7. Arik

After years of fighting to break into the mainstream, we'd done it. Within our first week, we were blowing sales expectations out of the water, and the first month was even better. Streams didn't slow our second month either. They seemed to be growing with word of mouth, which meant the label was up our asses. In the best way, but still, between classes and promo, I was barely sleeping as it was, and every day, there seemed to be something else Kiernan added to our schedules.

This was an entirely different landscape for us. Normally, we were putting out songs as fast as we could write them, playing them live to continue feeding the beast of memory. Fans moved on quickly, and small local bands without radio play were quickly erased from existence, replaced with a seemingly endless supply of up-and-coming. We kept playing shows locally, but the fans wanted more. I couldn't just drop everything and leave, even if my junior year of pre-law made me want to jump off a bridge with every class I went to.

It didn't help to watch Dopamine-Fiend skyrocket. Their new single was all over the radio, and they had a music video on MTV. Everywhere I turned, they were there. Shows. Parties. Events. TMZ was all over him and his entourage. We still talked, but less. He was busy. I was busy. I knew it didn't mean anything more than that, but my brain kept telling me he'd grow out of our friendship.

A photo from his last show popped up on my feed. We were at the bar, sitting so close, and he'd just taken my drink.

Punk4lif3: OMG look at how they look at each other.

ShipStirrer: If only I could find a man who looked at me like that.

ChasingTheChemicals: Arik is straight

ShipStirrer: Are u blind?

Did he stop hanging out with me because he thought I liked him?

I pulled my hair.

Stop reading the fucking comments.

Easier fucking said than done.

I sighed and closed out of the window. "What were we doing?"

"Huh?" Ser asked, looking up from his guitar. I didn't even know what we were rehearsing for.

"Nothing. I'm exhausted. I haven't been sleeping." I played it off, not wanting to bring Ser into any of it. He hadn't asked, and I really didn't want to talk about it.

"You've been burning the candle at both ends for months. I'm not surprised. Maybe you should take the night off." He laid his guitar across his knees and gave me his full attention.

"I have too much homework to take a night off. It's finals in a couple of weeks."

Ser screwed up his face. "Then what the fuck are you doing here?"

"The rest of the band is here." I stared at him like he had three heads.

"We are just dicking around before we have to be on that radio show tomorrow. You don't have to be here if your work is piling up." Ser's mouth twisted with concern. "You have to keep up with your studies."

"I'm going to call you Daddy if you don't cut that shit out." I shuddered.

Ser grinned slyly. "What if I'm into that?"

I fake gagged. "TMI, bro."

"Seriously, why are you here?"

"Because I don't want to do any of the piles of work I have." It felt good to admit, but I knew it would only lead to him pushing me to work on it.

"Get the fuck out of here, and go to the library." Ser got to his feet and pointed at the door. "I'm not risking your parents making you quit because you failed out of college."

As much as I wanted to argue about being an adult who made my own decisions, he was right. I'd end up homeless or sleeping on Ser's parents' couch if my parents stopped paying for my student apartment. "You don't want to be Elton John and Bernie Taupin? If we ever meet them, I'm telling them you said that."

Ser pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Go."

"Not so fast. I need you for a bit." Kiernan strolled into the room carrying his MacBook in one hand.

"What for?" I asked, sticking out my tongue at Ser while Kiernan was clicking something on his track pad and not playing attention to us.

"I have you on for this new thing they are trying. It's going to be the next big thing, so you guys need to jump on it."

"What's wrong with all the other social media we're on?" I asked, walking over to look over his shoulder.

"It's called PocketJournal. It's like an online diary. Like your wall on Facebook or, in my days, MySpace, but so much more personal." Kiernan sat down next to me to show me his screen.

"Fuck, bro. How old are you? MySpace?"

"I'm thirty-six. Shut the fuck up. I'm telling you." He tapped a few keys, and I waited for the website to load."This is more personal, and right now, when no one has attention for anything because there are ads plastered on everything and everyone is selling something, fans are going to connect with this."

"Shouldn't we just focus on TikTok?"

"You can't put all your eggs in one basket. You have to throw spaghetti at the wall and see what sticks. All that shit is so over-saturated now." He shrugged like it was up to me, but I knew it wasn't. When a label said jump, we asked how high. "You got to do both. Double your odds."

I nodded, taking the MacBook when he offered it and going through all the steps to log in. "Alright. So what am I doing?" I said after I uploaded a profile picture and then typed my bio.

"It's like anything else—you make posts and updates. But this one you treat just like a journal; it's in the name." He pointed at the screen. "Right there, you can put a title, and then write what you want?—"

"What do I write?" I cut him off.

"The guy who's written enough material for three albums asks me." He gave me a flat look. "Fans want to know you. This is new access, and they are loving it. You have to be yourself. Your personality sells music as much as the sound. Treat it like you're writing in a diary."

"Got it. So I just write what's in my head?" I wasn't so sure people wanted all of my thoughts. They skewed a little dark for polite society.

"Yes, thoughts, lyrics, anecdotes. Anything you come up with, and look here." He grabbed the MacBook and linked it to my other socials "You can add it so your PocketJournal feed links right to everything else and it will post into our Discord."

"If I am connecting them, why the fuck do I need to do both?"

"Because they will draw different audiences. Trust me, will you?" Kiernan smiled, and I was sure as a well-seasoned manager he was used to dealing with musicians."Download the app and you can do it right from your phone."

"Okay. So you just want me to make posts?" I held out a hand, not daring to grab the MacBook out of his hands.

"We have a live QA for you to join to explain it. No one else is doing it. It's a great way to give the fans direct access to you." He gave me the laptop already logged into whatever live app he was using to go live across all our socials.

"How much is your kickback for this?" I looked at myself in the screen. Huge dark circles stared back at me.

"Nothing. But I do know it's got some big investors behind it."

"If you say so." I was willing to try anything to get this thing off the road.

How the fuck did other bands keep up the momentum doing this? Every day we weren't out there promoting our music felt like another day we faded into oblivion.

"Make a first entry before the live."

I nodded, dropping my attention to the screen. My fingers hovered over the keyboard while I tried to come up with something to type.

I thought quicksand was going to be a lot bigger deal as an adult, but what if quicksand is in the mind.

We're frozen in time, waiting to thaw, waiting on the next best thing while waiting to be noticed.

We're waiting on a time and place

Forgotten space.

We forget to live.

A moment

A memory

A time spent waiting on you.

End with a life of regret.

I hit post before I could regret it or erase it.

"What's that about?" Kiernan asked, reading over my shoulder.

"Just what came to my mind."

"Are you trying to say you're lonely?"Kiernan asked. "This is why I'm not an artist."

I wrote down the phrase in my notebook before I forgot it. Maybe I could turn it into a lyric. "It's isolating being at school and doing interviews and promo from behind a screen. I want to be playing. I don't just want to be in here all day."

"You're not alone. You're with the other guys." Kiernan seemed distracted typing something into the computer.

"Not as much as I'm alone." I lifted my shoulders. "I'm glad we are playing tomorrow night."

"Are you keeping your grades up? Your parents happy? We don't want them to try to pull the plug on this when we've just got the momentum going."

"They're fine. Everything is fine."

"Can you keep up with this at school? You should be posting daily. Actually, all of you should be posting daily until you leave for Warped. We have to keep up fan engagement until the tour. This is a big time for you guys. We need those sales to keep hitting." Kiernan clapped his hands together. "Got it?"

I nodded, but it all felt like a weight and an obstacle holding me back. Keeping me in college.

"Every day?" I asked, getting out my school planner. It was half ripped, with pages torn and dog-eared, but it was the only way I remembered when anything was due. I grabbed the pencil from behind Ser's ear and licked my finger to flip through the pages and find the right date. I'd have to set an alarm too.

"Yes, daily. They are talking about sending you on your own tour after Warped with the way your album is doing. We have to show them you're serious."

I nodded, seeing another note I'd left myself. "A couple of those radio interviews screw with my class schedule."

"You're going to have to ditch. We can't have our frontman missing from the album promo. This is part of your contract with the record company. We have to do it."

I nodded, not sure how I was going to explain this to my teachers. ‘Sorry I'm not taking Impact of Globalization seriously, I have to go on the radio.' ‘I know I've missed three Game Theory lectures, but don't worry, I'll get notes.' It just didn't work like that. Maybe it would have with basic hundred-level shit, but this wasn't fucking around. I was supposed to be competing with every kid for one of the few spots in T14, and the pressure was unbearable.

Something had to give, and all I cared about was Varian coming to our show.

"Time to get on the live. Chop chop." Kiernan took the planner out of my hands, replacing it with the MacBook again.

I'd just started answering questions when a new screen name popped into the comments.

ChemicalSmuggler has joined the chat.