The band gathered in front of a twenty-story office building downtown around noon on Sunday.
Cornel felt pretty awful—mostly his head hurt, but he complained about his stomach too.
— We told you it was going to mess you up. — Alice said.
— You didn't tell me that at all. Justin even bought me a shot.
— Dude, you actually bought everyone a shot. — Justin said. — Don't you remember?
— Well, my wallet definitely got thinner after last night.
They went into the office building, where the security guard eyed them because of how they were dressed and probably wouldn't have let them in if Ervin hadn't spoken to him about them.
They walked over to the fat, mustached guard, who then pointed them toward the elevator and told them which floor.
When they reached the thirteenth floor, they found the office right away. On a dark plaque, in white letters, it read: "Ervin Blue."
They knocked, then stepped into Ervin's office, which was a little different from ordinary offices.
The furniture was jet-black with red buttons. The walls were gray, covered in band posters.
Ervin sat in front of the darkened window behind a large desk, reading. He was wearing a studded leather jacket again.
Across from Ervin sat an older, balding man in a suit.
The band took seats in the chairs around the desk—everyone except Cornel, who first got himself some water from the water dispenser. Then he sat down too, holding his stomach.
— Is everything alright? — Ervin asked.
— Just hungover. — Justin replied with a grin. — He can't handle alcohol.
— Ah, I see. So the gentleman here is Dr. Andrew Eagle, a lawyer who will answer any questions you may have about the contract.
Ervin slid the same contract toward them that they'd already skimmed the night before.
They read through it again—this time Cornel too—and they simply couldn't find anything wrong with it.
Ervin wasn't asking for much, only eight percent, which was extremely strange.
— I'm curious about this eight percent. — Justin said. — Why only that?
— I believe in this band. I saw how good you were last night—you had the spark I was looking for. I think eight percent will be more than enough, because you will earn a lot of money once people get to know you a little better.
— You're a very weird guy, Ervin, but… I love it. I'm good with it, I'll scribble my name on it. What about you? Are we selling our souls?
— That's something you do at a crossroads, isn't it? — Cornel asked.
— You know, young man, this building was built on an old crossroads back when I was only six years old. — Andrew remarked.
— What? Seriously?
— No, I was just joking. — he said with a faint smile under his wrinkled nose.
Justin laughed.
— Ah, that was a good one, old man. So are we signing already?
Alice grabbed the pen, and she was the first to write her name at the bottom of the paper.
The others followed one by one until everyone's signature was there.
Ervin took the papers and put them away in a drawer, then smiled at them with his hands clasped.
— Excellent. Now we can finally begin our work. I admit I have already been making arrangements.
— Making arrangements? — Justin asked.
— Yes. I invited a friend of mine to your concert, who happens to work at Star Radio. He liked all of your songs, especially "Burn With Me!". He would gladly play it on one of his shows—several times a day.
They were stunned. Everyone in the city knew Star Radio. Lots of people listened to it.
— If they play our song there, then… — Alice started.
— Then we can blow up fast. — Justin continued.
— Precisely. — Ervin replied. — I want you to appear tomorrow at a studio downtown. I will have your equipment transported.
After they discussed the time, the address, and everything else, it was time to leave.
They needed to show their very best tomorrow in the studio, fully rested—and for that it was crucial that Cornel recover from his hangover.
***
Alice went to her workplace, because she had to talk to her boss about what came next.
Right now the girl she couldn't stand was working in the kitchen: Denise.
Alice greeted her, but Denise didn't really greet her back—she just examined her nails while the other new coworker, a chubbier girl, did Denise's work too.
Alice moved on, knocked on the boss's door, and he received her in his cramped little office.
— What a surprise, Alice. Are you here to work overtime?
Alice laughed.
— Sure.
— We could use your help, actually. This new girl, Betty—poor thing—she's pretty slow. Lucky we don't have many customers today.
— Yeah, the problem is definitely the new girl… Anyway, I'm here because I might not be able to take as many shifts in the near future.
— Oh? Did you like yesterday's concert that much?
— You could say that, yeah.
— Then I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I'll have to fire you. You know how it is—there's no part-time work here and things like that.
— Can't we make an exception? I'm a good worker.
— No, we don't make exceptions. You know we run with a small staff—we need everyone full-time. This isn't some big downtown super-restaurant with thousands of customers a day.
— Alright, alright, I get it. At least can I take tomorrow off? I still have all my days off.
— You know very well you have to request that weeks in advance. If you don't come in tomorrow, I'll have to fire you.
— Just because I'm not available for one single day in this whole damn year? — Alice was getting irritated now. — But Denise would get the whole fucking week if she asked.
— She wouldn't, because the rules apply to her too.
— To that cleavage on two legs? She's not doing anything right now!
— It's not your job to supervise my employees, it's mine. I hired you with no school, no nothing, and on your very first day I told you how the schedule works. You can't come in tomorrow? Fine—then don't come ever again. That's it.
Alice first thought about snapping back, but then she reconsidered.
She remembered the crowd, the rush of adrenaline, signing the contract, her friends' excitement—and she saw a clean, straight road ahead of her, one she didn't want to step off.
— Fine. Then I quit. — she replied calmly.
***
Alice got home. Her sister was mopping the hallway.
Alice was afraid to ask why she was doing that. If it was because of their father, it would've been hard for her to hold herself back.
— It's not what it looks like. — Lucy said. — I just thought I'd surprise you.
— By cleaning? Well, you surprised me, I'll give you that. Is Dad home?
— No, he left not long ago.
— Another wonderful surprise. This day just keeps getting better. Now put that thing down—I brought shakes.
Lucy put the mop away and they went into the kitchen together, where Alice put two shakes on the table, along with burgers, fries, and sauces.
— Damn, what are we celebrating? The concert?
— Something like that. I've got really good news.
Lucy popped a fry into her mouth, then took a sip of the shake.
— So what is it?
— Our music is going to be played on Star Radio next week.
— Really? That's amazing! Congratulations!
— Oh, and I quit my job, so this is the last Burger Emperor shake we're stuffing into ourselves.
— No way! You quit your dream job? — Lucy laughed.
— Yeah, and I don't even know what I'll do now. I'll miss the rude customers, the burns, and my shitty schedule.
— You forgot your hair that smells like frying oil.
— Yeah, I loved that. — Alice's face turned a little more serious. — I'm taking a risk, princess. If this doesn't work out, we could lose a lot of income. Dad's money only covers the bills, not the rest.
— Oh please, you're really good! You'll be stars, millionaires, and then you can buy me shakes and pretty clothes every day.
— Does the princess want a palace from me too?
— Now that you mention it… Could it be pink? With a roller coaster!
— And the servants should be clowns?
— Ew! I hate clowns.
— Right? Who even likes them?
— I think they don't even like themselves.
They had a good laugh together. They both had negative experiences with clowns, so they definitely had an opinion on them.
— Now eat, and then we can go somewhere.
— The arcade!
— The arcade?
— I'll let you pick your character first.
— Oh, you're going to regret that decision, princess.
***
The next morning, around ten, the band gathered at the address Ervin had given them.
As promised, their equipment had already been transported, and they were unloading it right in front of them.
Pinky was a little worried that one of the toms or stands might get damaged, so she kept an eye on them.
The others climbed the stairs on foot. The studio was on the top floor, but the building was only four stories high.
They reached it quickly, and Ervin was already waiting at the door with a big, dark-skinned, bearded guy.
— Ah, greetings! Pinky isn't with you?
— She's with the workers, watching her drum kit. It wasn't cheap. — Justin replied.
— I see. The gentleman beside me is Hola. This studio belongs to him.
— Hey. — Hola greeted them with a grin, gemstones glinting on his two front teeth.
Hola offered his hand and shook with everyone, and once Pinky arrived by elevator, they went into the studio.
They all immediately took their places behind the glass wall and started tuning.
Pinky cared so much about her drum kit that she placed the pieces herself.
Once they were all ready, Hola explained what they were going to do.
— Alright, listen up, it's damn simple. If the green light is on, we're recording. We'll do as many takes as you want, then we pick the best one and it goes straight into Star Radio's show. Any questions?
They had no questions. They were just waiting for Pinky to count them in so they could start.
— Okay, five seconds and I'm rolling.
Hola started it, Pinky counted them in, and they launched into it.
Alice's song was still a heavy hitter, and this time it seemed like they performed it even better than ever before.
When Alice screamed one of the bridges all the way through with that raspy voice, they all heard a strength in it they'd never experienced—not in rehearsal and not even at the concert.
After they played the song, they all felt something—something that made them think they didn't need to record any more takes.
— You guys absolutely sure? — Hola asked.
— Yeah. — Alice said. — That was the…
— The best! — Justin yelled. — Holy shit, my guitar practically burned under my hands! You too, Corny?
— Yeah, it was fucking awesome. How did you do that, Alice? What was that brutal rasp? It was insane!
Alice didn't know the answer. It was as if something had possessed her while she played. She felt fire flickering around her, but this time it didn't want to hurt her. This fire was cold—pleasant, refreshing.
They listened back to the recording, and everyone agreed it was perfect and didn't need changes.
Hola praised them too—he said he hadn't heard a hard, crushing track like that in a long time.
***
The guy from Star Radio listened to the recording and promised Ervin they'd put it on the air that very Monday evening.
It was great news for the band. They gathered in their rehearsal room with a radio and impatiently waited for it to finally play.
That evening was special for another reason too—it was the last time they would be in this ground-floor space of the building. Ervin had arranged a bigger rehearsal room for them and had already had their gear moved.
They didn't find it that hard to say goodbye to this place. The walls were moldy in spots, there was no bathroom, it was cramped and small, and the acoustics weren't perfect either, but as a starting point it had been more than good enough.
On the radio, the voice of a familiar host came on, and he began introducing them.
He spoke about them as young talents who might just save the stage—maybe even set it on fire.
Justin took a sip of his beer and tried to turn the radio up, but it was already maxed out.
— Dude, that's all it can do. Don't break it. — Cornel told him.
— This is the biggest moment of our band's life and you bring the crappiest radio from home?
— Crappy? This is a serious brand!
— Well, I'm not satisfied with the volume.
— If they'd left us an amp, we could've hooked it up.
— Guys, be quiet! It's playing now. — Alice said.
The host played the song, and they took another step upward.
As Alice listened, that same feeling from the studio returned.
The radio caught fire, its buttons melted. The rehearsal room caught fire, her friends were burning, and she was burning too.
This time she didn't panic. She was starting to make peace with the fire. This fire didn't want to destroy her—it wanted to feed her.