The Ingredients for Happiness. Lucy Knott

eggs

      1 tsp baking powder

      1-2 tbsp milk

       For the frosting:

      Butter

      Icing sugar

      2 tbsp tea

      1 tsp vanilla

       What to do:

      Cream butter and sugar together.

      Add eggs slowly, then milk.

      Combine baking powder and flour and sift into mixture.

      Add tea and vanilla.

      Stir until combined.

      Scoop into cupcake liners and bake at 180 degrees for around 25 mins or until spaghetti comes out clean.

      Beat butter and icing sugar until desired consistency and add tea and vanilla. (Doesn’t have to be super stiff, it gets too sweet like those American cakes with too much frosting. Keep it fluffy and buttery.)

      Sabrina glanced around the overcrowded coffee shop. In every direction she looked there were people staring at laptops and phone screens; headphones bobbing along to music. Occasionally she had a rare glimpse of people communicating, looking at each other, fully engaged in conversation as they sipped on their vegan chai tea. She had loved LA for its vibrant culture and colourful mix of inhabitants. She didn’t regret her time here for a second but having spent Christmas in Italy with her family she knew going home was the right thing for her. She’d learnt so much during her time in LA, from both the highs and the lows. She had immersed herself in her work, given Lydia and Jones Records her all, but now it was time to really show the music industry what she was made of.

      Since arriving back in LA after the New Year, her phone had been buzzing continuously. The news was out that San Francisco Beat were free agents and that Sabrina was no longer working for Jones Records either. Her first point of call had been to address the situation and so she had made a statement that she was still very much the manager for San Francisco Beat and that yes, they were on the market for a new record deal.

      She sipped her Earl Grey, longing for an Italian espresso, but knowing that over Christmas she had been well and truly spoilt by the fresh Italian coffee her zias made and that here in LA, no matter what Italian brand they used, it just wouldn’t quite be the same. On the other hand, the Earl Grey did satisfy her needs and made her stomach bubble with excitement about getting back to Manchester. She eyed her list of emails, a swarm of potential record labels flooding her brain. When Levi and Dan had asked her to remain their manager she had been thrilled. She had leapt up and down, grateful that she still had a job and overwhelmed and touched that they believed in her. Of course she still felt all those things, but now there was a niggle of nerves partying in her stomach that she was having trouble evicting. This was a huge decision. In this business it was a trying task to stay true to who you were. Record labels could suck the soul right out of a band with the temptation of making millions and making you a star – after all, they knew exactly how to do that. But Sabrina was smart. San Francisco Beat were already a huge success across the USA and were making waves across the pond too, thanks to their last song ‘Need a Little You’ being popular with radio DJ’s. Sabrina had been able to converse with the band’s music publisher on a few occasions without Lydia breathing down her neck. She’d snuck in a few mentions as to what UK radio stations she believed would be a good fit for the band and her moments of bravery had paid off. Sabrina had done her utmost over the last three years to fight for the band and what they represented, despite Jones Records’ best attempts at getting them to strip down to their boxers and create their own perfume; that was wonderful for some acts, but it just wasn’t them. Being their manager, due to her big sister’s meddling, meant Sabrina had a lot of say in their careers. However, with her attachment to Jones Records and working so closely with Lydia as her assistant, Lydia had certainly made this hard for her.

      So now she needed to find a label that would complement her vision and best suit the boys and their sound. Her palms were sweaty as she tapped away at her keyboard, opening proposals and reading through offers. They all sounded good, many highlighting the big clientele that already worked for them and discussing the fame and fortune they could deliver. Sabrina ‘umm’ed and ‘ahh’ed, nothing special leaping out at her. Yes, the boys wanted to be successful. Their lives had changed dramatically over the last three years. They were no longer playing dive bars and small clubs in San Francisco, working part-time jobs to get by; they were playing arenas across America and had all been able to buy houses and pay off their parents’ mortgages. For that they were incredibly grateful, but money did not drive them. Sabrina loved that about them. She kept them grounded and they kept her grounded in this crazy world of showbiz.

      It was vital to her that the label understood who San Francisco Beat were; artists whose music came first. To them it was all about performing and connecting with their audiences, putting on shows that gave people a sense of belonging, checking their egos at the door and providing for their families.

      Thinking of family reminded Sabrina that she had a few texts from her sisters that she needed to reply to. As she picked up her phone to do so, it started ringing – a number flashing across the screen that she didn’t recognize. She hastily accepted the call, keen to stay on top of the requests for San Francisco Beat. Her pulse quickened and the nerves raved on in her belly.

      ‘Hello, is that Sabrina Collins?’ a man’s voice asked rather loudly and forcefully, causing Sabrina to pull the phone away from her ear. She cleared her throat, wanting to sound confident and professional.

      ‘Yes, yes, it is. How can I help you?’ she replied, as she played with the string from the teabag that dangled out of her little teapot.

      ‘I’m Kyle Jennings with Music Life magazine. We’d like to run an article on San Francisco Beat and I want to get the boys in for an interview as soon as possible. They’re in high demand and we want them. You need to be aggressive, love. The boys are hot commodity right now and where are they? Looking at cafés in Manchester and hanging out in skate parks when they should be riding the free-agent wave.’

      Sabrina opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. She didn’t know what to say. The man’s abrupt tone threw her off. While she wanted to appreciate his advice, she was stunned at his rudeness. Then again, she shouldn’t have been. This was LA – where there was money to be made everyone wanted a piece of the action. She sat up straighter in her chair. She currently didn’t have anyone helping her with San Francisco Beat. She couldn’t hide behind publicists or label execs when conflict got too much – she was now the first line of defense where the band were concerned. She certainly didn’t have Lydia’s brazen approach when it came to dealing with people, but she knew she needed to be tougher. She rolled her shoulders back and cleared her throat once more.

      ‘San Francisco Beat are currently on a break. They have families and lives to live, just like the rest of us, and at this time they are not available for interviews,’ Sabrina said as she tugged at her lip, brows furrowed, not wanting the man to get nasty with her, but well aware of how journalists could talk. After the peace and anonymity that Italy had offered, it unnerved Sabrina that the paparazzi were now hounding the boys. They must have spotted Dan in England with Amanda and caught on to both Dylan and James being back at home in San Francisco spending time with their families before the whirlwind of a new record deal had them on the road again.

      ‘Suit yourself, sweetheart, but people don’t want to see the boys on playdates with their other halves. They’re rock stars, they best start acting like it. And they’re talented at that. I just hope you don’t run them into the ground.’ With that he hung up and left Sabrina aggressively stabbing at her vanilla cupcake that donned far too much frosting.

      She put her phone down next to her barely touched cupcake, suddenly having lost her appetite. Come on, Sabrina, she urged herself. You need to pick one. Though she didn’t care for the man’s patronizing tone, he was right. Sabrina couldn’t dawdle forever and stall this next step. She needed to believe in herself and follow her gut. The band’s fans would be waiting for a new album and a new tour;