You wake up to the sound of your phone vibrating on the bedside table. The room is too dark and the walls too quiet--you already know it's not your bedroom. [[Look around]] [[Pick up your phone]]You see the faint outlines of the usual suspects: the obligatory TV, the minibar, the "complimentary" snacks. Maybe a few months ago it would have taken you a few seconds to realize you weren't at home, but the yearlong tour has embedded the feeling of starchy white linens so much into your subconscious that it seems your brain no longer expects you to wake up there. [[Pick up your phone]]You turn the screen towards you and flinch at the light. It's 4:23 AM. Darryl is calling. [[Answer it]] [[Don't]]He's probably anxious about something stupid again, you think, hitting "Decline Call." Like the trees. He wouldn't shut up about the trees yesterday. It's understandable--everyone's on edge. You turn the phone over on its face and nestle back into your pillow. It doesn't even take ten seconds before the phone starts buzzing again. You can already hear him cursing through the speaker. [[Fine, answer the phone]] You hit "Accept Call" and put the phone to your ear, half expecting another anxiety attack from him about the "size of the forest" or something. Instead, what you get is a less shaky but deadly sharp voice on the other end of the line. Too lucid. "Hey, man," Darryl says. "I think there's a problem." [["What is it?"]] [["Is it about the trees again?" ->"The trees won't fall on you, Darryl. Promise."]] "It's Holly," Darryl says. His voice sounds more frayed than usual, even for him. "She said she was gonna go smoke on the roof, but..." A sharp inhale. "I don't know. I'm worried." [["Why don't you text her?"]] [["Alright, I'll go check on her."]]"It's not about the *trees*," he snaps through the line. "It's Holly. She said something about going to smoke on the roof." A sharp inhale. "I don't know, I'm worried about her, she doesn't have her phone, and you're the manager, so..." [["Alright, I'll see what I can do." ->"Alright, I'll go check on her."]] You accept the call. "Asshole," Darryl says. [["What is it?"]] [["The trees won't fall on you, Darryl. Promise."]]The words are barely out of your mouth before a memory answers your question. "C'mon, man," Darryl says. You glance over at the broken shards of glass and silicon sitting on the dining table. Holly really did a number on that thing, you think. There are still pieces of wood and dirt mixed in there. [["Okay, I'll check on her." ->"Alright, I'll go check on her."]] "Okay," Darryl says. You hear that lip smack he does when he doesn't know how to say something. "I'm sorry if I--thanks." And then he hangs up. That was more than he said last time, you think. [[Go to the roof]]It's only one flight of stairs up. You push the door open and are immediately blasted by an air that's too cold, too alive. Any hopes of a good night's sleep after this get dashed away. You see Holly's silhouette sitting near the edge of the roof. She's wearing a hoodie. You can already tell she hears you walking up to her by the way her head moves. "Don't worry," she says. "I'm not gonna jump." [["I wasn't worried." ->"Alright, I won't ask any further."]] [["Are you okay?"]]Her mouth stretches out into a flat line on the bottom of her face. "I--" She sighs. "Yeah." She pinches the bridge of her nose with her left hand and squints at nothing. [["Are you sure?"]] [["Alright, I won't ask any further."]]Holly scoffs. "I mean, how am I supposed to answer that question? If I say I'm fine, you still get suspicious. If I say I'm not, everyone gets concerned. How can I tell the truth without managers like you jumping on me?" [["Take it easy. I just wanted to double-check."]] [["You're right. I'll stop asking. Sorry." ->"Okay. Sorry."]] "Okay, good," she says. "Thanks." She takes the cigarette stub out of her mouth and tosses it on a burial mound of burnt out ash. How many stubs are there, you can't tell. Maybe ten or eleven? Or-- "Fourteen," she says, catching your stare. She takes an open carton and rattles around two loose cigarettes inside. "I had four yesterday and, well, after the thing with my phone..." She pauses. "Look, there's only two left." [["You shouldn't be smoking that much."]] [["Can I have one?"]]Holly sideeyes you for a second, but eventually digs one out, gives it to you, and lights it. "Is this your way of trying to relate to me?" [["Yup."]] [["I just wanted one, honestly."]]That gets you a glare. "I'm an adult. I'll do what I want." [["It might hurt your vocals."]] [["Okay. Sorry."]]She goes silent. Time passes. You stare at her face, trying to read her, while she stares at nothing in particular. The sky gets bright enough that you start to see the smoke drifting up in the air. It feels like an eternity before anything happens. And when it does, it's Holly that starts. Seemingly unprompted, she turns to you and asks, "Can I ask you something? If you were us--if you were the band--how would you make another hit album? I mean, you're a manager. You've looked over hundreds of breakout bands like us before, right? What's the trick? How do the successful ones keep succeeding?" [["Stay true to what you want to do."]] [["Just keep giving the people what they want."]] [[Tell the truth.]] Her eyebrows arch up, and the glare hardens. "Oh, is that what this is about?" She rattles the cigarette carton around mockingly. "You're concerned about my vocals?" You get the feeling you should choose your next words carefully. [["Your vocals AND your well-being, obviously."]] [["I just have to make sure the show moves smoothly." ->"Your vocals AND your well-being, obviously."]] You don't even get a chance to respond before she plants both the remaining cigarettes in her mouth and lights up. "How about this. How about, fuck you and fuck the vocals. How about the tour is cancelled. The band is cancelled." [["Come on, you don't mean that."]] [["I was just trying to help."]]Silence. Holly breaks eye contact with you for the first time, and her eyes meander down to the ground. She doesn't say anything for a while. "You're right. I don't." She gets up and starts walking past you, back to the door, back into the hotel. "I think I'm done," she says, her voice registering no emotion. "See you in the morning." The door slams like a gunshot. The night air is stiller, colder now. You look out at the rooftop view for a few more minutes, trying to see what drew her here in the first place, and then eventually gather your things and go back inside. [[...]]"Well, good job," Holly spits. Before you can even say anything, she gets up, moves past you, and goes back into the hotel, slamming the door violently shut. You take a deep breath. Your management is not gonna like this. You give yourself a few more minutes outside, trying to drink in the silence before the shitshow tomorrow, and then walk back to your hotel room. [[...]]Created for ShuffleComp 2024 by Galvan, with Twine Inspired by the song "The Group Who Couldn't Say" by Grandaddy Thank you for playing! [[Restart ->Bedroom]] She breaks into a snicker. "I appreciate the honesty," she says, fishing out the last cigarette for herself. "That's probably the most sincere thing any higher up's said to me all year." You try to exhale normally. You have an opening here. She's starting to trust you. [["Is dealing with upper management really that bad?"]]She holds that sideeye look. You can tell she's not buying it, but by this point it's too late to say anything. "Alright," she says, and looks away, releasing your gaze. You feel a kind of relief in not having to make eye contact with her, at least for a little while. [[Try to smoke normally. ->"Okay. Sorry."]] Holly gives a knowing smirk. "Well, I didn't smash my phone for no reason, you know." She takes a drag. "They wouldn't stop texting me asking me if I had new material. Just nonstop, all day, new material. We're already on tour. What more do they want?" [["Breakout bands tend to get inspiration for their next project on their first real tour. When they see how big they're getting in-person. That's probably why they're asking."]] There's almost a stunned silence from her, and after a while her face goes dead, like the emotion is retracting from her eyes. "Well, I'm alright," she says. She gets up and walks past you back to the roof door. "Don't get up. I need aspirin." You open your mouth. "Well--" "Don't follow me," she says. "I'm fine. I'm just gonna get aspirin from my room. I'll be back." The door slams shut before you can respond. [[Wait.]]You sit back down and look out at the view, trying to replay the conversation in your mind. The air is stiller and colder now. It doesn't take until about forty minutes later until you check your phone and see that she still hasn't come back. The sun is rising soon. You get up and walk back into the hotel. [[...]]"There is no trick," you say. "There's no surefire strategy. Not even one more likely to work than the others. Some bands succeed by reinventing or experimenting with their sound, and others don't. Some successfully double down and sell out, others don't. I'm sorry." You open your mouth as if you were going to continue talking, but you realize there's nothing else to be said, and close it. Holly looks disappointed, but not surprised. She takes a drag of her cigarette. "Becky told me last night that when we were walking around the forest, she couldn't stop thinking about the dragonflies. You remember those? The dragonflies?" [["I remember. The blue ones."]]"Just keep giving the people what they want," you say. "You know what you are at this point. You know your brand, and the people love you. All you have to do is keep striking the iron while it's hot." Holly's eyebrows arch a little. "Really?" she says. "It's really that easy?" "What'd you expect?" you say. "I don't know," she says. "I mean, I feel like I'm a pretty cynical person. A lot of the artists I grew up with sold out like anyone else. But I didn't think..." She pauses a little, starts to raise the cigarette to her lips, stops herself and drops it down. "I didn't think it would be that simple." [["Well, it is."]]"Well, it is," you say. "That's the good news. Some succeed, some fail. But things decide themselves at this point. All you have to do is turn the gears." Silence. You wonder if you went too far. A good eternity passes before Holly raises her head, higher than you've seen her even in the daytime, and stands up straight. "Alright," she says. "I think we're gonna be okay." "You will be," you say. "Just turn the gears." "Right. Turn the gears." She gives a weak smile, too timid for you to tell if it's genuine or forced. "I'll... I'll go to bed for now. See you in the morning." "See you." For now, all you can do is smile back and watch her walk back inside. You look back out at the open view from the rooftop, taking the cool air into your lungs. Then, after a few minutes, you get up, clean the mound of cigarettes Holly left behind, and walk back inside. [[...]]"Stay true to what you want to do," you say. "Don't worry about the fans--they'll stay if they really like you. Most come and go anyway. Keep doing what made you love music in the first place. And then the rest will fall into place." "Really?" Holly says. "That's it?" "What'd you expect?" you say. "Well, I just thought it'd be more cynical, I guess," she says. "Don't people stop trying? Don't they phone it in?" [["Well, some do. But..."]]"Well, some do," you say. "But for most acts, if they devoted their whole lives to their music, and people are recognizing them for it, phoning it in isn't even really an option. It's not just soulcrushing to them, it doesn't work. How many of your favorite albums do you think were just artists 'phoning it in?'" Holly looks more and more unsure of herself. "I guess... not many." "Exactly. People are smarter than you think. At least the right people are. So don't worry about it too much, okay?" You don't know if she buys it, but eventually, she looks up at you and nods. "Alright. I trust you." She fiddles with the cigarette in her hands. "At least for now I do, anyways." She stands up slowly, then trots over to the hotel door. "I'm... gonna get some sleep while I can. I'll see you in the morning." "See you, Holly," you say. The door closes shut. You take a few minutes to yourself and wonder if you did the right thing. The cool air fills your lungs and brushes against your insides. After a while, you get up to your feet, pick up the few loose cigarettes stubs left on the ground, and head back inside to throw them in the trash. [[...]]"Not just blue," Holly says. "Blue and white and purple, shining, iridescent, almost flicking between the colors of the rainbow in a second. And Becky said all that tinkering she did on the computer, all those hours wasted on composition, mixing, editing, more mixing. None of it was as pretty as that dragonfly perched on a blade of grass she saw the other day." She looks you dead in the eye. "What do you think of that?" [["I'm sure someone out there in your audience is happier than that."]] [["Maybe she's right."]]"Maybe?" Holly says. "Maybe." A pause. Then, Holly simply says, "Alright," and looks straight ahead. And then, silence. Nothing else to say. The two of you sit on the roof, drinking the night air. Soon, the sun will rise, and another day will begin. But for now, the two of you drift in this limbo, quiet, unmoving, cold. [[...]]Holly stares at you, unblinking. "I hope so," she says after a while. "I really hope so." And then, silence. Nothing else to say. The two of you sit on the roof, drinking the night air. Soon, the sun will rise, and another day will begin. But for now, the two of you drift in this limbo, quiet, unmoving, cold. [[...]]"Oh," she says. She looks genuinely taken aback. "So, is that all they want then? More material?" [["That's not *all* they want."]] [["Something like that."]]She looks at you for far too long, blinks, and then looks away. "Alright. Sure. Let's hope so," she says. You open your mouth to say something, but quickly shut it again. You're not sure there's anything you can say to make that line of thinking move in any better direction. [[Try to smoke normally ->"Okay. Sorry."]] She frowns like she didn't want to hear that. Or maybe even didn't want you to say it. But what could you have done? [[Try to smoke normally->"Okay. Sorry."]]