Today, I headed to the Alritex Records recording studio. The guys have been calling more often lately, asking if I'd like to drop by for a quick visit. They claimed they had a ton of questions and wanted to discuss the details of their looks and the intricacies of performing arts, but I think their sense of style is just fine—they simply missed me. Still, I needed to see for myself that Marvin and Joan were doing well. Our promising newcomers have already released music videos for their title tracks, and we plan to start selling EPs later this month.The Michael Jackson and Lady Gaga personas of Marvin and Joan became a hit with a wide audience, as evidenced by the huge number of views on YouTube.
There was no doubt they would have a successful career. The car sped me to the studio, leaving behind densely packed high-rises and noisy streets. I loved being in the studio—it was almost on the outskirts of the city, quietly secluded from neighboring houses, hidden behind the green branches of shaggy spruce trees. As I drove, my mind wandered, but my thoughts kept returning to the previous evening.
Pamela had come right up to me and slowly reached for my lips. It wasn't the first time she'd tried to seduce me, and I'd managed to thwart her last attempt, albeit with some difficulty. This time, I wasn't going to deny the red-haired beauty such an innocent expression of affection. Our lips almost touched, but Isley jerked back and turned away.
She mumbled something incoherent and didn't bring up the subject of kissing again. Yes, I managed to surprise her yesterday. She didn't hide how delighted and grateful she was for my generous act. Although gifts weren't Isley's language of love, the signs of attention I showed her still touched her feminine heart.
I spent the whole night banging my head against the wall, trying to figure out what had happened—why she wanted to kiss, why she changed her mind, and what she was thinking about in general.Perhaps the answers lie in her dislike of men, but I'm almost certain that's not the case. There's something else going on, something deeper. If I'm allowed to say so, I'd suggest that Pamela refused the kiss out of fear—fear that her careless action could harm me.
It's no secret that Gotham's former meta-villain's lips are coated with a deadly poison. Last time, she mentioned being able to control their toxicity, but what if her control is imperfect? Perhaps, back when our friendship was just beginning, she didn't particularly care; but now, strengthened by both time and our shared creation (I'm talking about the serum), we can confidently call ourselves good friends.
I'm almost certain Pamela feels the same way. She no longer saw me as one of those men she so loathed; her glances warmed, and she smiled more often at my jokes. Perhaps it was my increased charisma, or my actions that resonated with the emerald soul of Mother Nature. The green-eyed dryad still distrusted people, but she had learned not to express it so openly. And regarding me, I'm sure she was sincere.And if everything really is as I just imagined, then I can only laugh with joy.
She cares about me now! Just a little more, and we can be together. But her poison really is dangerous—and if even one kiss carries potential death, then what will happen if we go a little further? This problem needs to be resolved urgently. I can't leave this to chance, hoping everything will resolve itself. I need to think about developing an immunity to toxins.
This would not only help my relationship with Ivy, but also allow me to fear less the various poisons that abound in this world. Lost in these thoughts, I suddenly arrived at the recording studio.
Marvin and Joan were hard at work in the gym, practicing their movements. Marvin had especially improved; he floated above the floor, perfectly controlling every part of his body. My lessons had paid off, and now he looked more and more like the King of Pop.
Joan had become more attractive and confident; even through the screen, her powerful, magical energy was palpable. She had made significant progress not only in dancing, but also in singing: she had learned to better control the timbre of her voice, raising her performance to a new level. Everyone was happy to demonstrate their skills and abilities to me. I wasn't stingy with praise—the guys had really done a great job.
Dazzling, when we were finally alone, announced that their album was scheduled for release in a week.
I was quite surprised. "Why the rush?" I asked.
"It's simple," Alison paused for a second.
"Marvin and Joan's albums need to be released before the album of the star against whom our up-and-coming talents don't stand the slightest chance. Otherwise, sales will be lower than planned."
"What are you talking about? Is some local star planning to release their album by the end of December? Are they from Norwood Bailey's label?"
"Of course not. How could you even think that? Our pair will crush all the artists from Metropolis Music Group, and believe me, there are a lot of them. But I'm more than confident in the quality and uniqueness of our product, and therefore I have no doubt in the triumph of Alritex Records in the upcoming clash."
"Then who are you worried about? Who are you afraid to confront?"
"You," Blair said, pointing a finger at me. "I remember you promised me you'd release your own album…"
"Hey, I never mentioned when exactly," I tried to wave it off.
"But your fans mention it, or rather remind me, every day!" she raised her voice, accompanied by soft flashes of blinding light.
"You may have forgotten, but your number of followers on Twitter has exceeded seven million. And most of them are music fans. They've flooded the studio's entire information site with comments—they're demanding that you release a new album. At least check your page sometimes! Book fans are also indignant, asking the highly respected author to continue the stories of their beloved characters. But that's not for me to talk about. What I need is for someone to finally take responsibility and calm their fans down! They're about to start boycotting other artists on our label, and that's simply unacceptable!"
"I get it," I sighed helplessly. "There will be an album... Actually, it's not that bad. In this time, I've managed to enrich this world with hits of pop music, blues and hard rock, and classic compositions from my past world, so I already have at least seven tracks for my own album. I just need to add the title track, and the collection will be ready."
I didn't want to waste any time, so I decided to record the eighth track that same day to complete the album. This time, I had to think hard before deciding which song to release. In the end, I chose the single "Perfect" by British singer-songwriter Ed Sheeran.
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Thanks for your support, gang almighty.