making any new directional moves until I know for sure this is what God wants me to do.”
“Uh-huh.” Harold kept typing. “You’d be a fool to give this up. And to sit in a lab? Boy, you’re crazy.”
“Crazy or not, if I can’t come up with any songs for this new album, that’ll be a huge sign.”
“I ain’t worried,” Harold mumbled.
Brian picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He wished he could say the same. The noise and activity of the other artists swirled around him. Beforehand he’d enjoyed meeting and talking to the others and praying in a circle with the sponsor organization. A local pastor, Dr. Mason Lyles, had led the prayer. Brian could see Dr. Lyles across the tent now—he’d hoped to get a chance to talk to the man before he left.
He pulled out his phone to check his messages and was surprised to see a text from Aaron, a grade-school friend.
IN TOWN FOR WKEND. I KNOW YOU’RE THE MAN AND ALL, BUT HOW ABOUT MEETING A BRO AT FIVE GUYS FOR DINNER?
Brian smiled. He hadn’t seen Aaron in more than a year. He sent a quick reply.
“Brian?”
He turned and saw Nicole, editor of a popular online gospel magazine. He’d sat down with her earlier for an interview, and she’d shadowed him the rest of the day. “Hey, Nicole,” he said. “Been watching the performances?”
“Absolutely. You were amazing. I’d never heard you in person.” Her eyes danced as she looked at him. “I hear you all are going out tonight.”
Brian quirked his brow. “Nah, I’m actually headed to meet—”
Harold raised a finger at him, half listening to their conversation, half in his own on the phone. He brought the call to a close. “Actually,” Harold said, phone tucked in his hand, “we’re planning to grab a bite, then check out Club Stratus.”
“All right, cool,” Brian said. “Have a good time. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
“Excuse us a minute,” Harold told Nicole. He pulled Brian a few feet away. “You’re going too.”
Brian frowned. “You know I’m not into clubbing. Anyway, I’ve got plans.”
Harold shook his head. “You got to.”
“What do you mean—‘got to’?”
“Look.” Harold glanced over to make sure they were out of hearing range. “From the vibe I’m picking up, Nicole likes you. She’s the one who asked what we were doing tonight and whether we could all hang out. Wouldn’t hurt, if you know what I mean.”
Brian couldn’t believe what he was hearing. And yet . . . he could. “What do you mean, Harold?”
Harold leaned in closer. “Nicole’s got one of the hottest online trade magazines. Imagine the kind of press she’ll give you if you flatter her with some time tonight.”
“You’re serious.”
Harold grew exasperated. “Yes, Brian, I am. Hop aboard the real world.” He paused, letting a smile ease onto his face. “You should be jumping all over this. You’re a hot-blooded male, aren’t you?” He cast a glance Nicole’s way. “Look at her.”
Brian stared at him a moment, unsure what to do—not about tonight but about the weeks to come. Did he need to end it now? And could he end it, given they had a contract?
“I’ll talk to her,” Brian said finally.
“And say what? You’ll go, right?”
Brian approached her. “I’m sorry, Nicole. My manager wasn’t aware I had plans tonight. I appreciate all your time today, though. Can’t wait to read the article.” He gave her a smile.
“I hate to hear that,” Nicole said. “I was looking forward to getting to know you a little better, but I understand. Maybe another time.” She pulled out a business card and wrote a number on the back. “That’s my personal cell. Call anytime.”
As she passed Brian the card, her attention was diverted to someone behind him. “Dr. Lyles,” she said, moving to greet him, “what a pleasure to meet you. Nicole Armor.”
Brian stepped aside and watched them shake hands.
“Nice to meet you, Nicole,” Dr. Lyles said.
When she had moved away, Dr. Lyles put his arm around the young guy standing with him. “Forgive the intrusion, but we’re about to leave, and my grandson just had to meet Alien and get a picture with him.”
“No intrusion at all,” Brian said. “I was waiting for the chance to meet you.” They shared a laugh. “Hey, man, what’s your name?” Brian bent a little, putting an arm around him.
“Justin.”
“How old are you?”
“Twelve. I know all the words to every song on your album. I even got one of your mix tapes and