Yujin Ch3

	The director said that the first rough cut of the music video would be finished in a week and a half. While Yujin and the rest of the crew could afford to laze around, Hebb had plenty to do in that time, the first priority being the negotiations with any and all labels to try and find Yujin another contract. Anti-Freeze Records, the one which employed Zhaga and relied on him for a large chunk of their income, was still the best option.

	Hebb didn’t bother talking with the label itself because he already knew that the answer would be the polite refusal he had already gotten from Noodle Arms Records, White Flash Records, NIMBUS Music, Archipelago Record Company, and a dozen others. They all knew exactly what happened the hour it happened, and no matter how much charm Hebb piled onto his every word, no one believed for a second that Yujin was a desirable or even worthwhile acquisition. Day after day, denial after denial, until there was only one option left. It was only in Zhaga’s manager did he see a glimmer of hope, and right now he was going to make that glimmer turn into a goddamned supernova.

	Hebb rehearsed his lines in his head one last time, dialed the number that could pull Yujin’s life out of it’s downward spiral, heard it ring two times, and heard the cheery greeting, “Good morning, Mr. Hebison.” Zhaga and his manager were currently six time zones away.

	“Morning, Mrs. Rethel. How’s the tour?”

	“All-star work, over here. How’s the drunk?”

	“He’s doing fine.”

	“Really? Heard you had to get a posse together to find the runaway.” She laughed, and Hebb laughed with her while he threw those rehearsed lines in the trash. Shit.

	“So he got the jitters. Who doesn’t? Did you hear why, though?”

	“Yes, a piece of cardboard scared him away.”

	That was strike two. Hebb cut the crap. “Ok, we need help. We’ve heard that Zhaga can make things a bit easier.”

	“Maybe.”

	Hebb gripped the phone hard. The plan of subtly romancing Zhaga was out the window. “What we don’t know is what Zhaga could want in return.”

	There was a long pause on the other end, and to Hebb’s surprise, he heard an exhausted sigh. Rethel said, “If you had to guess, what would it be?”

	He couldn’t even begin to answer that. How could Yujin repay someone who could potentially save him from becoming a janitor? Giving up his first-born child would be a start. “A 70/30 split for collabs?”

	“The man sleeps in his truck. Guess again.”

	If it wasn’t money, what was it? Licensing rights? Hebb said, “I’m stumped.”

	“So am I. I got him to talk about it like you wanted, but you know how he is.”

	“Honestly, I don’t.”

	“Let’s just say that Zhaga will have to tell Yujin himself because Zhaga repeated himself three times and I couldn’t figure out what the hell he was on about.”

	Hebb didn’t find that reassuring. He idly ran his fingers through the fur on his tail while he talked. “So, does that mean we’ll see Zhaga soon? Where do we stand with this?”

	Hebb could hear a faint, rhythmic clicking on the other end of the line, as if she was playing with a ballpoint pen. Rethel finally said, “It’s time to move forward with this. Keep your eyes open for the next few days.”

	Hebb smiled, thanked her profusely, and ended the call. Yujin was still on track, in spite of himself. His nose didn’t even hurt anymore. Things were looking up.

	They kept their eyes open, and a few days later, Kelly found a magazine article where Zhaga was interviewed about the state of his career. She flitted about the hotel room, waving the magazine around and excitedly repeating her favorite part to Yujin, Hebb, or anyone who was around. “Listen to this, listen! ‘I really feel for the guy, you know? He wants to be real, he wants to be alive in the world. I can see it in everything he does.’” She pulled Yujin into a tight hug. “What a kind soul he is! What a thoughtful soul! He knows you, he likes you! Oh, honey, you’ll just love him when you meet him, I’m sure of it!”

	For suddenly being his last hope, Yujin didn’t know much about Zhaga. He had heard the name and seen a handful of pictures, but hadn’t heard a single note of his music. The whole goth vibe just didn’t interest him. He wasn’t even sure if he was using the word “goth” correctly. As Yujin went through videos of Zhaga’s many performances to familiarize himself with his new savior, he saw things like the wolf slowly descending from the ceiling with a noose around his neck, starting the show with a mock execution, covering the stage with what looked like an ankle-deep pool of blood, having “background dancers” (the closest term Yujin could come up with) dressed in gas masks and heavy coats brandish flamethrowers that spit a fine mist instead of fire, and all of this in these costumes that were frankly laughable. Yujin forced himself to watch these tasteless, over-the-top performances, since apparently Zhaga had done him the same courtesy.

	The part of Zhaga that Yujin did respect was his extreme prolificacy. Zhaga had produced ten full-length albums in five years. Zhaga and Yujin had been in the industry for roughly the same amount of time, but Yujin, making music as his full-time job, had managed to make one EP, two albums, and his single, Weightless Love. Looking through Zhaga’s albums, Yujin’s jaw dropped when he saw that they all had over twenty tracks.

	Yujin then decided to read the whole interview article. Kelly snapped pictures of the pages before giving it to him. Yujin settled down to read it, and was immediately overwhelmed. The normal questions of the interviewer prompted huge, rambling monologues interspersed with lyrics from his songs. Yujin skipped a few questions to get to the part where Zhaga mentioned him. Again, the interviewer asked a normal question:

DE: Would you agree with the opinion that your music focuses on negative emotions?

ZH: That’s a real narrow way to say it, but it’s not wrong. I like to think that my music suggests the big questions of life—but only suggests, because it’s those questions, they’re too big to actually ask, and anyways they’re asked in between the words—and one of those many, many questions deals with suffering. Now, what do we know about suffering? Everybody experiences it. It moulds us, and we mould it in return. It’s a sign that we’re alive in the world, you know? We see ourselves in suffering, a mirror, and sometimes we turn away from it, deny it, which leads to insane things like getting drunk and getting naked and standing on a balcony and throwing bottles at people.

DE: Are you talking about the recent controversy surrounding Yujin?

ZH: Yeah, yup. That’s suffering. Everybody thinks it’s pride, but they’re really seeing their own worm of pride inside them.

DE: You believe Yujin is suffering?

ZH: Everybody suffers all the time, but they told him to turn away from it, and again, that leads to insane things. It’s a natural reaction, what he did, it happens all the time. I really feel for the guy, you know? He wants to be real, he wants to be alive in the world. I can see it in everything he does. Did you know that if you made a list of everybody who got a gold record in the last ten years, he and I are the only singer-songwriters?

	Yujin turned the page and saw that the next one was completely covered with Zhaga’s thoughts on the music industry. He didn’t know what to make of it. Zhaga mentioned Yujin out of the blue, which he guessed was good, but it was just like Kelly to repeat the only part that didn’t mention suffering and pain. It sucked that Yujin got fired because Noonan wanted to control his songs, but no one would call that suffering. He had enjoyed luxury while he was under contract. The hotel he was staying at had a pool and spa and until recently he was driven around in a nice car by a professional chauffeur. He had nice clothes. He was thinking about buying an expensive wristwatch, but he couldn’t decide between rose gold and rose gold with inlaid sapphires. Yujin was just in between jobs. Very in between, but still.

	A few days after the music video was finished (Yujin personally loved it), Hebb and Kelly showed up at Yujin’s hotel room early in the morning. They came bearing gifts: Kelly had gotten coffee for Hebb and two chai lattes for her and Yujin while Hebb proudly held an envelope. They both had big smiles. Hebb didn’t bother with hello or good morning, instead exclaiming “We’re pulling out of this nosedive, baby!”

	He handed the envelope to Yujin. Enclosed in it’s plain white exterior was a handwritten note on red paper. In delicate script, it said,

Yujin,

I’m making a detour. It would make me happy to see you there.

-Zhaga

	Also in the envelope were three bright red backstage passes with “ZHAGA” written on them in a stark font. Yujin gasped. He looked up at Hebb and said, “Does this mean…?”

	Kelly simply couldn’t contain her joy. She cried “Oh, Yujin! Everything will be alright now!” She embraced him again, and this time he returned the hug in full. For a moment, he forgot all his hesitation about Zhaga.

	Hebb said, “Let’s not break open the champagne just yet. I said that we’re pulling out of the nosedive, not landing on the moon.” They made themselves comfortable on the sofa, and Hebb took the next few moments to get Yujin up to speed on his conversation with Zhaga’s manager.

	After he was filled in, Yujin asked, “Wait, what does Zhaga know? Because it sounds like his manager is keeping him in the dark about most of this. Does he know that we’re hoping he gets me a contract with Anti-Freeze?”

	Hebb sipped his coffee. “As far as I can tell, Rethel didn’t tell him about that part, or if she did, Zhaga didn’t care or wasn’t listening.”

	“So, we what does that mean for the plan? Am I still gonna have to sleep with him?” Thinking back on the videos of Zhaga’s performances he watched, the wolf wasn’t bad-looking. He had a lean but powerful body and a strong face. It was just the moments when that face and body were streaked with fake blood, contorted and writhing, that was a turn off. A strong face was an ugly face when Zhaga used it like that.

	Hebb shrugged. “That’s the big mystery.”

	Yujin suddenly thought of a question that should have been asked a while ago. “Is… is Zhaga even gay? I feel like we kind of assumed.”

	Kelly laughed. “I know Zhaga’s type. For people like him, once they get big enough, things like ‘gay’ and ‘straight’ don’t mean much. And even if he’s straight, I’m not exaggerating when I say that you’ve got that certain something about you.”

	“What do you mean?”

	“You know…” Her voice dropped an octave. “No homo, but I wish my girl had an ass like Yujin!” Hebb chuckled, and Yujin couldn’t help but laugh along. It was true.

	Hebb ran a hand through his hair. “We’ll have to wait and see. I just don’t know Zhaga. It could be that we get everything we want without giving anything in return. But I’m not holding my breath.“

	Yujin nodded. “Okay. I’ve been thinking about it, and I guess it’s not as bad—“ Yujin’s cellphone rang. He took it out of his pocket, and felt a small flutter of panic when he saw David’s number. He apologized and dashed out of the room, stammering out something about his mother calling him. Hebb called after him, but decided to let him go.

	He went into the restroom, closed and locked the door, and answered. “Hey, David!”

	“Good morning, Archie. How’s it going?”

	Yujin smiled. ‘Good morning.’ ‘How’s it going.’ Not ‘Good morning, we have to fly cross-country with zero notice,’ or ‘Good morning, Noonan changed his mind and wants you to take a picture with giant fruit for the album cover,’ or even ‘Good morning, you’ve destroyed your incredibly lucrative career.’ No expectations, no panic, just Good Morning, How’s It Going.

	It was pure exhilaration. Yujin wanted more.“I’m good! Things are better with Dr. Felicitous.” Was that the name? Whatever. “She finally apologized for her meltdown.”

	“Wow, that’s big of her. A lot of professors can’t let go of their pride.”

	Yujin added some more details, grinning from ear to ear as he called memories forth from nothingness and built Archie-the-shy-theater-major word by word. “Well, she didn’t exactly let go, but she loosened her grip. She said that even though things can get heated during rehearsal, we have to remember that we’re a family, stuff like that. She spent most of the time talking about how passion is the soul of acting.”

	“That doesn’t sound like an apology to me. So things are normal?”

	Yujin giggled and put on his best Thespian accent. “I hope not! Things are never normal in theatre!”

	They both laughed. David said, “Hey, do you want to get lunch today? I get out of class at eleven.”

	In his mind’s eye, Yujin could see the wilted lettuce, gristly chicken, and old fruit that resided in every college cafeteria. Maybe he should just pick and choose what parts of Archie to live instead of going full throttle. “How about we go off-campus? Do you have a favorite place?”

	“Oh, sure. Do you eat fish? Hagane does great seafood. Can we do it Saturday, though?”

	Yujin had no idea how he was going to sneak away and eat in a restaurant without anyone noticing. He couldn’t have cared less. “Yup! That’d be great.”

	“Cool! See you then.”

	Instead of ending the call, Yujin said, “Hey, David… I really want to thank you for helping me out.”

	“I helped you?”

	“Yeah, when we met. I was… never mind. Just, thanks.”

	“You’re very welcome, whatever I did.” Yujin could almost hear that goofy smile in the deer’s words.

	They said goodbye and hung up. Yujin liked being Archie. He liked it a lot.