6. Trying to Figure You Out: Eryx

CHAPTER 6

TRYING TO FIGURE YOU OUT

ERYX

L ights flashed and swirled, painting the stage in a dizzying array of colors. Eryx could feel the beat pulsing through the floor, up through his feet and into his very bones. This was what he lived for – the rush of performance, the connection with the music, the anticipation of sharing it all with an audience.

But even as he lost himself in the rhythm, a part of Eryx remained hyper-aware of his surroundings. His gaze drifted to the side of the stage, where Brad paced back and forth. Brad's phone was pressed tightly to his ear, his free hand gesticulating wildly as he engaged in what appeared to be a heated conversation.

He'd been harboring suspicions about Brad for weeks now – little inconsistencies, odd behaviors, moments where something just didn't quite add up. The man was an enigma wrapped in a designer suit, and Eryx was determined to unravel the mystery.

"Alright, people, that was great!" The director's voice boomed through the hall, snapping Eryx out of his reverie. "Take five, and then we'll run through the finale one more time."

As the stage erupted into a flurry of activity – dancers stretching, techs adjusting lights, band members tuning instruments – Eryx made his way over to where Brad and Richard stood huddled together.

Richard flashed him a megawatt smile as he approached. "Eryx, my man! That was incredible. You're going to blow the roof off this place on opening night."

Eryx grinned, bumping fists with the fellow musician. "Thanks, Rich. Couldn't do it without you guys backing me up."

Brad, who had finally ended his mysterious phone call, turned to face them. His expression was a carefully constructed mask of professional enthusiasm, but Eryx caught a flicker of... something... in his eyes. Worry? Frustration? It was gone too quickly to tell.

"Gentlemen," Brad said, clapping his hands together. "Shall we go over the final details? We're in the home stretch now, and I want to make sure everything is perfect."

They made their way to a quiet corner of the backstage area, where a table had been set up with plans, schedules, and various documents spread out across its surface. Eryx leaned against the edge, his posture casual but his senses on high alert.

"So," Brad began, pulling out a sleek tablet, "let's start with the setlist. Eryx, are you still good with the order we discussed last week?"

Eryx nodded, running through the song lineup in his head. "Yeah, I think it flows well. Opening with 'Starfire' should get the crowd pumped, and ending on 'Rebirth' feels right, given the charitable focus of the event."

Richard chimed in, his enthusiasm infectious. "Oh man, 'Rebirth' is going to be epic. The way we've arranged it with the full choir coming in at the bridge? Chills, man. Absolute chills."

We've got you booked for three radio interviews, a TV spot on morning television show, and a livestream Q&A with fans," Brad was saying, his fingers flying across the tablet's screen. "Oh, and Richard, your team reached out about doing a surprise duet during the show. What are your thoughts on that, Eryx? "

Eryx grinned, shooting a playful glance at Richard. "I'm game if you are, superstar. Think you can keep up?"

Richard clutched his chest in mock offense. "Keep up? Please. The real question is whether you can handle this much raw talent on one stage."

Their banter was interrupted by the sound of Brad's phone buzzing insistently. The manager glanced at the screen, his expression flickering for just a moment before smoothing back into its usual impassivity.

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I need to take this. Why don't you two work out the details of that duet? I'll be right back."

As Brad stepped away, phone already pressed to his ear, Eryx and Richard exchanged a look.

"Is it just me," Richard said, lowering his voice, "or has Brad been acting kind of weird lately?"

Eryx felt a surge of validation at Richard's words. So he wasn't the only one who had noticed. "Yeah, I've been getting that vibe too. Any idea what's going on with him?"

Richard shrugged, his usual carefree demeanor tinged with concern. "No clue, man. But whatever it is, it's big. I've known Brad for years, and I've never seen him this on edge."

Eryx nodded, his mind racing. "We should keep an eye on him. I've got a feeling there's more going on here than just pre-concert jitters."

Richard opened his mouth to respond, but the booming voice of their choreographer cut through the air, calling everyone back to their positions. With a quick, meaningful glance at each other, Eryx and Richard rejoined the organized chaos of the rehearsal.

As Eryx took his place center stage, he caught sight of Brad slipping out a side door, phone once again pressed to his ear. The seed of suspicion that had taken root in Eryx's mind began to sprout, tendrils of curiosity and concern reaching out.

Eryx took a deep breath, centering himself as the opening notes of "Starfire" filled the air. He let the music wash over him, his voice rising to meet the soaring melody. For the next hour, he lost himself in the performance, his body moving in perfect sync with the dancers, his voice blending seamlessly with the backing vocals.

It wasn't until they called for a water break that Eryx remembered to keep tabs on Brad. He scanned the crowded stage, looking for his manager's familiar silhouette. There – by the sound booth, half-hidden behind a stack of speakers.

Eryx casually made his way in that direction, snagging a bottle of water as cover. As he drew closer, snippets of Brad's conversation drifted towards him.

"...don't care how you do it, just find them," Brad's voice was low, urgent. "We're running out of time... No, you don't understand. If they're not located before... Yes, I know it's dangerous, but we have no choice. The consequences if we fail..."

Eryx's heart rate kicked up a notch. Find who? What consequences? He edged closer, straining to hear more, but at that moment, Brad turned, catching sight of him. The manager's face smoothed into its usual professional mask so quickly that Eryx almost doubted what he'd just witnessed.

"Eryx! Great work out there," Brad said, his voice jovial as he ended his call. "That new choreography for the bridge of 'Nebula Dreams' is really coming together."

Eryx plastered on a smile, his mind whirling. "Thanks, Brad. It's all starting to click. Hey, is everything okay? That sounded like a pretty intense call."

A flicker of something passed behind Brad's eyes. "Oh, just some last-minute sponsorship negotiations. You know how it goes – everyone wants a piece of the pie."

Eryx nodded, not believing a word of it. "Right, of course. Well, I should get back. Richard wants to run through our duet again."

He would investigate Brad, but he'd do it smart. The concert preparations provided the perfect cover – a whirlwind of activity where his constant presence wouldn't raise suspicion. He could observe Brad up close, maybe even snoop around a bit when the opportunity arose.

Eryx threw himself into both of his roles with equal fervor. He belted out power ballads and perfected complex dance routines, all while keeping a watchful eye on Brad's every move.

He noted the way Brad's phone seemed to buzz more frequently than usual, the tightness around his eyes when he thought no one was looking, the hushed conversations with venue security that seemed to go beyond normal concert logistics.

Through it all, the energy of the upcoming concert thrummed like a living thing. The excitement was palpable as the team worked tirelessly to bring Eryx's vision to life. Elaborate set pieces were assembled and disassembled, lighting cues were fine-tuned, and costume fittings ran long into the night.

Richard, ever the ball of enthusiastic energy, bounded up to Eryx during a brief lull. "Dude, this is going to be epic! I've been thinking about our duet – what if we added a bit of crowd interaction? Get them to do a call and response thing during the chorus?"

Eryx grinned, momentarily distracted from his covert mission by his friend's infectious excitement. "That could be awesome. Maybe we could have the lights sweep over the audience during that part, really make them feel involved."

As they brainstormed ideas, Eryx felt a familiar warmth spread through his chest. This – the creative collaboration, the shared passion for music and performance – this was what he lived for. It was a stark contrast to the undercurrent of suspicion and secrecy that now colored his interactions with Brad.

The final hours of rehearsals stretched before them, a marathon of fine-tuning and last-minute adjustments. Between sets, however, Eryx was all business. His eyes tracked Brad's movements like a hawk, noting every hushed phone call, every furtive glance. During a quick water break, he "accidentally" left his bottle near Brad's makeshift office, giving him an excuse to linger and eavesdrop.

"Hey, Brad," Eryx called out casually, sauntering over to where his manager was hunched over a laptop. "Have you seen my – oh, there it is."

As he bent to retrieve his conveniently forgotten water bottle, Eryx's eyes darted across Brad's screen. Email headers, snippets of text – anything could be a clue. But Brad was quick, minimizing windows before Eryx could get a good look.

"Careful there, superstar," Brad said, his tone light but his eyes sharp. "Wouldn't want you straining something before the big show."

Eryx straightened, flashing his most disarming smile. "No worries. I'm like a cat – always land on my feet."

As he walked away, Eryx's mind raced. He hadn't seen much, but one phrase had jumped out at him: "extraction team status." What the hell was Brad mixed up in?

The afternoon flew by in a whirlwind of activity. During one particularly grueling dance rehearsal, Eryx used the chaos of bodies in motion to study Brad without being noticed. His manager stood off to the side, engrossed in what looked like a heated text exchange. Eryx watched as Brad's face cycled through a range of emotions – frustration, worry, and finally, a grim determination.

Before he could ponder it further, the choreographer's sharp voice cut through the air. "Eryx! Focus! This is the climax of the show, not naptime!"

Eryx snapped back to attention, flashing an apologetic grin. "Sorry, got lost in the music for a second there."

As he resumed his place in the formation, Eryx couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. He was letting his investigation distract him from the very real, very important work of preparing for the concert. People were counting on him – the charities they were supporting, his fans, his team.

The entire team gathered on stage for a final full run-through. He poured every ounce of himself into the performance, his voice soaring to new heights, his body moving with fluid grace through the intricate choreography. Around him, the band, dancers, and crew all worked in perfect harmony, creating a tapestry of sound and light that left everyone breathless.

As the final notes of "Rebirth" faded away, there was a moment of stunned silence. Then the room erupted in cheers and applause. Eryx found himself engulfed in a group hug, Richard's booming laugh in one ear and the choreographer's excited chatter in the other.

Even Brad, usually so composed, looked genuinely moved. "That," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "was incredible. You should all be very proud."

For a moment, Eryx almost forgot his suspicions. The look in Brad's eyes was so sincere, so full of pride and affection for the team.

As they began to pack up for the night, buzzing with the high of a stellar performance, Brad cleared his throat. "Before you all head out, don't forget – we've got press waiting outside. Just a quick statement about the show, nothing too in-depth."

Eryx nodded, straightening his shirt and running a hand through his hair. Show time – in more ways than one.

The blast of camera flashes hit them as soon as they stepped outside. Eryx blinked, momentarily dazzled, before settling into his media-ready smile. Beside him, Richard waved enthusiastically while Brad maintained his usual professional demeanor.

"Eryx! Over here!"

"Can you tell us about the concert?"

"Is it true you're planning a surprise guest appearance?"

The questions came rapid-fire, a cacophony of voices vying for attention. Eryx held up a hand, waiting for the clamor to die down.

"Thanks for coming out tonight, everyone," he began, his voice carrying easily over the crowd. "We've just wrapped up our final rehearsals, and I can honestly say this is going to be the show of a lifetime. But more importantly, it's going to make a real difference for the charities we're supporting."

He went on to highlight some of the organizations benefiting from the concert, with Richard chiming in to share his excitement about their duet. Brad, ever the smooth talker, fielded questions about ticket sales and VIP packages.

As the impromptu press conference wound down, Eryx felt a familiar itch between his shoulder blades. Someone was watching him – and not in the usual fan or paparazzi way. He scanned the crowd, trying to pinpoint the source of his unease.

There – a figure lurking at the edge of the gathered press, partially hidden in the shadows of a nearby building. Eryx caught a glimpse of a face that seemed oddly familiar, though he couldn't place it. Before he could get a better look, the figure melted away into the night.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Richard's arm thrown around his shoulders. "Alright, team! I think this calls for a celebration. Drinks at O'Malley's?"

There was a general murmur of agreement from the assembled crew. Even Brad, usually so quick to beg off social gatherings, nodded his assent.

"Sounds great," Eryx said, pushing his concerns to the back of his mind. "First round's on me."