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“Exactly. You have to be fit for that. Most people think it’s just a never-ending party, but it’s hard work and requires a lot of energy from the artists.”

“Well, let’s hope you’re wrong, my dear Clint. Anyway … I can’t wait to see who you’ll be interviewing tomorrow. You’re going live, right? Tell us again, what time?”

“It starts at two o’clock. And I advise you to tune in. This is the only interview the band is doing before their tour starts. Here in Los Angeles.”

“Here in the studio?”

“No, unfortunately not. The band’s management wanted to prevent fans from gathering in front of the building, so we’re meeting somewhere else.”

“You heard it! At two o’clock, we’ll switch over to Clint and Nightstalker. I can hardly wait! Let’s listen to another song right away. Here’s one from the first album White Light!”

14

–––––

Iggy

José wedged his phone between his ear and shoulder. “Hello?”

“Hey! It’s me,” Andrej said from the other end of the line.

Meanwhile, Iggy, his younger brother, turned down the volume, and “White Light” disappeared amidst engine noise and street sounds.

“So, you heard it too?” Andrej said.

“Yep,” José replied, turning on his blinker.

“If Clint finds out Leaf’s back on it, this could end badly,” Andrej said, sounding genuinely concerned. But José would never turn against his oldest and best friend.

“He nailed it today,” José reassured.

“Completely wasted.”

“Without a hitch.”

Upon hearing this, Andrej growled in annoyance. “Okay, call me paranoid, but we’re totally screwed.”

Iggy pressed some buttons on the radio and searched for another station—indeed, several of their songs were playing on different channels. “Do they only play Nightstalker now? This is insane.”

“Are you in the car with Iggy?” Andrej inquired.

“Yeah.”

“Where are you guys?”

“On Alvarado heading home.”

“Is that Andrej?” Iggy asked, turning up the air conditioning and letting the cool air hit his face.

“Put it on speaker!” Andrej exclaimed excitedly. “What I have to say affects him too.”

“Put it on speaker,” José requested, prompting his brother to take the phone, switch it to speaker mode, and balance it on his knee. As they stopped at a red light, José lifted his sweaty shirt to cool off. “So, what’s up?”

“Hey, Iggy!” Andrej said. “How’s it going? Everything alright?”

Iggy glanced at José with a puzzled expression. “What does he want?” he whispered.

José shrugged.