Track 01: Asleep
Awaken my runner, my maestro, your time has come
The Composer
The bass climbs as we near the drop. I feel them in seven countries, eight different locations, and 18 million streams. We are worldwide, baby! All of them, listening to my newest masterpiece. Mixing the new Andros Arrow joint, “Remember We Were Golden” and a classic from King Kross, “Down at the Dock.”
The bass drops. I can feel the energy leap up at me when in finally happens and the crowds all over the world go wild and I’m everywhere at once. I feel them writhing beneath me. Exclamations feel like a torrential rain on my skin. They are pure electricity dancing in my veins and it feels like I’ve woken up from a slumber lasting months. Their energy is mine and they feed the whole of me.
“Say my name and bring the noise!” I command.
It’s after the set and when I finally unplug, it’s still in me, their voices, the screams, the cheers. Calling my name “MAX NOISE! MAX NOISE!” I still feel like him. Max, when I’m up there. King of all I see before me. It’s a rush. I never want to come down. Tugging the headband down from my Mind-Link XRS and wear the headphones down around my neck; black and gold. I don’t think I’ve seen a better combo. My heads-up display is still live through the contacts in my eye. Taking my headphones off, the Do Not Disturb icon appears at the top right corner of my heads up display.
I remember the commercial where I got paid, and they threw these in as a bonus. I wore Grav boots and skated upside down to show off the way the psylink can lock on to your ears, even upside down. Grav boots being the second incarnation of hover boots, mostly because not everyone liked the way they only could keep you hovering a few inches off the ground. The boots allow someone to cling to surfaces with a static adhesion. It has a cool effect in tunnels and along magstrips. One day I’m getting a pair and no one will keep me down.
As I make my way to my green room, I smile under my face mask. Barely keeping my composure and not jumping in the air, pumping my arm. Moving down the dark hallway backstage, it’s like everything melts away and only that energy was the guy who went on before me, comes out of his green room. The mask slides back into place and I allow my face to settle in. He dresses in DJ Casual with some white and black street wear that won’t have made it to our shores for another year. It’s a pretty cool look if I’m honest, with his hair matching it, which he must have generated. I think he’s the DJ Tiger White. He goes into dap me up, his tan skin interlocking with my darker skin tone. And try to fold in a new move like we’re tight. It wasn’t all that. I force myself to keep my expression pleasant. I think when I met him last year at Nightingale Fest 2035; he said something about how hard it was being Korean American and living in the US after the bullshit that went down a few years back. That almost endeared me to him but, when I was gonna add an anecdote about messed up that was when he kind of bowled all over me and asked me about where to get a drink.
“Hey there’s an after party over at Calla’s place.” He says expectantly. Noticing my expression hasn’t changed, he quickly adds. “I’d really like to finally get you out at one of these. I never see you spending time enjoying your success. You deserve a night out.” I’ve never really enjoyed this line of thought. That somehow doing the things I love even for work isn’t fun. I have always loved making music and I don’t enjoy this notion.
“I’ll think about it.” I say the vocoder in my mask, making my voice deeper. I wore the mask in the beginning when it made sense to keep my identity a secret. Eventually, it became part of the persona and I upgraded it a bit. The hours I spent making sure the pitch and the tone were right, so it sounded like a human and not like a certain samurai space wizard.
Tiger looks disappointed, but he nods and lets me past. He mutters something about seeing me around and we go our separate ways. Didn’t know he cared… I almost feel bad about turning him down, but those things aren’t my scene anymore. Or ever, really. I’m thirty and I’ve got… I dunno. I want something that feels more fulfilling than sitting around with a few people I’ve never met shooting the shit while the youngest of us hook up in the not so private corners.
My greenroom door opens, and she’s there. Misha Caldwell. Manager extraordinaire and goddess in slacks. The smile on her face is forged in a fire of dealing with music executives and talent. Her dimples shine and I’m taken in completely. You’d think by now I’d get used to seeing her but, there’s just something about Misha Caldwell.
“Hey.” And in her way, it means everything and nothing all at the same time. Like she’s expecting more, but I just say,
“Hey.”
And before I know it, our lips are on each other and we somehow stumble to the couch and trip coming apart for a moment. She smiles for real this time and we chuckle. She gets out of our tangle, straightening up her clothes. Sauntering over to the mini fridge, pulling out a beer and a soda, using the bottom of the can to open the bottle. Passing me the can, she looks me up and down.
“You clean up nice.”
“You picked it out.”
“I have good taste.”
“What’s it gonna cost me?”
She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, putting down the beer on a side table. A sigh leaves her mouth, and she looks at me straight in the eyes. The good mood and playfulness leaving her body.
“When are you gonna enjoy this, Mix?” She looks down, her finger playing in the coast of someone’s condensation circle. “You’re one of Sunspot Records’ biggest acts. Only below the likes of greats like Andros Arrow and Planet’s Core. Why not enjoy this, instead of trying to live like a broke college student?” I try to interrupt, but her eyes flash back up to me. “Why is it so hard for you to accept good things, Mix?”
“It’s not that, Misha, I just…” I get up and envelop her in my arms. “I love my life the way it is. I get to enjoy doing the thing I do best and then I get to go home to my quiet life.” Deepening my voice, my hand on her chin, bringing her face up to mine. “I get the best manager to put me on the best projects like this Mind-Link stuff.” Nervously, I fiddle with my headphones. “I know we aren’t about labels, but getting to spend time with you has been amazing.”
Misha smiles reluctantly. “I want you to go to the after party.” I sigh and fall back onto the couch, breaking contact. “It’s good for you to be seen with the people.” She collapses next to me on the couch. “No one knows who you are.” She puts her head on my shoulder. “Except me. Which is great.” She pokes my chest with her finger and begins drawing a circle. “In a whatever-we-are, but not so great in a client.”
“A whatever-we-are?”
“It fits…” She puts her legs over mine. “I’m an employee of Sunspot. It’s a bit tacky for me to be dating the talent.” I try not to let the words burn. I know what it is. Misha Caldwell doesn’t misspeak. “You can’t live your whole life in that apartment. The world is a big place, and it’s just waiting for that big personality to get out into it.”
Turning up to the penthouse and it’s wild. Calla really did the damn thing. Forget the party, the interior and exterior design are breathtaking. Everything is sharp edges and translucent to reflect the neon and colors of Electric City.
It mostly being a Lawn Party forty stories in the air, definitely is some kind of power move. The infinity pool gives me a heart attack just thinking about getting into a pool with barely any borders. I know it’s supposed to feel as if you're floating above everything, but I can’t imagine doing something like that. I feel like Misha would have loved this. Instead, she swatted me on my ass and sent me away.
Calla, being a part-time heiress and a part-time actress, spends a lot of time at raves and festivals hosted by the city. She’s like an unofficial mayor. If you want to know anything that’s happening in the city, talking to her is probably the best way to find out. You know she briefly dated Andros Arrow and even King Kross’ son before coming out. Hasn’t looked back since. I mean, there really isn’t Pride in Electric City without her.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Tiger White waves me over, his body language shows just how happy he is that I came. “Hey man- Sorry.”
“It’s cool.” I shrug. Misgendering isn’t something new and probably won’t stop here. “Have you seen the party, girl? It’s been a minute since we’ve gotten to catch up.”
“Oh, you know, Calla?!”
“She and my brother went to school together. They were never great friends.We ran into each other at a function or two. We struck up an acquaintance from there.” I look over at him. He has a strange expression on his face.”What? Did I say something weird?” He looks taken aback.
“No, it’s just this is the first time since I’ve known you for what… three years that you’ve volunteered information about yourself.” Three years, really? That can’t be true. No, he might actually be right.
“How about one more for it, then?” I chuckle. Weirdly enough, I’m actually enjoying my time hanging out with this guy. “I have synesthesia. It lets me feel the texture of music, sounds, anything really.” I put my hand out, feeling out the song on the stereos. “This song feels like… running your hand over unfinished wood. The bass that’s so heavy in it feels like the knots.”
“Oh that’s really interesting.” He taps his chin. “Do all songs have different feels?”
“Most I can fit into a few boxes, but a lot of certain genres have similar feels. When I mix though, it’s like I put similar components together and it really makes an interesting feeling.”
“Wow, no wonder your shows have such an otherworldly vibe.” He nods his head. “I’d really like to spin with you sometime.”
“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” His shows were powerful. Less House and dancehall and more thumping, kinda like the rave music that was so popular in the 90s.
After a while, we ran out of things to say. I silently take in the atmosphere. The city seems really beautiful tonight. Like it’s nostalgic and new at the same time. The dancing lights and neon glowing buildings. I still don’t understand how they did that but, it’s breathtaking at night. Even with the orange building of Sunspot Records.
“This is one of the best views in the city.”
“One of?”
“Gotta a killer view of both the bay and the ocean.”
“Oh! That does sound pretty good.” Takes a sip of his drink and we both look out over the city. The oddly companionable silence was nice. I think I might actually like being here.
Electric City is an island made at the mouth of The Chesapeake Bay and The Atlantic Ocean. It was a dream by some billionaire to bring a lot of tech and music commerce back to the South. And if he knew what it was really gonna be, I don’t think he would have ended up selling man-made Island to Sunspot Records who really revolutionized the city. Really gave music what it needed, a stage to play on. The Electric Renaissance really saved the music industry and brought artists back. Thank someone for that. Either way, Electric City is that new shit. Nightingale has nothing on us.
Calla finally sought me out after I was counting down the time until it was impolite before I got out of there. If I didn’t know any better, I think she knew when to approach. Waiting until I was ready to leave and springing on me.
“How’s it going, Mix?” Her honeyed voice comes from my right, startling me. “I can still call you that, right? I don’t have to call you by your stage name?” She chuckles at the last part.
“Of course not, Calla.” A genuine smile comes to my face for the first time at the party. “You know nothings off limits for you.” I open my arms for a hug and she squeezes me back. “I’ve missed you, kid.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not just your kid brother’s friend. I’m all grown up now.”
“Uh-huh,” I say smirking.
She punches me in my arm. It’s the first time I notice what she’s wearing, and it’s an amber-colored linen pant suit that hangs on her in just the right way. It’s perfect for a southern summer and it directly contradicts the vibe I was getting from everyone else. Plus the way it pops on her ebony skin. It’s tasteful while still being fun and that’s actually a lot different from the rave girl I saw three years ago.
“I want you to meet someone.” She gestures behind her.
“I’m already seeing some-”
From behind her comes a woman in a beautiful, fuchsia dress and a tight smile. I think she might be just as uncomfortable meeting me as I am at this party. Her voluminous honey brown curls, while probably looking nice on her, normally almost hide her heart-shaped face. She was holding close to her a supped up screen. Just a sleek black frame and hologram ports. The fact it’s made of T-metal instead of glass makes it even more expensive.
Trans-metal looks like glass, but has the durability of a tank. It’s not just bullecurls,t proof, it can deflect them if you have an angle on it. Fireproof and sheds heat like just about nothing else. They’re even used in those Reticles, psylink the military were so fond of. I don’t know what war zone she thought she was heading into, but she bought the right tool for it. If she wasn’t in such an amazing dress, I would think she was Calla’s overpaid assistant, but…
“This must be the girlfriend.” I put a hand out to shake, which seems like the vibe, and she takes it gratefully. Definitely not a hugger.
“Alicia Monte Claire.” The introduction relaxes her, putting us on firmer footing. With the speed of thought, I look her up. Everything comes up and gets consumed in the time it takes for us to finish our handshake. Alicia Monteclaire is a badass. A law attorney with some blood on her briefcase. Ten landmark cases and even one that the Supreme Court was debating in the next few months. This clashes distinctly with the person she seems to be right now.
“You just looked into me, didn’t you?” I guess my face must show my surprise because she nails me to the spot with her look. The anxiety is gone and her mouth becomes a firm line. Her posture straightens and her eyes sparkle. “You know that’s very rude right?”
I looked over at Calla to bail me out cause I wasn’t expecting this one-eighty. She just shrugs with a “You’re on your own expression.”
“Ever since people got those psylinks, they’ve gotten even more bold with doing stuff like that. That pisses me off.” I could see the fire in her eyes may not be completely directed at me, but I’m here, so the ire is mine. “When you see the defense actually looking up precedents while they’re interviewing a witness? During closing arguments? Running background AI to make sure their words are right?! Technology has ruined my profession!” I started backing up without realizing. This definitely was the lawyer that all those cases were showcasing. She is formidable.
“I seem to have really stepped in it. I shouldn’t have done that. I was worried about Calla but, with someone like you around, I don’t think I have anything to worry about.” I give my best disarming smile. “But I think the psylink is an amazing piece of tech. What were we doing earlier tonight? That wouldn’t have been possible with screens or the old net. I was in seven venues at once and receiving stimuli from multiple places, and sorted and compartmentalized. It’s done miraculous things for the world.”
Okay, I know it sounds like I’m bought in and that’s only because I am. I mean… I was definitely the right person for Sunspot Records to pick me to be their spokesperson/ marketing plant. New tech? Yes, please. I want to be on the bleeding edge. There’s so many people in this world the peripheral has already helped.
Blind people could now see with AR sight connections. Deaf people could also hear. All if they wanted, Deaf and Blind people have cultures all their own and forcing anyone to change? That would be fucked up. Giving those who wish to have those experiences that choice? That would be wonderful.
Telekinesis and levitation work that people are using at jobs every day improves safety conditions. The fact they needed multiple people just to move a pencil… was less amazing and just makes it a work in progress. We have made leaps and bounds in nearly every strata since psylinks came online 7 years ago. We’re getting closer and closer to something like a Sci-Fi novel and it means things could end up better for all people. Now, I’m not talking about a utopia, I just think there’s a chance we could create a world where we meet people’s needs.
“There’s a catch, there’s always a catch.” She says. Narrowing her eyes and straightening her posture, clutching the screen towards her. “Something is wrong with it. It gives me a bad feeling.”