

Philip told them to meet him in the back. He then apologized to the audience
and introduced Token to the stage.

Diamond walked briskly to the backstage area near the dressing room. JT moved
with no urgency. Philip showed up seconds after them.

“Diamond, now please tell me that you have some kind of proof that you wrote
that song? You’re going to need proof that you wrote the song or it’s just his
word against yours.”

“It’s not her song, Mr. James. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Diamond?” Philip didn’t acknowledge JT. “Can you prove it?”

Thoughts whirled through her mind. Could she prove that song was hers? She
pulled at her lower lip. She had proof. She just didn’t have the proof.
She looked at Philip. “I can prove it.”

“Okay, JT, you can’t sing that song anymore until this issue is resolved.”

“How can you do that? You’re just going to take her word over mine?”

“JT, there is no reason for Diamond to get this emotional over a song if she
didn’t believe that it was her song. I have to take her reaction into
consideration. I can’t just ignore this accusation. It’s a very serious one. So
for now, you can’t sing that song.”

JT huffed. “So I can’t perform tonight?”

“You can perform. Just pick another song.”

“But—”

“Pick another song,” Philip interrupted. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Diamond,
are you okay? Do you need me to call you a cab?” He asked with genuine concern.

“No, sir. My friend will see that I get home alright.” Embarrassment settled
in.

“We are going to settle this okay? I take these things very seriously. Go home,
get some rest and we will speak about this on Monday.”

She nodded, texted Kimmy to meet her out front, and exited the side door. She
had to prove that it was in fact her song. There was one person that could put
an end to this whole ordeal. But did he still have the copy of the CD she made
for him in high school? How would she contact him? He hadn’t talked to his
family in five years. He definitely wouldn’t talk to her. But she had to try. He
was her only hope. Ryder Gillian was the last person that she’d ever imagined
needing to come to her rescue. Ever.

TEN Diamond sat on the edge of her bed and replayed the video of last night’s
events for the fifth time on her phone. Kimmy had texted the link to her early
that morning. The title of the