I wasn’t supposed to quit the pod. It was two months ago, at a meeting discussing contract renewal with SoundSugar execs and my agent Nina in an office with yoga balls, a foosball table and a kombucha fridge. Sat in a meeting room christened the ‘Thought Womb’ (everything was a pastel pink) and in baffling transatlantic accents by way of Berkshire by way of Clapham, executives gushed about The Heartbeat, how they were so excited about its diverse power and how well the live shows went.
