June, 2020: Warning: Unedited. Low quality.

COUNTING STARS

Chapter 10: Manager

Wednesday, October 18

My eyes lethargically open, the air stinging them as they yearn for more rest. Groggy, I check the time on the clock next to my bed; it's only 8:05. That gives me less than two hours before school starts at ten.

I yawn quietly before giving into temptation and shutting my eyes again, rolling over to the pile of pillows next to me.

For a while, I'm content.

Until I remember that I don't have a clock at my beside, and I don't pile my pillows up on my bed.

This ain't your room, genius.

My eyes snap open, and for a brief moment I just see the color yellow. I blink several times, clearing my blurry vision.

Yellow… No, gold… No, blonde.

Blonde…

Zelda!

I mentally shriek like a little girl and pull my face away from Zelda's hair, cringing in trepidation for the awkwardness to follow. I breathe a sigh of relief, however, when I notice that she is still sound asleep, lying face-up beside me.

Phew.

I relax, shoulders sagging, then carefully remove myself from Zelda's bed. Thinking back to the events of last night, I realize something. I really should leave.

Sleeping with a girl while still in the friend zone would earn a gold medal from Pipit—but I didn't sleep with her in that way. And if I did, I'd be her boyfriend. And if not her boyfriend, I'd be Pipit: a player.

What soon comes to mind and worries me is that Zelda may believe that last night was an advancement in our relationship. It could have been, but that's not how I view it. I view it as a warning: keep this up and you'll only end up hurting her.

I can't let that happen.

So I reach down into my pack, withdraw a pen and paper, and write:

Sorry Zel, had to take off. Can't be spotted leaving the girls' dorm in the morning, can I? That wouldn't go too well with your father. Hope you feel better anyway. —L

With a huff, I set the note down on her nightstand, give her one last look, and turn to leave.

I silently creep out the door, closing it softly behind me. As I do so, I tell myself, We could both just use a little space. But I'll talk to her again. Definitely.

But Zelda and I didn't talk for four whole days.

"Mikau."

"Mmnhh…"

"Mikau," I repeat, nudging him.

"Hhhnnnmm…"

"Come on, talk to me."

"Eurghhghhghhhunnhhh…"

"Dude!" I grip the boy's dark hair and lift his head up from the tabletop at the lounge. "Get up."

"No," he grumbles curtly.

I turn and fix Pipit with a puzzled expression. "What do we do?" I ask him.

"Sit back, kid. I've got this." He lifts his chin, then moves past me. "Hey, bud. You okay?"

"Go away."

"I've got something that'll cheer you up," he coaxes tantalizingly.

With a huff, Mikau sits up in his seat. His eyes are baggy, bloodshot, and vacant-looking. "If it's anything other than alcohol, I will smack you."

He blinks. "…Even if it's tickets to see Morpha at Odolwa Center?"

Piqued, he stares at him. "I'm in Morpha, you idiot."

Pipit's mouth forms an O-shape. "Damn, that's right, I knew that was someone familiar. Sorry, dude, I forgot."

Mikau shakes his head disdainfully, then returns his face to the table. "Lulu quit… What's the point in even performing anymore…"

Pipit scoffs. "I can name a ton of points. Record labels, celebrities, fame, girls, money, girls flashing you while you're performing, all the sex—" He pauses, looking over at me. "Gods, I wish I were in a band."

"I don't have any of that yet," Mikau's muffled voice retorts negatively.

"And you never will if you don't go perform."

"Mnnngghhhh."

Thursday, October 19

"Man, how are we gonna cheer up Mikau?" I ask my friends at our lunch table. "He's been absent for two days now."

"We could get him a hooker," Sheik chimes.

I shake my head. "We can't afford a hooker."

He smirks, unrolling the magazine he had stuffed in the crook of his arm. "Sure we can. Look what this magazine says: hookers, forty percent off!"

I squint. "You carry that around with you? What kind of magazine is that?"

"It's Guy-Rule Times."

"What's he so upset about?" asks Fledge from the end of the table.

"Lulu dumped his ass," Sheik explains solemnly.

"Then she quit Morpha," Mido adds.

"She quit?!" Darmani bellows, eyes widening. "But music is her dream! Mikau's, too!"

Sheik sighs. "I know. And right after they got a gig at Odolwa Center."

I squint. "What's that?"

"Odolwa Center?"

"Yeah."

"It's this place downtown that showcases tribal art, or something. They have a concert hall that holds around two thousand people. That's where Morpha's supposed to play."

"If Mikau nuts up, that is," Pipit remarks snidely.

"When do they play?"

"Next Friday, the twenty-seventh."

"That's only eight days away," I muse aloud, biting my lip. "Guys, we need to get Mikau back in this thing."

"How?" Mido asks helplessly. "He's been at home, buried in his bed."

"Maybe," Sheik says, "we could replace Lulu with another co-lead singer, who could fill in all her parts!"

"I'm pretty sure Mikau already filled in all her parts," Pipit jeers with a suggestive smirk, "but yeah. Good idea."

"Can anyone here sing?" I ask the group.

No one raises a hand.

"Well, let's ask them," Fledge suggests, motioning toward the table of girls next to us. Understandably, Lulu is missing from it.

"Okay."

We all stand up and shuffle over to their table. "Do any of you," Pipit begins, "perhaps, know how to sing?" Midna, Zelda, Karane, Saria, Ruto, and Malon's eyes all shift over to us.

We raise our eyebrows hopefully.

"…Why?" Saria asks with a slight hesitation.

"Because Morpha's playing next Friday, and I'm pretty sure you all know that Lulu quit. Our buddy Mikau needs another lead singer."

Malon scoffs. "So you guys are asking us to replace our friend in her ex boyfriend's band to help him out?"

We blink.

"No dice, boys," Midna rebuffs with a careless shrug.

"C'mon," Mido argues, "Mikau's your friend, too!"

"Not anymore, he isn't," Karane retorts. "He broke our girl's heart."

"Actually," I chime, "Lulu brought it up first."

"How do you know that?" questions Malon.

With a hesitant shrug, I explain, "I was there when it all went down, hiding behind a vending machine."

"Why were you in our dorm building?"

I blink, biting a lip. "…I was visiting someone."

Everyone squints, except for Zelda. "Um," Ruto begins, eyebrows raising, "who?"

My eyes involuntarily flash to meet Zelda's for a brief moment, then I return them, hoping no one notices.

Someone does.

Ruto's eyes widen, and while keeping her gaze locked with mine, she raises a finger and points at the blonde sitting across from her.

"Wait, is this why you didn't come home last night?" Sheik asks, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

I hear nine dubious exclamations of "What?!" all at once.

I grab Sheik's arm and walk away, tossing over my shoulder a hasty "Okay, we'll be going now!"

The rest of the guys follow after us. "You slept with Zelda?"

"High-five, dude!"

"How was she?"

"How soft were her—"

"Guys! Damn, be cool. We didn't have sex," I explain, avoiding the phrase 'sleep together', in case anyone were to get technical.

"So where were you last night?" Sheik asks.

"…At Zelda's."

"And you didn't sleep with her?"

I heave a frustrated sigh. "…Technically I did."

"You're confusing me, bro," Darmani grunts.

"I slept… next to her."

They stare at me.

I stare back.

You can literally hear the crickets chirping.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Pipit flicks me on the forehead. "You dumbass!"

"Ow!" I complain, glaring at him. "What the hell?"

"You had a chance to make your move on Zelda and you blew it!"

I sigh wistfully, remembering how awesome that night was. Looking over to Zelda's table, I see her covering her face with her hands as her friends bombard her with questions, who send me the occasional curious glance.

I look back over at Pipit, shrugging helplessly. "What can I say? I told you from the beginning: I don't want a girlfriend."

But I'm starting to think that may be a lie.

Sunday, October 22

The following few days passed by in a blur. I didn't see Dark; there was no need for me to hit the town with him. The city has been strangely crime-free for a bit. Sure, there'd be the occasional siren, but it'd always pass after a short time.

School's been relatively easy on me. I've taken to completely ignoring Masca and Minish—Sheik's advice—and instead, I've been focusing on my academics. Mikau still didn't show up to school; Nabooru, our math teacher, questioned his absence with concerns about his lagging grades.

Shad called twice. The first time, on Friday, he informed me that Ghirahim and Vaati were on trial. Their attorney, Veran Black, who is a suspected M.O.D. member, was making quite a good impression on the jury. Yesterday, he told me that they were sentenced to a mere thirty days in juvie. They'll surely come for me when they're out.

So today, here I am, sitting alone in my dorm room, glaring contemptuously down at the sketch art of Ganondorf Dragmire. Yet, my mind wanders elsewhere. I think of Cia, the leader of the Y.U.G.A., and the deal she and I struck. The truth is, I've been stalling; I'm skeptical, regarding the plan. I wonder if I am able to accomplish such an immense and courageous task. But then I think of my uncle.

And I know I am able.

My solemn thoughts are interrupted from a knock at the door. "Come in," I call, not bothering to get up from my seat.

The door opens. I turn to see Zelda, offering me a sheepish smile as she stands in the doorway. "Hey," she greets meekly.

"Hey," I reply.

She closes the door behind her, joining me at my desk. "That's him?" she asks, gesturing toward the sketch art.

I nod, meeting the drawing's intense, perpetually unblinking eyes. "Sure is."

"He looks scary," Zelda comments idly.

I shrug lightly. "He doesn't scare me. Just infuriates me, that's all."

She fixes me with a saddened look. "This thing means a whole lot to you, doesn't it? I mean, you could be spending years chasing after something that possibly can't be caught."

"Kinda like that harp of yours, huh?" I say with a smug grin, despite my mood, while recalling Zelda's goal of getting that golden instrument down from the tallest tree in Castle Park.

She smiles warmly, asking, "You remember that?"

I nod, meeting her glimmering eyes. "Yeah, I do."

Zelda smiles to herself, looking downward.

Another knock comes at the door, interrupting our brief awkward moment.

I eye Zelda hesitantly, asking, "Should I…?"

Zelda merely shrugs and says, "Sure."

"It's unlocked," I call.

The door opens. "Wow, you let me come in without checking who it is first?" asks Midna, eyebrows raising, lips curved into a smirk. "How trusting. I could've been a serial killer."

"You don't know me too well. I could be a serial killer too, and you just walked into my room."

"You?" She scoffs. "Please. You're too nice."

I raise an eyebrow, grin wickedly, and touch the pads of my fingers together. "Aren't they all, though?"

"You're freaking me out now, kid."

Zelda and I laugh as Midna shuts the door behind her, plopping down emphatically on the couch. "So am I, like, interrupting anything between you two?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

She turns her head to eye us. "I mean, Zel, were you about to hop on the Link Train again, and y'know, take a ride downtown?"

Zelda's face flushes as she sputters frantically, "M-Midna I told you that we didn't do that!"

"We really didn't," I assure her.

Midna scrutinizes the two of us skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, likely story. Anyway, um, I came here for some advice."

"Why not see Malon?" Zelda asks. Malon must be the wise one of the group, I infer.

Midna closes her eyes stressfully, heaving a sigh. "That's the thing, though… I can't. And you'll see why if you let me vent."

"Okay, Mid," says Zelda, "spill."

"I think I'm in love with Sheik."

The crickets are back again, chirping away, as Zelda and I stare at Midna incredulously with wide, unblinking eyes.

"Yeah…" I say after a while, clearing my throat awkwardly, "…maybe not going to Malon was a good call."

Monday, October 23

"She's in love with him?" Zelda asks me dubiously as we walk to lunch, side by side. "How can she be in love with him? I swear, she has a freezer for a heart that pumps ice through her veins!" She sighs, ponders for a moment, then shrugs. "But coolest girl in the world, I love her to death."

I laugh. "I've really never noticed it. I've been hanging with Sheik for a long time now, and she didn't meet with him probably more than once."

"Well, think about it," Zelda says. "He's her best friend's boyfriend. It would make sense that she'd stay away from him."

"I hate love triangles," I mumble.

She looks at me bemusedly, smirking. "What do you know about them?"

I smile. "Back at Ordonia when I was… eleven, I think, my friend Ilia had a huge crush on me. I didn't feel the same, but I was still polite. My best friend Talo, who was nine at the time, really liked her, though." A small laugh escapes my lips as I remember the days we used to spend together back at the village. "But yeah, nothing good came out of that. Talo and Ilia both got pretty sad, and the three of us didn't talk for a whole month."

"I hope that doesn't happen to them."

"Me neither," I agree.

From behind me, someone taps a forceful finger on my shoulder. Zelda and I turn to see Ralph, in all his redheadedness, glaring daggers at me with a sour expression on his face. "Hello," he regards us coldly. "A word, please, Link?"

I glance at Zelda, shrug sheepishly, then turn back to Ralph. "Sure, dude." I follow Ralph as he turns the corner and we bank into a hall.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demands, waving his arms desperately.

"Um, standing here… not yelling like a madman."

"We had a deal, remember? You would teach me to interact with others so I could charm Zelda! And now I catch you chattin' up my lady?"

I scoff at him. "Zelda was never mentioned as part of our deal, Ralph. Plus she's not your lady."

His face turns rosy in growing anger as he sputters out, "W-why, you… rapscallion!"

"Not helping out your cause," I say quietly and mockingly under my breath.

"I'll have you beat, Gaiden," he grumbles threateningly. "Mark my words. If I do not get chosen by the fair maiden, so be it. I will make you a fool before her. A fool!"

"Whatever, Ralph," I tell him, patting his shoulder. "Class dismissed."

I shoulder past him and make my way down the hall. When I round the corner, though, I'm surprised to see Zelda still there, waiting for me; I expected her to leave. "Hey, sorry," I say when I join her again.

"It's fine," she assures me. "What did he say?"

I shrug. "Ehh, something about Pipit."

"I would think so."

"Oh, by the way," I say, grabbing her attention, "speaking entirely hypothetically… can you, by any chance, sing?"

An understanding smile stretches across her lips. "Oh, I see what this is. You want me to sub in for Lulu in Morpha. That's the reason you came here to talk to me in there first place, isn't it?"

"I happened to think of that just now, but it definitely isn't the reason."

"Sure," she responds skeptically. "Then what's your reason, Link?"

I shrug, admitting with a shy smile, "I like talking to you."

She sighs, matching my smile with one of her own. "Well either way, you're a good friend."

"It's my best quality," I jeer, grinning.

"To answer your question, though," Zelda begins, "I like to think that I can sing. But I am terrified of performing, even if it's for my friends."

"So two thousand people isn't your cup of tea."

"Not exactly."

I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. "Okay. I can't force you to sing, so I guess I'll have to find someone else."

"Maybe I can try to talk Lulu back into singing," she says. "I doubt it'll work, but hopefully she won't screw up her dreams of becoming a music star over a bad breakup."

"Hopefully," I agree with a nod. "…Thanks."

"Yeah," she replies. "I'll see you in Mascara's class."

"Hey, that name spread?" I ask hopefully.

"Sure did." She sends me a smile as she leaves, before turning to join her friends at their table.

Tuesday, October 24

I watch with amusement as Arian and Leo attempt to tinker with the chemicals in the test tube on Mr. Masca's desk. He had left to use the restroom, giving us students valuable time to find our youth again and screw around like sixth graders.

"Just pour the bubbly stuff into the yellow stuff," Arian urges, handing Leo a pair of tongs to handle the glassware.

"What if it blows up in my face?"

"With a face like yours, who cares."

I sit with Darmani and Pipit, idly watching Leo threaten to pour the chemicals on Arian's head, and ask them, "Have you guys heard from Lulu recently?"

"Well," Pipit begins, sighing, "she called me up to try and make Mikau jealous, but being the good friend that I am, I declined." He nods gallantry. "After a little hand stuff of course."

"That didn't happen," Darmani refutes matter-of-factly.

He sighs in defeat. "Fine, you're right. It was tongue stuff."

Darmani rolls his eyes. "So how're we gonna get Lulu back in the band, man?"

"I don't know," I admit, shrugging hopelessly. "Zelda told me she'd try to talk her into it, but I'm still unsure. Maybe Mikau's just going to have to change his songs so he has the only vocals."

"Either that or Evan, Japas, or Tijo will have to sing," Darmani mutters to Pipit. "That won't go too well."

"Who are they?"

Darmani squints at me. "You've never met them? They're in Morpha. Evan plays the keyboard, Japas plays bass, and Tijo drums."

"Ah. Not the best singers?"

"Let's just say I'd rather be forced to listen to constant Katy Perry."

Wednesday, October 25

"Two days. We've got two damned days."

"I know."

"And Lulu is still locked up in her room."

"I know."

"And no one found a replacement for her."

"I know."

Mikau sighs, putting his hands to his face. "I guess there's only one thing to do." He looks at me. "You're gonna have to sing with me."

I scoff, shaking my head. "Um, no can do, bro."

"Why?"

"Because usually bands want their performances to be good."

Mikau cracks a smile, his first one since the breakup. He's actually been making decent progress in the moving-on process; he had come back to school on Monday, and he even checked out a few attractive sophomores. Massive strides, in my opinion. He's done better than Lulu, I can tell you that. "You think you're not a good singer?" he asks me, eyebrows raising.

I shake my head. "No, Mikau. I know I'm not a good singer."

Mikau squints, eyeing me suspiciously. "I'll bet that if you try it, you'll be surprised."

I shake my head stubbornly, disbelieving him. Then, curiously: "Why do you say that?"

With a meager half-shrug, he smirks. "From a singer's perspective, I can tell that you have a nice voice."

Unsure how to respond to such a peculiar compliment, all I can do is raise an eyebrow and look at him weirdly, shifting uncomfortably on my dorm couch.

"Have you sung much to know that you're a bad singer?"

"Look, Mik' Mill," I say, "you're one of my best friends and all, but I wouldn't even sing in the shower if I was the last known life form on the planet—no less in front of two thousand people."

"It's actually closer to nineteen-hundred…"

My eyes narrow.

"Fine," he drawls, hanging his head so his jet black hair billows down toward the floor. "I guess I'll have to cancel it."

"No!" I exclaim, placing a hand on his shoulder and roughly shaking him back and forth. "You can't! This could be your big break!"

"If it is our big break, do you know how shitty it'd feel to not have Lulu with us?"

"Well, that part you can't control," I tell him, sighing. "If she realizes her mistake, then she'll return and you'll all become famous together. But if she doesn't… that isn't worth your time."

He turns his head to look solemnly at me.

"It's time to focus on you, Mikau. Don't let Lulu's absence ruin your dream."

"You're right." A small smile twitches onto his lips. "Thanks, Link."

I nod.

"So," he huffs, gripping his knees with his palms, "I guess I have to get rid of all the duets."

"How many songs does that leave you with?"

He closes his eyes, counting in his head. "I believe that leaves us with…" He opens his eyes and looks at me. "…Four."

I blink. "Damn."

"I know. I'm totally screwed." He looks at the floor hopelessly, appearing completely lost.

"Maybe I can help you pick some new songs," I offer.

He scoffs, commenting sarcastically, "Yeah, okay."

I squint. "I'm serious."

"I appreciate it, Link, but you live out in the sticks. We don't play your redneck music."

Glaring, I reply, "I live here, Mikau, not the sticks anymore. And we don't listen to redneck music." Although, Mikau has a fair point. I can still remember the haunting lyrics of Fado's folk song on the trip to Castle Town...

"Fine. Let me hear it."

"First let me know your band type."

He grins. "We play a wide variety of songs, ranging from classic, current, and alternative rock," he explains with a flow that suggests he's practiced this speech. "Occasionally we will throw in a pop song, if it fits with our band style."

"I'll take it you rule out some classic rock, like Aerosmith." I point to my throat, referring to Steven Tyler's raspy voice.

He chuckles. "Don't expect me to lose my voice mid-concert while singing Dream On."

"Noted." I grin. "How do you feel about Pink Floyd? The Red Hot Chili Peppers?"

With a shrug, he admits, "Not sure. Play me a sample."

I go into my smartphone's music library, playing him the song Under The Bridge. The sweet tune of acoustic guitar fills the room, and Anthony Kiedis' voice sings softly:

'Sometimes I feel

Like I don't have a partner…'

"Sounds nice so far," he comments. "Too bad I don't have his accent." We keep listening, Mikau bobbing his head rhythmically, until he nods at me. "I like it. I'll add it."

"Good." I flip through my songs until I find a more recent song. "How about this song from OneRepublic." I press play, and a softer acoustic tune rings out.

'Lately I been, I been losing sleep…

Dreaming about the things that we could be…'

"I like this one too."

After a few more songs, I look at him smugly. "So. About this 'redneck music'."

"Okay. I was wrong. I'm sorry." He smiles meekly. "You saved my ass."

I nod. "Damn straight."

Thursday, October 26

The unremarkable, diminutive grocery store sits meekly between a dominant retailer's towering headquarters and a three-story department store. To all the passersby on Market Street, the tiny grocer seemingly escapes their vision.

Meanwhile, I stand across the street, shrouded in the alley's darkness, staring determinedly at the front doors. The white, florescent light spills out through the glass and onto the sidewalk, flickering on occasion. There, inside those doors, was where I first met Ganondorf.

Before I left, I knew that my chances of meeting him again at the exact same location would be slim. But during my outings, I always follow the sound of sirens—and if none are heard, I just follow my own feet. Tonight, this is where they took me. The place where my life took a hundred-eighty-degree turn.

I throw on my cap, completing the outfit Dark had given me the last time I've met with him, more than a week ago. I decide to call it quits and head back to the academy, too depressed to hunt tonight. But as I take my first few steps, I hear a thud and a quiet grunt, then a husky voice.

"I am getting impatient, Hero."

I turn around curiously. A few yards away stands an incredibly muscular man, wearing a thick bulletproof vest underneath a red tee. Black war paint streaks across his eyelids and over the bridge of his nose, and jutting down on each cheek in fanged patterns. A gray knit hat sits on his head. His baggy, dark jeans, ripped at the knees, hang down to his red, Air Jordan high-tops.

J's? Really?

"State your name," I assert, lifting my chin sharply.

His piercing yellow eyes lock with mine beneath my mask. "Volga."

I mentally go through the list of M.O.D. members I have heard of. His name is unfamiliar.

I wait for him to say something. When he doesn't, I grunt, "What do you want?"

"On Cia's orders, I have been looking for you for over a week." He smirks. "If you have gone back on your deal, it is my duty to bring you to her."

I shake my head, raising a hand. "At ease. I have not."

His lip twitches; perhaps he wanted to try and capture me. I note the large weapon strapped over his back, hand tingling in warning.

Volga strokes the blonde stubble at his jaw, gaze falling to the pavement. "I see. What progress have you made?"

"I will handle it," I respond curtly, turning around.

He clears his throat, halting me. "I asked you a question," he says, a hint of hostility in his voice.

"I am aware of that," I toss over my shoulder. "You do not need to know, as I do not trust you."

"I am on direct orders from Cia. I have to relay this information to her."

"I do not trust Cia yet, either." I turn to throw a glare at him before starting to walk away. "Goodbye."

"Maybe we do not trust you!" he shouts, clenching his fists.

I roll my eyes, turning to face him fully. "I don't need your trust," I spit. "You're criminals. I can do this myself if I have to."

"You are a criminal, too. Do not deny it."

I smirk. "The criminal of criminals, maybe." Turning around, I leave him seething with anger.

As I exit the alley and jog briskly down the sidewalk, my eyes drift up to the sky. A tiny star, hanging over my head in the night sky, twinkles brightly when I flick my gaze up to meet it. I lower my eyes, careful not to knock into any pedestrians as I run, and smile to myself.

Hi, Rusl.