The next day I left early to meet Mr. Moran at a recording studio in Waterfall City. I never did mention anything about Waterfall City did I?

Before we go on, I'll tell you a little bit about this great city.

Waterfall City is set down halfway down the Polongo River and is the country's main center of culture and learning. It is a hotspot for the country's artists and craftsmen who go to take advantage of The Great Library, The Musician's Inn, The Concert Hall, and the many museums and galleries. The noise and mist generated by the waterfalls are so powerful that they are a constant presence in the city's atmosphere.

Outside the waterfalls, the most prominent feature of the city is The Great Library. It's a colossal building on the northern end of the city. It holds thousands of scrolls, and manuscripts and books that date back from tens of millions of years.

Another great feature is a great dome; a massive representation of the Earth. It's on the southeastern side of the city above a large spillway of the canal network. It houses a water-powered helicoid geochronograph. It is the oldest measure of time in Amarkia; the first clock ever made in the country.

This helicoid geochronograph combines the concept of linear and circular time, demonstrating that while there are cycles in life, time goes on. The clock tower is no normal clock that goes by the normal numbers base on the movements of the sun but in fact base on the concept of a linear and circular time on the cycles of life. It is powered by the flow of the water which is from the network of waterways in Waterfall City which pushes the water wheel which in return make the whole clock function.

Because of its setting, water is a big part of life in the city. Canals—that rival those of Venice in complexity and architectural beauty—run efficiently and smoothly through the city. There are many fountains along with gardens, theaters and observatories.

In the northeastern side of the city, there is Aqua Stadium. Below this huge structure there are caverns which can be viewed through windows in the stadiums lower levels.

And the climate is different than that of Sauropolis, even though it's only a seventy-minute drive away. While Sauropolis a humid continental climate, Waterfall City is a tropical-like city, and is right next to the Rainy Basin, the largest system of tropical forests and swamps in the country.

That's pretty much it. Now, where were we?

Oh, yes! The recording studio. We got there at around ten in the morning. I met the guy in charge there and after talking about my voice for a while, I got to choose few songs for my first album.

"Now," said the guy in charge, Mr. Something-or-another, "Before we begin, I would like to discuss your contract."

"Ah, yes," I said. "I brought my lawyer along for that."

"Very well. He can come to review it."

I called out for my lawyer who was waiting outside the recording room. He walked in, tripping over things. "Huh? Who? What? Who am I killing?"

"Calm down, Larry." Yeah, that's right. Larry is my lawyer. He's one of the few lawyers in the world who is truthful and successful. And although he doesn't really lie, he's really funny when he's defending me. He acts like Perry Mason.

"Yeah? What is it?" said Larry.

"My contract, Larry. You are my lawyer. You have to review it so that you can be sure it'll be the best thing for me."

His eyes widened. "Oh, yeah! That's what I do. I thought all I was supposed to do was shout at prosecuting witnesses, and say 'I object!'"

I resisted the urge to even roll my eyes. "Never mind that, now. Just look over the contract." He nodded and walked over to the table and picked up the contract in his hands. Then he started to thoroughly analyze it. He looked at it for such a long time that I thought he was asleep with his eyes open. I mean, the way he stared at it was…I don't know. Creepy. Weird. It started freaking me out.

I nudged him. I guess I scared him, 'cause he screamed and threw the contract. And he did it so suddenly that I screamed and jumped a little too. He shook his head. "Sorry." He looked at Mr. Something-or-another. "May I speak to His Majesty alone for a minute?"

The man shrugged. Then he stepped out.

Larry looked at me. "Well, this just says that a certain Mr. Dred Murphy will be your manager and press agent and that you will be under a 2-year-contract and will travel worldwide."

I stared at him. "Travel worldwide? Just two years? Tell me you're kidding!"

He laughed. "I'm kidding. Relax, Spiny. You gotta chill."

I let the air out of my lungs. "Larry! I hate you!"

"I hit you too!" Know what he did? That fool actually hit me. Punched me right in the face! He does that every time! Every time I say, "I hate you," he always says, "I hit you, too," and hits me.

Anyways, while I was rubbing the spot where he'd hit me, I said, "So, what does the contract say?"

"Oh, it just says that you'll have a press agent, a booking agent, an unlimited time span recording at this station, and that you'll be your own manager and you decide when to do concerts, travel, or record new albums. It also says you own all the copyrights to all your songs and performances and you own the patents and that he can't use you in any promotion of products without your permission."

"Any conditions?"

"Nope."

I stared at him. "You're kidding me. There's no way any guy would make such a good contract for me."

His eyes swiveled from one side to another. "Well, it is a good contract. It basically says that you're in control of everything and you'll have a manager and all those people, but you say when you want something done and they have to be ready and be committed. Sort of Drop and Listen To Spiny thing. You know?"

I smiled at that. I'd probably be the first teen singer not to be exploited financially or physically by his manager. I'd be in charge of everything. And the law would be on my side. And plus, only an idiot would dare try set a hand on me. Like who, you might say? Well, plenty of people and organizations are trying are have tried to kill me. Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, Mao Zedong, Benito Mussolini, Fidel and Raul Castro, Al-Qaeda, ISIS, Boko Haram, Kim Jong-un, Russia, Ukraine rebels, Egypt, Iran, Syria, Amarkian rebels, oil companies, anti-environmentalists, etc.

A big list of idiots, right? And do you see any of them having success? Of course not. So why should a music manager be any different? The worse thing he might do to me might be cursing and swearing.

Anyways, why was I thinking like this? I should be thinking positive.

Well, I thought all this over for a long time. I paced back and forth in the room. I don't know if I've said this before, but my mind works better when I pace. It just speeds up my thinking. Makes me think and make decisions more clearly.

Ten minutes went by before I stopped pacing and stood in front of Larry. "Call him back in."

Larry stood up and opened the door. "He's ready for you!"

The same man walked in, but also with someone else. It was another man. He appeared to be in his late 40's. Had black hair with some gray at the temples. Clenched jaw, tight face, dark gray eyes, and long thick arms. Kind of scared me to be truthful.

"Your Majesty, this is Mr. Dred Murphy."

HUH?! This guy was going to be my…now, hold it! Just wait a minute! I'm not saying that I'm a coward or anything, but I was not going to pursue a music career with a thug like that as my manager. He reminded me a lot of those big, bad gangsters of 1920's or 30's.

The ruffian…uh, I mean, Mr. Murphy stuck out his huge hand. And in a deep voice that sent shivers all throughout me he said, "It's going to be a pleasure working with you."

He shook my hand and—OW!—almost broke it. And I said, "Likewise, sir."

Then, the other guy said, "Well, here's your contract. Have you thought about it?"

I looked at Larry and he gave me an assuring look. Well, I said to myself. What do I have to lose? Then I said, A lot. A whole lot. Oh well, nobody said being a successful singer was a walk in the park.

I exhaled and still with jitters in my stomach, I said in my most confident tone, "I've decided to give this a try."

And without furdor ado, I leaned over the desk, grabbed my fountain pen, opened it, and like a giant machine carrying cement, I spread the wet black ink over the two dotted lines, making it into the shape of my name and my signature.

Well, that's that. Now what? Mr. Murphy grabbed the contract, looked it over, and, satisfied, smiled to me. "Well, I really do hope that our association will last for many years to come."

I didn't really know what to think, so all I said was, "Of course." I still wasn't sure I completely trusted this guy.

Well, it was done and over with, at least. We agreed to meet in two days to discuss the contract with the recording company and start producing my first album. Heh. I was kind of excited at the idea of my picture on a music CD. Selling millions of copies worldwide. Music stores so packed that they have to close early and some even go out of business. Okay, not that far. That's never good for anyone.

Anyways, later that day, after work and all that, at the dinner table, "Hey, Spiny?" said Robert.

"What?"

"Can I borrow some money?"

I looked at him. He's asking me for money? He's only 12. "What do you need money for?"

"Well….my friends and I like to play card games and board game and stuff like that. Plus, I want to buy a special leather jacket I saw on the market."

"You sure it's not the black market?" said Kathy, half-joking.

Robert made a face and said, "That's not funny!"

"Come on, you guys. Listen to what I say!"

Patty tapped the spoon against her glass cup. "Quiet everyone! The Head of the Family is going to speak." Then she smiled at me and said, "You have the word, Spiny."

I nodded and said, "Thank you." Then I said in a louder voice. "I got a contract with a recording company and I'll start producing my first album soon."

"Wow! That's awesome!" said Robert.

"That's neat, Spiny!" said Greeny.

"When do you start recording?" said Kathy.

"Next week, I think. He should it should be finished and ready to sell by the end of the month."

Patty took out her notebook. "Can I get your autograph?"

I laughed. "Later." I ate another piece of chicken strips coated in Alfredo sauce. "But," I said in a very serious tone. "This is just between us as a family. No one else is supposed to know. They can't know until the release date."

"In the name of our Family, our lips are sealed," said Patty.

Well, after dinner the boys and the girls went to finish their homework and study while I went out for a walk. I wanted to get some fresh air before I started all that hard work. In a matter of weeks, I would be on my way on being a celebrity.

I walked all the way to the park and back around three times. When I finally got back, it was dusk. Maybe around 6:30 pm or so. Give or take a few seconds. Maybe some milliseconds. Anyways, I stopped and looked at the Wood's front yard, and there was Lilia in a stripped T-shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap. She was doing something in her garden. She had gloves on and was…I don't know what. I don't know much about gardening.

She saw me and smiled. "Hi!" She stood up and walked over to me.

I smiled back. "Hey. What you doing?"

"Oh, just some yard work in my free time. How about you?"

"Oh, nothing just walking."

She nodded, saying, "That's nice."

"Yeah," I said.

I looked down, sensing a very awkward feeling in the air. "Um, what have you been up to? I mean, with all this at work and the music thing I haven't been to school lately and don't really know what's going on."

She laughed. "Well, nothing much. The boys' soccer team is having a game against Wood Harrier Middle School in two weeks, I think. Um, the cheerleading team is having new auditions for new members. There are rumors that the principal might get a wig and the preparations for the 8th Grade Graduation Dance are already underway."

"Heh. So I haven't missed much, then?"

"No, not much."

She suddenly looked very interested. "So how did it go with the music thing?"

How does she know? "Did Kathy tell you?! Really, if she did I'm going to…"

"No, she didn't. Larry did."

LARRY?! He didn't even know until I told him at dinner. Then it hit me. Why, the rotten little spy! He followed me like a panther in the shadows and…..oh, wait. He had to know. He reviewed the contract for me. He was there. He was supposed to be there. My bad.

"Oh…yeah, he's my lawyer and he reviewed the contract for me."

She clasped her hands together in front of her. "Oh, it's all so exciting! You'll be doing your first album soon! Oh, you'll be a star. You'll be singing at concerts, parties, making music videos, traveling, getting offers…" Then she looked kinda down.

I tilted my head, like I do when I'm curious, confused, or surprised. "What's wrong?"

She looked up at me, and even though she was smiling, her eyes were shining. Was she going to cry? "Oh, nothing. It's just that…..with work, school, and now your new music career, I guess I won't be seeing you that much. Kinda makes me sad."

I smiled and said, "Oh, come on! Of course you'll be seeing me. I would never do anything to jeopardize my friendships and family."

She looked at me, as if waiting for me to go on. So I did. "You'll see me just as often as you do now. I promise. Look. I have two main priorities in my life. My family and my friends. Those two things are more important to me than anything else. And you're a very good friend of mine."

She was blushing and smiling. "Oh, thanks."

"You know, I've never told you this, but…" I stopped short. I didn't have the courage to say what I wanted to say.

"What?" she said.

"Nah. Forget it. Not important."

"No, please, tell me!"

I shrugged and smiled nervously. "Well," I said, running my fingers through my hair. That's what I do when I'm nervous. I sighed and said, "Well, nothing really. Just that you're one of my best friends. And that you're pretty and smart and funny and I enjoy being with you a lot. And that…you're very cute when you smile."

She looked at me. She was smiling. "You think I'm cute?"

I looked down at my feet and fidgeted. Then I looked at her. Right into her beautiful brown eyes. "Yeah, I do."

There was a long silence. We just stared at each other. "Thanks," she said quietly. "I think you're really cute too."

I felt my face burn again. A lot of girls had said that to me. A lot. I mean hundreds. But none of them made me feel this way. My stomach turned into a nest of butterflies. Huge ones. My heart was pounding so hard I think she heard it.

She stepped closer until her face was only inches from mine. My entire body froze, as if in a trance. My throat closed up and chills ran up and down my back. My mouth went dry and my palms got sweaty. When she put her arms around me and pulled me closer, my body went rigid, as if made of metal or ice. Dang, dang, dang! She's so close. She's looking at me so hard that I can see my reflection in her eyes.

In a quiet voice so soft that it wouldn't be heard if a bird was flying close by, she said, "Spiny, I…I want you to know that I…" I jumped at the softness in her voice. She was so close that I could feel her words in my face.

Heh. Weird thing was that, all this was happening to me, but I didn't feel uncomfortable or awkward at all.

Next thing I knew, I started to make my move. I pressed my forehead against hers and the tip of our noses touched. I exhaled lightly, which instantly made her blush. She closed her eyes and her lips parted. My throat had never felt so parched in all my 11,201 years of life.

I closed my eyes and before I knew it…..