“Father once spoke of an angel. I used to dream he’d appear. Now, as I sing, I can sense him, and I know he’s here! Here in this room, he calls me sof… huh?”

Ranko turned, pulling her headphones off and dangling them around her neck in response to a tap on her shoulder. “What’s up?”

“They’re ready for us, Ran-chan.” Crash motioned to his friend, coaxing her to follow him back down the stark, white-tiled hallway to the boardroom on the sixth floor of the Yokai Records home office.

The redhead nodded, reaching down to the Discman clipped to the wide, sparkly black belt looped around the waist of her beige corduroy tulip skirt and pressing its stop button. “‘Bout time.” Smiling with a contented sigh as Crash put his arm over her shoulders, left bare in the strapless red peasant shirt she wore, she leaned into his torso as the pair walked into the deep, cramped room. Hugs are awesome. Probably one of my favorite things about my life now. So many hugs.

Around the long mahogany conference table that dominated the room were seated the other six members of the Dapper Dragons, as well as five young men Ranko didn’t recognize, all in business casual button-down or polo shirts. Ayama Uyehara, the band’s representative from the Yokai Records team, was seated at the far end of the table in a sleek black silk business suit and a bright yellow blouse. Ranko took her seat at the near end in a leather wheeled office chair, Crash sliding into the one to her immediate right.

“Okay,” Amaya began, “So, first thing we wanted to cover today is the…”

Shinji raised his hand, an almost accusatory tone in his voice. “Sorry, but before we get going, who the hell are those dudes?”

Amaya scoffed at the bassist’s interruption. “As I was saying, Shin, the first thing we want to cover is the new guys we’ve added to the team for the tour. Boys?”

The five young men stood, as did Amaya. She motioned first to a pudgy young man, probably in his late twenties, with a scruffy patchwork of a beard and a pair of square wire-framed glasses. “This is Masaki Tabata. He’s going to be your lighting tech for the show.”

“Wait a minute,” Ariel exclaimed, an air of offense in his voice. “I do the lights and stuff! What the hell, Amaya?!”

Amaya gave him a reassuring wave of her hand. “Don’t worry, Ariel, you aren’t being replaced. But, for a show this size, asking you to handle both the audio and the lighting effects is a lot, so Masaki’s gonna be helping you out. You’re the boss, and he’s an extra set of hands to run the boards during the performance. Plus, he’s certified in pyrotechnics and has a lot of experience with other practical stage effects, so we think he’ll be able to really help punch up the presentation.”

“Aw, rad! We’re gonna have pyro!” Ken clapped his hands excitedly, either not noticing or not minding his lead vocalist groaning into her palm to his right.

Ariel nodded his assent, giving the newcomer a skeptical once-over with his eyes. “Well, alright. Look forward to working with you, Masaki.”

“Masa, please. And yeah, me too, man! We’re gonna put on one hell of a show,” the technician replied with a confident nod and an eager grin.

Amaya gestured with an open hand to an enormous, dark-skinned American in a royal purple polo shirt that strained to contain his pectoral muscles. His head was shaved clean, and a diamond stud sparkled in his right earlobe. “Lance Riker…”

“Jesus Christ, look at that guy,” Jacob whispered to Crash in English. “He’s bigger than you and me put together! Who the hell pays to feed that dude?”

“... and Norio Anzai.” Amaya swept her hand to the right, indicating a lankier Japanese boy with bright orange hair. He wore a pair of blue jeans with ballooning wide legs that were probably four sizes too big for him and a worn sky-blue polo shirt. “They’ll be your roadies.”

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“Sorry, what’s a roadie?” Ranko raised her hand sheepishly, blushing with embarrassment at her industry naivete.

“I pick things up, I put things down,” Lance stammered, embarrassment in his eyes.

Amaya chuckled. “Lance is a former member of the United States Navy, who served in Okinawa until last year. He’s still working on his Japanese a little bit. Sorry about that.”

Ranko turned to the young man, smiling disarmingly and addressing him in English. “Welcome to the Dapper Dragons, Lance. It’s really good to have you.” The redhead watched a wave of relief wash over her new teammate’s face as he was addressed in his mother tongue.

“Thanks so much! I’m so excited to be with you guys, Mrs. Tendo. I really love your stuff, and it’s just such a huge honor to be a part of your show. I promise, I won’t let anything go wrong on this tour for you,” Lance replied, a gentle spark in the giant’s eyes.

Ranko nudged Crash through his plain white tee shirt with her elbow, whispering to him in Japanese with a giddy grin on her lips. “I like this one.”

Amaya gave a nod. She really had taken a liking to Ranko, despite all of the challenges they’d had in convincing her to toe the corporate line. “Roadies are basically your helpers on the tour, Ranko. They’ll handle a lot of the setup and teardown of the stage, make sure the equipment gets from point A to point B, all that logistics work. They’ll also help with things like running errands, security, stuff like that. Basically, they’re there to manage the minutia, so you can focus on the music.”

“Holy crap. We get assistants?!” Ranko blushed, expanding her fingers on either side of her head in a my mind is blown gesture. “You guys do know that I’m a waitress, right?”

Amaya smiled warmly with a shake of her head. “Not anymore. You’re an award-winning recording artist on an international tour. Welcome to the big leagues, kiddo.”

“Sanyo Arima,” said a handsome man of twenty-two who declined to wait to be introduced, flashing a winning, and almost cocky, smile across his square jaw. The black-haired man crossed his muscular arms over the chest of his emerald-green button-down dress shirt.

“Well, hello,” Hitomi purred, giving Emi an excitedly wide-eyed smile with a bit of a blush behind it.

The last unnamed man gave a nervous wave. He was quite a bit taller than Sanyo, but slighter in build, a shock of blond-highlighted hair zig-zagging through his black flat top. “Hey, everybody. I’m Utaru. Utaru Tsuchida. Hi.” He slipped his hands into the pockets of his gray slacks, bouncing a bit on the heels of his black loafers. “Good to meet you all.”

“Utaru and Sanyo will be your new backup dancers, Ranko.” Amaya retook her seat at the head of the table. “Plus Emi and Hitomi, of course. You’ll be working on larger stages than you’re used to performing on for most of these shows, and we don’t want it looking empty with just the three of you moving around. Plus, having a few more bodies will give us some more interesting options for choreography.

The songstress nodded, slumping back in her chair. “Welcome, guys. This is just… wow. I didn’t expect… all of this. I figured we just, throw Crash’s guitar in some bubble wrap, get on a plane, and away we go.”

“I told you it was gonna get serious now, Ranko. We’re doing this shit for real.” Crash nudged his friend’s bare shoulder with his fist gently. “You ready, girl?”

“Not remotely, but I guess we’re doing it anyway,” she replied with a nervous chuckle.

“You bet your ass we are,” Ken said through a victorious grin, rubbing his palms together excitedly.

Amaya smiled, turning the page in the black leather-bound day planner on the table in front of her. “Now. As for the set list. Obviously, this is up for discussion, but just as a starting point: how do you feel about leading off with Witchcraft? It’s doing really well in radio play right now.”

Ranko shook her head. “No way. We gotta start the show with Demon in Your Radio. It’s just, something about dropping the lights to black, and Shin’s laugh, just lets the people know, shit’s about to go down, ya know?”

“Fair enough. After that, I’m thinking maybe Sneak?” Amaya sipped at her water bottle, sitting back in her leather chair. The seat made a little squeak as she adjusted her weight.

With a devious smirk at her new backup dancers, Ranko shook her head again. “Actually? Take Sneak off the list entirely for now. I’ve got a crazy idea…”