"I want you to understand clearly that if I were to accept the contract, and it's still a big 'if,' there would be conditions to meet."

It struck me as odd that Rue had asked Andy to switch seats with her so she could sit next to me. Nobody wants to sit in the middle seat. The plane is uncomfortable enough as it is.

"Okay, what conditions?"

Her dark eyelids narrowed. "I'm not dropping out of school. Whatever commitment the band requires, my studies will always come first."

"Okay, deal."

Her expression remained guarded. My brain hadn't managed to tune out the background hum of the engine yet; we hadn't been airborne for very long. Despite this, Rue's voice easily overpowered that buzz: "Number two: we won't get involved in any unethical business. If we ever produce merchandise, I don't want a child in Bangladesh sewing our T-shirts."

"Fair enough."

"And if we were to really make it big, I mean REALLY big, I want half of the band's proceeds to go to charities of my choosing."

I shrugged. I guess when you're REALLY rich, at some point, you don't even know what to do with the money anymore, so whatever. "Okay, anything else?"

Rue slumped back in her seat. "You're insane. Find yourself another bassist and call it a day. There are plenty of talented ones like me."

"That may be true, but I don't want just anyone as talented as you. I need you. We all need you. You're like... our Wendy."

Rue raised an eyebrow and held it up for so long that I was sure it must have been hurting her forehead.

"You're incredible." She huffed and motioned for Andy to be ready to switch seats again. "It's things like this that make it impossible for anyone to say no to you."

Nobody can ever say no to me? But if I was surrounded by people who always said no to me!

Andy resettled next to me, immediately snuggling onto my shoulder, all curled up like a hedgehog.

"If my arm starts tingling, I'll wake you up."

"If you wake me up, there will be consequences."

Hmm. Vague, but menacing enough.

I managed to crane my head enough to read the time on the screen on the airplane wall. Another hour, and we'd be there.

With every minute bringing us closer to Toronto, I felt the impending end of this chapter of my life. Whatever had happened, things were about to change again. Irreversibly.

I had to try to stay focused on what needed to be done. We would arrive, do some rehearsals, get on stage, and win. Oh, and Lucas and I had to beat up those two bastards. Specifically the groper. The younger brother was more of a bonus.

I waited for Andy to truly dump all his weight onto me. I watched his breath carefully to make sure he had dozed off, and I began the slow procedure of untangling myself that I had perfected during a childhood spent with a cat that liked to sleep on my stomach.

It took me five minutes to free myself, but eventually, Andy was peacefully snoring, curled up against the leather armrest.

I stood up and leaned over the seat in front of me. Jeremy tilted his head and removed one earbud. Lucas was sitting there, his mouth slightly open and his head resting against the headrest.

"He's so cute when he sleeps." I smirked.

Jeremy kept staring at me without saying or doing anything.

I hugged the top of his seat and rested my chin on it. "Am I allowed to make jokes about me and your boyfriend fooling around yet?"

Jeremy leveraged the backrest to turn towards me. Long, motionless seconds passed as he just stared at me. When his lips curled into a smile I had never seen before, I started sweating cold.

"Those earrings give you a very feminine look, little brother."

"Wow, okay. You could have just said no."

"What's up, Drake?"

"Well, now I'm afraid to ask. Are you planning to kick my self-esteem where it's most fragile again?"

"Depends. Is your question about Lucas?"

"No."

"Then you're safe."

Geez, what a touchy guy. I thought he had made peace with this whole thing with me and Lucas, but apparently not.

"I need you to find those two guys. Those assholes who messed with Andy. I'm told they live in Toronto. Can you find them?"

"I know their names, the name of their band, the city they live in, and I know they drive a black Tesla. I think even a blind kid could find their address."

"I really annoyed you with that little comment about your boyfriend, huh?"

Jeremy slipped the earbud into his ear and turned back to sit up straight.

...

We had to call three Ubers to transport everything and everyone from the airport to the Danforth Music Hall in Toronto. Me, Rue, and Alex got out of the last car dragging various bags and cases. We joined the others on a narrow sidewalk pulsating with people. Each of us was loaded like a pack mule. I proceeded with the guitar on my shoulder and a duffel bag full of all my belongings.

"Why the hell are there so many people? Weren't there supposed to be only three finalist bands?"

"Exactly." Lucas replied, pointing to our destination further ahead.

It looked like a 1930s movie theater. It was a low building, just two stories tall, with a gigantic neon sign arcing over the entrance. On the pale panel, rows of black letters gleamed:

Fourth Edition of the Annual Charles Competition Finalists: 

IDEAL ASYLUM

THE NOTHING CLAN 

RESTART

Seeing our name under the word "finalists" gave me a thrill of excitement. We made it.

We made our way through the crowd, squeezing past the throng of cell phones, cameras, and even a couple of big TV cameras.

I passed a guy who, after exchanging a glance with me, shouted, "That's Drake Fulmer Who-Will-Make-His-Name-In-Music-History!" I'm pretty sure he was poking fun at me for that time I acted like an idiot in Winnipeg, but hey, he remembered my name! That alone was enough to give me the energy of ten espresso shots.

When we finally managed to cross the threshold of the entrance, we were greeted by a floor covered in plush red carpet and a smiling Amelia in the center of it.

Our future manager congratulated us on making it there, vigorously shaking each of our hands and putting a badge on each of us with the word "finalist." She also passed out two "escort" badges for Andy's parents and one for Jeremy, and prepared a fourth one in anticipation of Sophie's arrival. Then she ushered us up the stairs to show us our accommodations, where we were supposed to freshen up, grab a bite to eat, and be ready in twenty minutes for an interview.

That last part, apparently, didn't surprise anyone except me. Damn it, I really should have read that email.

In our room, there were no beds, only three giant sofas as long as buses, a table set up like a banquet, and posters of some of the most famous albums in history hanging framed on the walls. I didn't really have time to enjoy the luxury of our huge room. We barely managed to stack our luggage in a corner and plug in the amplifier, when a boy with sunglasses and freckles came to collect us and push us out the door like a shepherd dog with his herd.

The boy asked our escorts to wait outside and ushered us into a room illuminated by a million neon lights and a camera mounted on a massive tripod.

The bespectacled, freckled boy gestured for us to proceed quietly and take seats on a row of plastic chairs pushed against the wall. On the other side of the room, facing the cameras, there was a nice pink couch with four men stacked on top of it with beards and hair grown out for a post-apocalyptic future.

Next to the guy controlling the camera, a woman was reading a warm welcome from a folder full of printed instructions. Nearby were the two guys who had proposed the contract to me and Lucas at the third Winnipeg selection.

One of those sitting on the couch, the one who looked most like a Viking ready to shoot the kind of porn I would gladly watch, cleared his throat and thanked the competition producers with a very deep voice.

We proceeded quietly to the chairs, where three girls already seated smiled. Rue was the first to reach the last available chair, taking a seat next to one of the girls and greeting her as if she knew her.

"What did I miss? Who are they?"

Andy turned back with both eyebrows raised to his forehead. "Our contenders. The guys are Ideal Asylum, and the girls are The Nothing Clan, we met them in Victoria, don't you remember?"

Sure, why not. Indelibly etched in my mind.

"Wow," Lucas whispered once he sat down next to me. "Those guys over there look like the Hemsworths' illegitimate brothers, and the girls are all tiny and cute like Korean idols. I wonder what the connection runs between these groups. Probably the quality of their music."

I pretended not to hear him. I didn't need to be reminded how opposed he was to that thing. I remembered, I remembered it constantly.

The Ideal Asylum vacated the couch and made room for the girls. During their interview, my phone vibrated with a new notification.

Judge: Good luck.

I thanked her and didn't mention the fact that all the time I had been at her house, she had tried to hinder my music. Maybe we would talk about it, but not now. Then, since I had some time to kill, I opened the contact list and changed her name to Mom.

When it was our turn, the interviewer had a small chair brought next to the couch and asked us to change seats twenty times before she was satisfied with the result.

Lucas ended up alone on the chair, Andy immediately next to him at the end of the couch, with his arm in a cast at the center of the frame, and Rue and I were squeezed at the end on meager cushions.

"Welcome to the final of the fourth edition of the Charles competition. Congratulations for making it this far," The woman pointed to Lucas behind the camera to indicate who should speak.

"Thank you, we're very excited to have reached this point," Lucas replied with a perfect smile.

"Restart caused quite a stir in the last selection. Your guitarist issued a challenge to all the competitors on live stream, but neither he nor your drummer were seen at the performance."

The woman gave the floor back to Lucas, who glanced at me briefly before answering. "Drake is an exuberant guy. Anyone who has seen him play knows he doesn't exaggerate, he's a great guitarist and he's right to believe we can win the competition."

"Just before the last performance, I had a little accident," Andy continued, ignoring the interviewer's directives and causing Isaac's face to curl like a bulldog. "Drake took me to the hospital, so we couldn't participate. Fortunately, we left our performance in good hands, Rue and Lucas alone managed to surprise the judges."

"And this little incident continues to give you some trouble," the woman remarked, nodding to the cast on Andy's arm. "Have you found a replacement for the drums?"

"No replacement. These are the members of Restart and we don't need anyone else," Andy offered no further explanations. When they saw him play the drums with one arm, no one would talk about anything else. Sure, in the end I had to significantly simplify his part, but it would still be impressive to see.

The interview ended a few questions later. They asked us where we were born and how we got into music. The woman gave me the floor a total of two times, and both times she cut me off immediately to let someone else continue.

I tried to repeat to myself that it didn't bother me. But, come on... It was me who had made a scene in Winnipeg, right? Wasn't I the one who doubled the views of the stream? The interviewer could have given me two more seconds of airtime.

We left the room and followed our freckled boy back to our room, where a short, chubby woman was chatting with Sam and Alex.

The woman watched us flow through the door, and when Rue entered the room, a big smile appeared on her round face.

"Mum!" Rue jumped forward until she hung on the woman's neck. Rue was taller than her mother, angular where her mother was curved, and she hadn't inherited her olive skin or her narrow eyes.

"You've arrived! You've arrived!" The last time I saw Rue so cheerful, she had been heavily intoxicated by a bottle of vodka.

"I'm here." Sophie chuckled, hugging her daughter. When they parted, the woman's eyes scanned each of us one by one and stopped on me. "And you must be Drake," she said, tilting her head as one does with small children. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

I stuttered out a uh, um, yes, nice to meet you, which the woman found very amusing.

"You and Jeremy really look alike."

Feeling called out, Jeremy got up from the mammoth couch and came over to me. He stood shoulder to shoulder with me, and I wasn't sure if he just wanted to be included, or if he stood by my side because he thought I needed defending.

I didn't know this Sophie, I had no idea what kind of person she was, and whether it was a good idea to live in her house, under her care. Rue liked her, but her only other parental reference was Spaghetti guy, so she could have a very low judgment bar.

"Thank you," I replied vaguely uncertain. Should I thank someone for saying I look like my twin brother? Or should I just take it as a statement of fact?

"I want you to know that there's room for both of you in our house. You can comfortably finish school and then think about your future calmly."

"Thank you," Jeremy replied without any inflection.

"But it may not be necessary," I intervened. "I mean... if we win we could do whatever we want. We wouldn't even need to finish school."

Sophie made that annoyed parent expression I had come to know on Stephanie's face. She was about to say no, it was better to finish school anyway, but Jeremy cut her off with a sharp and definitive: "We appreciate your generosity, Sophie."

It became clear that Jeremy had no intention of saying more than that, which was probably sensible and judicious; so Sophie nodded with a strained smile, allowing us to leave that conversation.

My brother dragged me away by the arm, leading me to the sofa/continent.

"What's the plan, exactly?" I whispered.

"The plan is not to burn bridges when you don't know if you'll need to cross them."

I didn't want to cross that bridge. I didn't want to see Andy and Lucas board a plane to New York, while Jeremy, Rue, and I stayed behind in Canada, spending another stupid year in another stupid high school. That was a future I didn't want. We had to win. At any cost.

"Jeremy. You need to convince Lucas," I blurted out before I knew I would say it. "He needs to sign that fucking contract. Listen, there are conditions you don't know about..."

"I know the conditions. Lucas told me," he replied. "And you're an idiot."

"Maybe you're right, but I'd rather be an idiot than have my life messed up again. With that money we could all move to New York, or take Andy and Lucas with us somewhere else. You don't want to be separated from them either, I know. Please... I'm sure Lucas will listen to you. At least more than he would with me."

Jeremy just stared at me without saying anything.

At the end of that silence, he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "It's the address you asked me for."