FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

There were a lot of things Matthew could say about his job. For better or worse, there were two things he couldn't: first, that it never surprised him. Second, that it was ever dull. Whether either of these made the job better, that was another matter. Sometimes they did. Even if only briefly, the people he met were good conversation starters. He also got a fair amount of exercise from how often he had to run around Nova Hall. He wouldn't claim he loved his job, but there were some days that it was alright.

Today was not one of those days.

"Ma'am, as I've told you, I only handle the day-of operations for your event, so yes, we will be working together but the pre-show work will be handled by our Event Manager. One moment, I'm sorry," said Matthew politely, holding his phone between his neck and shoulder while he straightened out a mess of cables. He took his phone and muted it, then said to the two teenage interns who were moving the equipment onto the stage, "No, the speaker goes further back. Line it up with the other one."

"Does it really matter? It's like, two feet. Who in the audience is going to notice?" said one of them. He and the girl were barely out of high school which made Matthew wonder what they were teaching kids these days.

"It matters. Move it back," he said dryly. He unmuted his phone and resumed his work with the cables. "I apologize. As I was saying…ma'am-no, as I said, I'm only the Event Coordinator. You want to talk to the Event Manager…yes, I know she gave you my number. She did that so that you'd have someone to contact during the show next week if something comes up. As it happens, I'm tied up preparing for today's concert, so I can't help you at this time. Please contact the Event Manager for further questions, and if you have any the day of your client's concert, then I'll be glad to assist however I can. Have a nice day."

He ended the call and finished with the remaining cables, then stood up and stretched. It'd taken longer than he thought, which wasn't good when there were still other things to take care of. Tonight, in particular, he needed to make sure everything was perfect. "When you're done with the speakers, hook them up where I showed you and go sit in the audience. Make sure you put in those earplugs I gave you. We're going to run a preliminary sound check, so it's going to get loud," he said.

"We'll be fine. Just because your old man ears can't handle loud music, doesn't mean we can't," the girl chuckled.

"Old man-I'm barely ten years older than you, if that."

"Yeah, that's like, over half our life. You're basically a grandpa."

Apparently, what they were teaching kids these days was "disrespect".

"Finish that and go sit down," he said. He'd just started to make his way to the exit and head towards the control room overlooking the stage when-

"Man, can't believe we're taking orders from a dog," the boy mumbled.

"I'm a wolf, thank you," said Matthew without turning around. He heard the two of them jump in surprise. "I'd also like to remind you that I have better hearing than either of you. I don't care what you say about me, just don't be stupid enough to say it within earshot…and definitely don't say that around Mr. Dusk. I assume you saw the news."

His appearance was admittedly different than most in Cosmopolis, but the city was fairly progressive; there were enough animal-like people living in it that someone calling him a dog was about the extent of the problems he faced, and even that was rare. Garden City tended to be a little less forgiving from what he'd heard, while Diamond City was beyond hostile. Even if Cosmopolis didn't accept him, though, there would be little reason to care. He had a job to do, and as long as he did it, whether anyone liked him or not was their problem.

"Hey. Are you okay?" said Mary, the only other Event Coordinator on staff that day, when he'd reached the control room. She pointed to her headphones. "Sounds like they made a gross comment, but I couldn't hear what it was. Just your response."

"I'm more concerned with whether they set the equipment up right. Ten bucks they didn't," he said.

She lightly touched his arm and spoke softly. "You don't have to pretend, you know. If you ever need someone to talk to-"

"Who said I was pretending?" he asked bluntly.

Mary blinked. "W-well, no one. It's just that you're always kind of closed off. I mean, I've been here for almost a year and it seems like you always wear that hoodie."

"It's black. That's the only color we can wear."

"Yeah, but you don't have to wear that specifically. Or have the hood up all the time." She sighed. "I don't mean to get in your business, I just thought, you know…maybe there's some stuff going on. We're out in ten minutes, so if you wanted to get something off your chest, we could get dinner and talk about it."

"I'm good," he said while adjusting some settings on the computer and sound board. "Besides, I'm pulling a double today. Lorie has me covering this thing alone since Alphonse called out. Guess he got taken hostage by Dumb Dora yesterday and needs time off. Won't be done until early morning."

"Oh…okay," she muttered. "Wait, he got taken hostage? Is he alright?"

"I don't know. Probably. The one time he chose to visit Garden City, right? Guy can't catch a break. Anyway, let's start the sound check. We were given the background track of his set, it's already in there so just hit play."

Mary looked like she wanted to say something, but she did as he asked and started the music while he put on his own headphones on over his hood. Surprisingly, the speakers seemed to be set up properly and instantly blared the instrumental of the first song that would be played. It was closer to hard rock than metal, something to ease the crowd in, but it was still loud enough to be heard clearly from all the way up in the control room. He winced. Even with the headphones and hood muffling it, it was almost painful due to his sensitive hearing.

"Sounds good to me," said Matthew a moment later as he removed the headphones.

"You sure? I feel like something was off." Mary frowned lightly and looked at the computer. "Not in the speakers, though. Sound levels and quality are fine, and it looks like playback went smoothly, but I dunno. Like, something felt off in the music itself."

His phone buzzed with a message. He took his phone out from his hoodie's pocket. "Probably because there was no guitar. It's going to just be him up there, so he recorded all the other parts himself. Only guitar and vocals will be live."

"Is that normal?"

"Mm." He held up his phone. "He's here, his manager just texted me. I'll handle the rest, so you can head out."

She touched his arm again. "Alright. But…you sure you're okay? I know you don't talk to any of us much, but we all care about you, Matt."

"Matthew. And I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" he asked.

She had no answer despite clearly wanting to give one, so she simply left the control room while Matthew mentally prepared himself for the next task. He gave himself an extra few minutes by going down to the auditorium first and asking the interns about the sound check.

"That was so loud! Why didn't you warn us!? I thought my ears were about to start bleeding!" the girl grumbled.

"Mine are still ringing," the boy groaned.

"I did warn you," said Matthew.

"Well, you could have warned us more!"

He shrugged, said "okay", and left the auditorium.

Even if he didn't already know who he was looking for, it would be abundantly clear who he was meant to assist the moment he reached the lobby. There were only two people, one being a rather twitchy human man who looked everywhere except directly at the man standing beside him. The man in question was a wolf, just like him, except with black fur streaked with red instead of pure, deep brown. Rather than a suit like his companion or plain black clothes like Matthew, he had leather pants, strapped boots, a chain wrapped around his left wrist and a rainbow bracelet on his right, two silver earrings on his right ear, and a leather jacket left open over a white shirt and a black cross necklace. Although it wasn't visible from the current angle, Matthew knew there were wings on the back of the jacket that had become something like his icon. His hair was stylishly messy and tinged with light blue, just long enough to fall into his eyes which were hidden behind dark sunglasses. He stood with a hand casually on his hip and tapped his foot to a steady rhythm.

"Y-you must be Mr. Mills! The Event Coordinator for today!" the man in the suit stuttered. He rushed over to Matthew and shook his hand. "Hello, it's wonderful to meet you! I'm Carl Dregs, and I have the p-pleasure of being Mr. Dusk's manager! Ah, if you don't know, t-this is Mr. D-"

"He knows who I am, Dregs. Everyone does," said the wolf, flashing a confident, and some might say arrogant, smirk.

"Y-yes, Mr. Dusk! Of course! I'm so sorry!" Dregs gasped while retreating to his former position.

Dusk ignored him. He lowered his sunglasses and peered at Matthew over them, revealing remarkably sharp hazel eyes that were accented with red markings, almost like a raccoon's.

Matthew, of course, didn't say this.

"Most people fall head over heels the moment they see me," said Dusk. "They all want something, and some try to take it at all costs. Autographs, handshakes…even nearly lost a shirt or two. What do you want? We'll just get that over with."

"I want to assist you in putting on the concert as specified in the agreement between Nova Hall and your team," Matthew replied.

"No, no. I asked what you want, not what this damn place wants," he said, gesturing to the lobby. "Music or meetings, I don't do encores for free. This is your only chance."

Matthew shook his head. "I spoke for myself. I don't want anything except to make sure your concert goes smoothly. Would you like me to show you to your dressing room? We received most of the equipment you specified earlier today, so the stage is ready to go."

"A-and the merchandise?" Dregs asked.

"Set to arrive within the hour. The booths and card readers have already been set up throughout Nova Hall, which has been booked solely for your use as you requested."

"Good, b-but please ensure that they've been set up in the proper-"

He pointed upwards. "Novelty drinks and food are on the top floor, including Mr. Dusk's preferred brand of potato chips, along with autographed posters and albums. This ensures that anyone who wants refreshments will see all available merchandise on the way up and back down. Branded headphones and earplugs are available right at the entrance."

Dusk held up his hand. "Wait, wait, wait. You said most of the equipment got here. What's missing?"

"The microphone you requested was…difficult to track down. Rest assured that we've acquired it, but it's taking extra time to arrive," said Matthew.

"Extra time? The concert is today, in case you haven't noticed," he said.

"I have noticed, yes. Like I said, Mr. Dusk, it'll be here. Dressing room?"

Dregs looked between the two in a panic. Dusk's eyes were impossible to read behind his sunglasses, and Matthew refused to turn away.

"…sure, whatever. Let's go," Dusk finally said. He held up a hand again when Dregs took a step towards Matthew. "Ah! No, not you. You can go to the stage and make sure everything's how I need it to be."

"B-but Mr. Dusk! Someone has to accompany you!" Dregs pleaded.

Dusk calmly placed his hands in his pockets and then slammed his foot on the ground while leaning towards Dregs. "You think I'm some kind of kid? Huh? Can't be trusted to be by myself for two damn minutes?" he snarled.

"N-n-no! I j-just…the label wants-"

"The label? Funny." He went over to Matthew and faced Dregs with his arms crossed tightly. "I'll be with our new friend here. See? I've got company. Happy?" Without waiting for an answer, he said, "Now get going, or I'm going to be looking for a new manager! You know what happened to the last one, right?"

Dregs nodded and practically sprinted off towards the auditorium.

"…heh. Parasites, all of them," he chuckled. "Anyway, where's my dressing room? I'm tired."

"This way. Please follow me," said Matthew. He led Dusk through a "Staff Only" door, around a corner, and stopped in front of a door that had "Damian Dusk" written on a golden star.

"You even got the star. Not bad. You wouldn't believe how hard it apparently is for some people to even get that much right," Dusk smirked. He entered the room that had been chosen and lavishly decorated just for him, including a plush sofa, a TV, his own posters and album covers on the walls, and even a private bathroom.

"That's what you told us to do, so it's what we did," he stated. Of course, the fact that his team paid for everything made the job considerably easier. Without having to worry about funds, completing the mountain of tasks was much simpler.

Dusk's examination immediately ended in front of the vanity that spread across nearly the entire room (exactly fifty 100 CRI, 5000K bulbs on the mirror with every other bulb turned off and ebony wood for the vanity). He pointed to the glass bottles of water on top that were labeled "Glacier" in fancy script.

"Excuse me?" he said as though he'd just seen something incredibly offensive.

"I'm afraid you'll have to clarify," Matthew responded.

"Are you joking?" he growled. "I asked specifically for Hitari! Not Glacier! Hitari!"

As he faced down Damian Dusk, the rocker that had drawn the entire world's attention and made everyone in it love to hate him or hate to love him, the same man who had smashed his own image to pieces when he decided he didn't like it and rebuilt himself from those same pieces, one of the only people Matthew had ever seen that looked like him, he had just one thought enter his mind:

What a jerk.

"Actually," Matthew corrected him politely but forcefully, "that was exactly what your team told us to buy. We followed your instructions to the letter, Mr. Dusk. Everything here is just as we were told to do. Including the water."

Dusk pondered him for a moment, then shook his head. "No, no. That can't be right. Even Dregs knows not to screw with me like that." He hopped over the back of the the sofa and stretched out on it, resting his head on his hands. "Must be your mistake. Which means you get to fix it. Ain't that fun?"

Matthew wordlessly opened the long and detailed set of instructions he'd been given on his phone, zoomed in on the specifications for the water, and handed it to Dusk.

"What, you want a selfie with me? If it wasn't for your screw up, I'd-" he chuckled, but the smirk fell from his face immediately upon looking at the screen. He threw the phone back at Matthew and pulled out his own while standing up. "Dregs! What the hell!? No, shut up! You know what I'm talking about! The water! I don't care that you've only worked with me for a week, you know what I need! Hitari! Not Glacier!"

Matthew watched one of the most famous non-superheroes in the world yell at his manager over a bottle of water with mild interest. He hadn't been told to go away, so he saw no reason to leave and miss out on what happens.

"You're lucky I'm not firing you for this! The last manager may not have known when to get out of my way, but at least she was competent!" he snapped.

Jerk may have been an understatement.

"I don't care how much it costs! You think I care about money? Just do it! And get a refund from Glacier, too! I don't want them getting a single cent!" With that, Dusk ended the call, sighed, and looked at Matthew. "Guess it wasn't you after all. In that case, you're not half bad…as long as the mic gets here, anyway."

Matthew, who assumed this was the closest thing to an apology he was going to get, shrugged. "I have a job, so I do it. As for the mic, I promise it'll be here. Do you need anything else?"

Damian waved him away. "Nah, you're free to go. Do…whatever it is you and the other Event Coordinators plan to do."

"It's just me tonight, actually."

"Just you? Hm." He stared at Matthew, then removed his sunglasses and set them down on the table. He stepped around the sofa and moved close to him. "You're telling me that you set up all of this. By yourself."

"In terms of oversight, yes. I had some help in, uh…managing the interns and doing some checks, and Nova Hall has enough regular employees to keep things going without too much stress. So it's not like I personally set up every single stand and piece of equipment, just some of them. But I've been here the longest, so most of the management tasks for concerts like this are delegated to me."

Now that they were within a foot of each other, Matthew noticed that he and Dusk were quite similar. Aside from both being wolves, they were the same height and had similarly bushy tails that curved up just slightly. His eyes weren't at all like the light green of Matthew's, however, and Dusk's nails were grown out and sharpened while Matthew kept his short and flat like humans usually do. His hair was also far too short to manage the "messy on purpose" look that Dusk had going. Still, for the first time it felt like he was looking into a mirror. He just wished the reflection wasn't someone so stuck up.

"Interesting," said Dusk. He turned around and vaulted himself over the back of the couch again. He raised his hand and waved. "Well? Get out. You've got things to do, right? Go do them."

Matthew's ears perked up at the sound of light scuffling from outside the door. Dusk clearly heard it too, his own ears doing the same.

"Right. Before I go, one other thing," said Matthew. He paused, then whipped around and flung the door open. The two interns who were supposed to be in charge of the stage but were instead pressing their ears against the door nearly fell over backwards in surprise and stumbled over each other in their attempts to stand up straight. He left the room and closed the door behind him, then stared at the two interns with mild annoyance.

"We were, uh…doing something else?" said the girl.

"Uh-huh. How's the stage? You know, the thing you're actually meant to be working on?" he asked.

"All set! That's why we came to find you," said the boy. "To, uh…tell you."

"And definitely not to eavesdrop on my conversation with Mr. Dusk which could make him highly uncomfortable and decide to pull out of the concert at the last minute, devastating not only our reputation but Nova Hall's funding?"

Their eyes instantly widened so much Matthew thought they'd seen something truly horrifying.

"We just-no, we didn't mean-I just love his music!" the boy exclaimed.

His friend punched his arm. "Stop lying! I love his music, you're just a furry and think he's hot!"

"I'm not a furry, I just have eyes!" He pointed to Matthew. "Matthew's a wolf, and I don't think he's hot!"

"You know I'd be able to hear you even if I was a human, yeah?" said Matthew, casually putting his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

The boy ignored him. "Besides, I actually do like some of his songs!"

"Yeah, some! I like all of them! And unlike you, I don't care what he looks like!" she growled.

"You're a lesbian, of course you don't!"

Matthew left them to their argument and went back to the auditorium where Dregs was standing by the stage and having a panicked discussion on his phone.

"P-please, you don't understand! I just need one case, that's all!" he wailed. "…yes, within the next two hours! I know that's difficult, but please, money is no objection so-"

"Give me the phone," said Matthew, holding out his hand.

Somewhat stupidly, Dregs immediately handed it over without any objections. Matthew swallowed his surprise and sat down in the nearest seat.

"Hello, I assume this is a representative of Hitari?" he asked.

"Yes. Who am I speaking to now? I've already told your associate it's not possible to deliver a case to Cosmopolis within such a short period of time. Our stock is extremely limited," said a woman with a pleasant, yet professional tone.

"I'm Matthew Mills, the Event Coordinator for Mr. Dusk's concert today. Even with financial compensation, it's not possible to ensure it arrives in time?"

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Mills. My apologies."

"I see. Have you sold any cases to people in Cosmopolis recently?"

There was a short pause. "…if you're asking why we were able to deliver to them and not you-"

"So you have," Matthew interrupted. "No, that's not what I'm asking. Would you be able to tell me who bought the water and how many cases? I know clients have a right to their privacy, but I'm speaking on behalf of Mr. Dusk himself. If there's a problem, it won't be hard to track down an international rockstar."

Another pause. "I…well, I suppose that's true. Mr. Dusk is one of our most stable clients, as well."

He assumed she meant that as in "constant" rather than "psychologically sound".

"I can't give out his address, of course, but a man named Andrew Cloyer bought five cases from us. They were delivered to an address in Cosmopolis earlier today according to the tracking information."

"Perfect. Thank you, you've been a great help," he said. He hung up and handed the phone back to Dregs.

"Did…did you get the water?" he asked cautiously.

"Not yet. Hold on." He took out his own phone and found the contact address for an information broker known only as Envoy. He'd made use of their services a time or two as many often did. They advertised themselves as one person, but he suspected "Envoy" was actually a group of people; otherwise, there was no way they'd be able to assist with so many things at once. Either way, he sent a message requesting the number of Andrew Cloyer in Cosmopolis and was quickly given a fee in response. He glanced at Dregs. "I can get the water, but it's going to have to be added onto the bill for today. I'll have the Event Manager handle the details. Fifty dollars minimum, probably more. Is that alright?"

Dregs nodded frantically. "Y-yes! That's fine! Please, do what you need to do! Quickly!"

Matthew transferred the money from his own account and sent a text to his boss requesting reimbursement and explaining the situation. He'd barely hit send when he received a text from an unknown sender containing a phone number.

"Yeah? Who's this?" a gruff voice asked shortly after he dialed.

"Hello. My name is Matthew Mills. I'm an Event Coordinator at Nova Hall. Am I correct that you bought five cases of Hitari water bottles recently?" he replied.

"How did you know that? If this is some sort of sick prank, I'm-"

"It's nothing like that, Mr. Cloyer. I just urgently need one of those cases, and I'm willing to pay. Or at least, have someone else pay you."

Cloyer sighed. "Look, I don't know how you got my number or why you need it so bad, but I also need them. I'm hosting a party tonight, lots of big-wigs. You know how they love their fancy drinks."

"_Do you know if they'd be able to tell the difference between _Hitari and Glacier?"

"Glacier? The stuff that's directly from the arctic? Doubt it, as long as it's expensive they won't care. They taste the money, not the water. I don't have time to arrange another order, though. It starts in three hours."

Matthew looked at Dregs and nodded. "That's perfect, because the concert I'm overseeing also starts in three hours. We've got a case of Glacier here. If I have someone drop it off, are you willing to swap it for one case of Hitari? We can also throw in the cost of the water as compensation for your trouble."

"I don't get why it matters so much, but…sure, I guess. If you're dropping it off and paying me, not like I lose anything. I'll text my address to the number you're calling from."

Dregs stared at him with wide eyes until Matthew shooed him away while mouthing "Go!", at which point he sprinted out of the auditorium.

"Wonderful. Thank you so much, Mr. Cloyer. Someone will be along shortly. Have a great rest of your day, and good luck with your party," said Matthew.

"Uh…yeah. You too. Good luck with…whatever it is you're doing," said Cloyer. He then hung up, and a few seconds later, he received a text with an address that was fairly close by. After forwarding it to Dregs, he checked with some of Nova Hall's regular employees to ensure everything was as it should be, assigned a few more tasks to the interns if for no other reason than to keep them away from Dusk's dressing room, and updated the Event Manager on how things were going.

"You know, for someone who isn't human, you're great with people," she texted back.

"Thank you," he replied, deciding to end the conversation there.

The time for the doors to open to the public finally arrived, and Matthew was thankful it was one of the few jobs he wasn't expected to help out with. No, he'd leave the admission of thousands of screaming fans to the far more burly security guards. The people of Cosmopolis were typically kind and gentle, but the concert would draw in fans from around the globe, not just from Cosmopolis. Besides, even kind people could lose themselves in their emotions. Instead, he checked with the vendors to ensure they had what they needed and that the lines already forming were doing so politely and with some semblance of order. While a losing battle, they had to at least try.

"Is it that hard for people to just be patient?" he heard a human woman with long hair grumble.

"Do you remember how you were encouraging me to run because you wanted a t-shirt? Besides, I'm surprised you're that eager to be here at all after what happened last week," said the tall woman with dark skin beside her.

She must have been referring to the incident with Curtain Call, and admittedly, he was surprised anyone showed up as well. Then again, Nova Hall had pledged to donate the proceeds of the concert to the families of the victims, and Dusk had agreed to match the amount…or, Matthew suspected given Dusk's attitude, someone on his team agreed to. That probably provided some encouragement.

"I'm not letting anyone get between me and one of these shirts. Besides, I don't remember you protesting. You want one just as much as I do."

"Yeah, but we're not talking about me right now."

For better or worse, fans loved their merch.

---

"Thirty seconds. Dusk's manager said he's ready. Everything still good to go on our end?" Matthew asked. He stood in the dark control room with a few others who had been trusted with the task, illuminated only by the bright lights of the computer and sound board. An older man at the lights, an even older woman running the sound board, an unusually trustworthy intern, and a few others in case extra assistance was needed. They didn't need many, they just needed precision.

"Everything seems to be working fine. Playback is ready to go and sound levels are right," said the woman.

"Ready with the lights whenever. By the way…you met him, didn't you?" the old man asked him. "What's the little upstart like?"

"Exactly what you'd expect, however you choose to take that," Matthew answered. "Twenty seconds."

"So he's full of himself and spoiled rotten."

Concise, but not inaccurate.

"It's not a lie that I've never met anyone like him. Can't say he's bad for business, though. Tickets sold out within a second. When Burning Down performed here years ago, it took at least three. Ten, nine, eight…"

It was almost time to begin. A light shiver coursed throughout Matthew's body, even with his fur and hoodie.

"Three…two…one!"

The lights went out. The crowd below immediately went silent. Both they and those in the control booth remained in the darkness for a moment that seemed to stretch on forever.

"Starting the music," said the woman at the sound board.

The sound of a light drum beat and soft guitar floated through the silence alongside the audience's roar. Matthew switched his attention to the the monitors that provided a close feed of the stage. A slow burst of white smoke floated from the sides and pooled in the center. A wolf-like man holding a guitar stepped out. He'd kept his outfit exactly the same as before minus the sunglasses, but the red parts of his fur did seem a little brighter, and the black around his eyes was a little more pronounced than before. He calmly stepped up to the mic and closed his eyes while he played and let out a note as if he were softly howling into the darkness.

"Do you see what you've done? You've bound us with chains of pain, anger, and fear. Calling down your fire, tearing apart, ripping away, what you want is made clear," he sang gently. Even outside of his usual rock and metal, Dusk's voice was able to instantly shoot through the heart of anyone listening. The words he sang didn't come from his mouth, they came from somewhere much deeper and it was evident in every one of his songs. Love or hate him, most would agree: there really wasn't anyone like him.

"Isn't this a bit soft?" the old man asked.

"Give it a second. It's adapted from the first song Burning Down performed. That version was soft, his isn't. Hush," said Matthew quickly, his eyes firmly locked on the screen.

"Everything in pieces, sitting on a throne of our hope. You buried us in sorrow, thought we'd just drown, but I'm not dead yet. If you want fire…"

Dusk's eyes opened. The drumbeat kicked up, and he strummed his guitar with increased ferocity that immediately amplified the energy of the crowd to new levels. A great whirlwind picked up and swirled thin ribbons of the smoke around him while whipping at his fur and clothes.

"Then I'll burn it down!"

"Music sounds like a dying cat, but gotta admit, little punk's got presence," the old man chuckled.

Presence was an understatement. Performing a one-man concert for over a thousand people, sometimes tens of thousands depending on the stadium, would be unimaginable to most people and yet Dusk carried himself with the confidence of someone rocking out in their bedroom. If anything, the screams of the audience seemed to energize him even further. The mood was so infectious that, by the time the song ended, even those in the sound booth who didn't like his music found themselves tapping their finger or foot to the beat.

"Seems like the first one went well. Starting the second," said the woman at the sound board.

The lights flickered, then went out both in the auditorium and the control room.

"Is this part of the show!? I wasn't told about this!" the intern gasped.

"No, it's not! Get them back on!" Matthew replied.

He heard the old man fumbling with the lights. "What do you think I'm trying to do!?"

The lights flashed back to life. Everything seemed normal. The computer had turned off but rebooted quickly, returning to its previous state. Casting his gaze to the monitors, Matthew saw one glaring problem:

Dusk was gone.

The audience began to turn to each other and mumble, probably asking what was going on. Matthew quickly pointed to the sound board.

"Adjust for the the next song!" he ordered.

"But where-"

"Just do it!"

While she frantically played with the board to prepare for the next song in Dusk's set, Matthew hurried to the computer and loaded the file he'd prepared just in case something like this happened. Not this specifically, he didn't quite anticipate Dusk vanishing, but a situation where the show needed to go on at all costs.

He breathed a sigh of relief as the instrumental Dusk had provided played through the speakers and, because of the file he'd played at the same time, so did Dusk's voice. It was a pre-recorded set of vocals from one of his albums, but it gave the illusion that, wherever he'd gone, he was still playing and that this was part of the show. The audience cheered, suggesting they bought the ruse at least for the moment. It wouldn't be long before someone noticed, but it gave them time to figure out what to do.

"Well? Where'd he go?" said the intern, placing their hands on their hips accusingly. "There's no way that was meant to happen. If Curtain Call is back-"

"She's still locked up in Saint Bertram's. It's not her," said Matthew, taking out his phone and looking it up just to be sure while he ignored the frenzied texts from Dusk's manager. There were no stories about Curtain Call escaping. However, that now meant there was no explanation as to what had happened. "Alright, all of you stay here. I'm going to go look for Dusk. Knowing him, he went back to his dressing room because he got bored or something. Keep the show going until I get back, that file has his entire set in it so just keep pretending like this is normal."

"There's no way that they'll buy this! Someone has to think that this isn't right!" the woman frowned.

"We're talking about the same person who purposely had a massive dragon fall on him during a concert to make it seem like he'd died. I don't think vanishing mid-act is out of character for this guy," Matthew explained. Without waiting to hear more complaints, he rushed out of the control room. He'd just gotten to the first floor when he saw the door to the staff corridor was a second from closing fully. Someone had just gone through, and he suspected he knew who it was.

"Dusk, what are you thinking…?" he muttered to himself. He went through the door just in time to see someone whip around the corner, exactly towards where Dusk's dressing room was. He followed silently and peered into the next hallway.

The door to the dressing room slowly closed.

Now positive it was Dusk having a category five Diva Moment, he sighed and knocked on the door. "Mr. Dusk! Are you okay?"

There was no answer.

"Mr. Dusk, your concert is still going! We've handled it for now, but if you're alright, we really need you back out there!"

Again, nothing but silence.

He touched the handle. "Mr. Dusk, I'm coming in. Just…if you're changing costumes, you've got about two seconds to warn me."

He received no such warning, so he pushed it open…and found no one. Someone had come in, he was positive of that, but there was nowhere for them to hide. The room had vents, of course, but they didn't show signs of being moved. Besides, they were impossible to get to without a ladder or a step ladder…whatever the difference was. The large mirror on the vanity also revealed almost the entire room, negating any potential hiding spots.

"What the hell…" he said quietly, stepping into the room and leaving the door open. It was the only exit, and if someone tried to leave through it, he'd see them. That was assuming someone else was in the room, though. He did notice a bag on the vanity that wasn't there before, and while it was already open, there wasn't anything inside except for some drumsticks and a change of clothes. He looked up, realizing he probably shouldn't be snooping through a superstar's personal belongings, and gasped. The mirror revealed someone standing in the doorway. Their features were completely hidden under a long, brown cloak with only the lower half of their face, pale and grim, visible under their hood. He whipped around, but there was no one there. He turned back towards the mirror. The cloaked figure now stood directly behind him, a pale arm raised and a bony hand clutching an ornate dagger. He turned again, still seeing no one, and staggered backwards, colliding with the vanity and falling to the floor. He scrambled to the side while the mirror reflected his unseen assailant who inched closer and closer. He closed his eyes and threw his arms in front of his face.

Thud.

He waited. Nothing happened.

Matthew dared to look. Now fully visible even outside of the mirror, the cloaked figure lay sprawled out on the ground in front of him. The dagger had flown from his hand and landed several feet away. He looked up, expecting to see Nova Hall's security team. Instead, he saw-

"Close one, huh?" said Dusk. He carried a metal baseball bat, scratched but otherwise well-maintained, in his right hand. He twirled it and brought it up to rest on his shoulders while he grinned confidently down at Matthew.

"I don't…I mean, thank you, but who is-" he stammered, scrambling to his feet and looking down at his assailant.

"Long story, no time to sing you a song about it. Besides, I charge for that," he said. Matthew had a feeling he was completely serious. "Come on. We need to get out of here." He ran to the door and looked back. "Unless you want to give grandpa over there another chance to stab you?"

Finally breaking himself out of his shock, Matthew glanced down at the cloaked figure one more time before sprinting towards Dusk.

"Mr. Dusk, I don't know what's going on but you have to get back on stage! We've covered you for now, but any moment that crowd is going to realize-" Matthew started to explain while they ran.

"Trust me, I have every intention of finishing my concert. I don't leave them wanting more like some kind of amateur, but I can't go back until these idiots are dealt with," Dusk replied. "This way!"

Rather than go back to the lobby, he took Matthew in the opposite direction and down a hall he knew had little of importance aside from some storage rooms and a short passage leading to the staff section of Nova Hall's parking garage. This was apparently where Dusk intended to take him, and he slammed the door shut the moment Matthew went through. Almost no one in the city used cars, himself included, and instead opted for public transportation but it had a few spaces just in case, plus spaces for bikes and storage for skateboards as well as a ramp up to the public section of the garage in the event that either one somehow overflowed. Thus, the only vehicle on this level of the garage was a pristine black motorcycle that sat directly in a beam of light. Dusk snapped his fingers, and it instantly revved to life. The engine was powerful but smooth, not at all like the obnoxious bikes he'd seen people riding on TV, and the wheels gave off a deep red glow.

"Really?" Matthew asked bluntly.

"Appearances aren't everything, but they sure ain't nothing," he said. "Now let's-"

Thick mist appeared out of thin air and surrounded them, six bursts in total, and spiraled downwards until they formed dense cones of silver. Each one then exploded outwards in turn. In the center of each stood a figure wearing an identical cloak to the man who'd attacked Matthew. One of them held up a silver flask. The mist gathered into a thick stream and flew into it, and when the last wisp was gone, they stored it inside their sleeve.

"Not one, but two. The Lady shines her brilliance on us today," said the one with the flask. His voice was deep and shaky, as if he were very old.

"The Lady can shine her brilliance somewhere else. Want me to tell you where?" Dusk asked.

The cloaked figure beside the old man raised her hand and pointed at him. Her skin was smooth, and she spoke with a much younger voice than that of her ally. "Disrespect her light and guidance, and you will see nothing but the savage darkness you crawled out of! You have been warned, abomination!"

"How many times have we done this whole song and dance? I keep telling you: I don't do free concerts. You want me to come with you, talk to my manager," said Dusk.

"Your constant escape of our grasp admittedly does vex us as you do not seem cursed with supernatural abilities, only your hideous countenance," said the old man with the flask, who Matthew assumed was their leader. "However, the Lady has blessed us with a second opportunity. It makes no difference to her which is captured and which is destroyed. Seize him."

Despite their clear interest in Dusk, it was not him they grabbed. The man opened his flask, and mist shot out to surround one of the other cloaked figures. The mist then flew into the air and landed directly behind Matthew where it solidified back into a person. They yanked his hands behind his back with surprising strength while the rest, including Dusk, watched.

"Let go! It's him you want, isn't it? What did I do!?" he growled as he struggled to break free. He glanced at Dusk whose eyes were flicking between him and the new gap in the ring that gave him a clear path to his motorcycle. He was a jerk, but surely he wouldn't just run away and not even try to help. He couldn't be that gross of a person.

"You are both equally as disgusting in the eyes of our Lady," said the old man. "She calls for unity, peace, for us all to be as one, but beasts like you threaten that vision. We will not permit it. Cease your pitiful attempts to free yourself, or we will force you to stop."

While he was giving his monologue, Dusk was slowly inching towards the gap. The moment the man finished his speech, Dusk suddenly made a break for his motorcycle.

"Seriously?" Matthew growled.

"Do not let him get away!" the man snarled.

The others took a step in his direction, their hands reached out to stop him, but he'd already hopped on the bike. He revved the engine and held his baseball bat out to the side, spun in a half circle to avoid the cloaked figure that lunged at him, then zoomed off before quickly turning around and driving straight towards Matthew. His captor, thankfully a good bit taller than him, took Dusk's bat directly to their face as he passed and instantly released their grip, after which Dusk skidded to a stop and turned to face him.

"What are you waiting for? An encore? Get on!" he exclaimed.

Matthew didn't need to be told twice. He sprinted over to the motorcycle and clamored on as the man with the flask raised it into the air and released a thick fountain of mist that enveloped him and his allies. Two of them moved over to the exit and materialized in front of it while another stood in front of the door back to the theater. The rest remained as silver wisps.

"Damn! Well, guess there's only one way to go!" Dusk growled, spinning the bike towards the ramp.

"The public garage? There's no way they won't block that exit, too!" Matthew pointed out. He looked up at the streams of mist that were circling ominously in the air above them, like vultures who had just found a carcass ripe for the picking.

"Well, we gotta try something! Hold on!" He looked back at Matthew. "Oh, and it usually costs a lot of money to even get my handshake. I'll send you the bill later."

Matthew barely had time to grab Dusk around his waist and register the pleasant scent coming from him, a bit strong and spicy like bourbon but also a little sweet, before the motorcycle roared and sped off towards the ramp. At the top, Dusk swerved to break for the exit. The remaining wisps flew down and turned back into the cloaked figures, blocking their way out. He quickly spun back around and instead went up the ramp to the second floor of the garage.

"Mr. Dusk, t_here's no way down from there!_" Matthew yelled over the wind and engine.

"I know how parking garages work, thanks!" Dusk yelled back. "If you've got a better idea, I'll make a song out of it! Otherwise, really don't have much choice!"

"You can't just run them over?"

"And ruin my motorcycle with their blood? No thanks!"

He'd known Dusk for less than a day and already knew he'd lose that argument if he pursued it. "What if you just go through them when they're mist?"

"No idea, never tried! Rather not find out the hard way!"

He tried to make a wide turn and shoot back down the ramp, but two more materialized in front of it before he could. Dusk immediately braked, spun around, and sped away again, one of the cloaked figures reaching for him and just barely touching the fur on the tip of his tail. If they weren't being chased by some kind of cult, he would have been impressed at how effortlessly Dusk was able to command his motorcycle.

"Guess we go up again!" Dusk announced, taking them to the third floor.

"Mr. Dusk, they're chasing us now!" Matthew gasped after he made the unfortunate choice to look back. Aside from the solid ones blocking the ramp down, there were now several streams of mist flying towards them.

"Well, if it's a chase they want, I'll give 'em one! Had plenty of practice running from fans!" he laughed, which was the last thing Matthew felt like doing. He sped around the garage and weaved between the few cars present, and each time they tried to cut him off or were about to catch up, Dusk spun the motorcycle and went in a new direction. They tried to surround him, but he drove towards one of the cars and heaved the motorcycle into the air to use the front as a ramp and soar clear above them. For a second that seemed to go on for much longer, Matthew felt an uncomfortable sensation in his stomach as the bike flew up and made its way back down. He started to rise out of the seat, and he gripped Dusk tighter. When they'd finally landed, the mist chased them up to the third floor where they once again tried to surround him on all sides but the front. Without any cars present, he had no choice but to drive straight at the solid all getting closer each second.

"Mr. Dusk!" Matthew yelled.

"I've got it, so just shut up, hold on tight, and trust me!" Dusk growled. Right before reaching the wall, he dropped the motorcycle into a slide while spinning it, laying them almost completely sideways on the ground but turning them back towards the ramp while the streams of mist flew directly over them and into the wall. They splattered and dispersed briefly, then quickly began to gather themselves. Dusk kicked the bike back up and went up the ramp to the fourth floor, then the fifth, sixth, and seventh, all the way up to the open-air top floor of the garage where the remaining cloaked figures were already waiting. He skidded to a stop in front of them.

Now free from the intense ride he didn't sign up for, Matthew realized that Dusk was still holding his bat. Everything he'd just done, he'd done while controlling the motorcycle with a single hand.

"Guess I've got not choice but to do a private concert. Fine. What do you want me to sing?" Dusk asked with a sly grin. He got off his bike. "Come on. Any requests? Let's hear 'em."

Matthew, his legs shaking so terribly he decided it was easier to keep sitting on the bike, hesitantly said, "I don't know if you should be taunting them, Mr. Dusk."

He faced Matthew and shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. What are they gonna do? Rant at me about the good old days until I get bored and pass out? Trust me, these losers are nothing but a bunch of-"

Matthew didn't get to find out what they were. A gunshot ripped through the silent night air. Dusk's cocky smile was still on his face as he froze and then collapsed. Behind him, one of the cloaked figures held a gun pointed at where the back of his head had just been, a wisp of smoke still rising from its barrel.

"JESUS CHRIST!" Matthew screamed. He scrambled backwards and fell off the bike. A jolt of pain shot through his back, but his mind was buzzing too loudly with the image of what had just happened to truly notice. Dusk was dead. Damian Dusk, one of the biggest stars in the world, had just been murdered in front of him.

"One less abomination. The world is better off for it," said the man who had the flask. He turned just slightly towards Dusk's killer. "…I would have preferred we took him alive given his unique circumstances, but this one will have to do."

The others calmly went over to Matthew and yanked him off the ground. He didn't even have the willpower to resist, not even as they held him and their leader approached with his bony hand extended. He pulled Matthew's hood down and looked at him closely. While the majority of his face was still hidden, Matthew could see the lower half of a gaunt, furless face of pale skin and a scowl full of missing teeth.

"Truly disgusting. You wear clothing and speak our language as if you were anything but a wild beast, yet clothes and tongue do not hide what you are," he hissed.

Matthew didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything, but even if he could, what was there to say? That he was sorry for not being like them? That he was sorry for being a wolf, something he had no control over? That no one but humans had the right to be considered people? He didn't care what others thought about his existence. To kill someone, though, that was entirely different. To put them down as though they really were nothing more than a rabid beast, that was inhuman.

Suddenly, the sound of a drumbeat and guitar filled the night's silence. Dusk's motorcycle had begun to play one of his songs from its speakers. It started out loud and powerful in opposition to the first song of the night, each beat pounding through them all.

"Look to the skies! Scream out your cries of the damned! Feeling hopeless, let it rise through the clouds!"

"What is that infernal racket?" the man growled.

"Ray of sunlight, dispelling their evil guise! Flesh turns to rot, suits turn to ash, with a roaring sound!"

"Someone destroy that awful contraption and its screeching!" he barked.

Before one of his companions could so much as take a step towards it, a confident chuckle joined the music.

"Like you could ever silence me or my music, grandpa," asked the same voice coming from the speakers, yet the voice itself wasn't from the speakers. Matthew's entire body went cold. How could they be hearing it? He'd just watched its owner get killed.

Despite the clear impossibility, the cloaked figures whipped around and gazed at Dusk's body. It still lay on the ground, motionless even as the song continued. Then, Matthew realized:

There was no bullet wound and no blood.

Dusk's arm twitched. While those around him watched in shock, he slowly pushed himself up and stood. He put his hand on the back of his neck, stretching his head in a circle as if waking from a long slumber.

"W-what unholy power is this!?" the man snarled.

"Let your prayers be heard!"

"Call it whatever you want while you can. You won't have teeth to speak with when I'm done with you. Or, uh…you'll have less teeth in your case," Dusk smirked. He picked up his bat and rested it on his shoulders.

"What are you all waiting for!? If we can't kill him, then capture him!" he snapped.

Dusk glanced at Matthew who looked back at him with wide eyes. "How about I wrap this up so I can get back to my concert? Can't keep my fans waiting."

"Call me down with just a word!"

Matthew nodded, everything he attempted to speak immediately becoming caught in his throat.

"I'll be your metal angel!"

Dusk stuck his hand out and beckoned to the cloaked figures. "Alright, then! Let's put on a show!"

Amidst the harsh but melodious sound of his own music, Dusk's eyes were lit up with glee as he rushed forward and swung his bat into the stomach of the nearest figure. Two of them lunged for him, but he ducked away, then spun and used the momentum to swing the bat into the back of one of their heads and kicked the other down before driving it into their stomach.

"My voice will tear them down, blow away their lies with my wings of sound!"

"Come on! Is that all you can do? Show me a good time!" he roared.

The figure holding Matthew released him and darted towards Dusk, their hand shrouded in a black flame. He ducked to avoid their grasp and swung upwards, then slammed them again while they were dazed. Another tried to come up behind him, but he flipped the bat around in the air, caught it by the handle, and jabbed it back into their stomach. Again and again, the cloaked figures picked themselves up and tried to grab him only to be met with a forceful swing of Dusk's bat until one by one, they went down and stayed down. Their leader, now the only one left, raised his hand to the sky. The knife from before appeared in his hand.

"When they drown you under the weight of their own sins…"

He flew at Dusk with both his blade and remaining teeth bared. Dusk lowered the tip of his bat to the ground. He slowly walked forward, gradually picking up speed until the metal scraped against it and produced a small shower of sparks. Baring his own teeth, he went into a full run and raised the bat.

"And you feel like there's nothing left to win…"

The two were mere feet away, the man's dagger ready to pierce Dusk's throat and Dusk's bat flying through the air in pursuit of its target.

"Just let me be…"

Just before the knife could touch Dusk, his bat collided with the man's head with a loud, sickening thud. The impact seemed to happen in slow motion, Dusk's wild eyes and half-scowl, half-grin against the man's disgust-turned-shock…and then it was over. The man spiraled to the ground and lay motionless.

"Your metal angel!"

Dusk exhaled and brought the bat up to rest on his shoulders while he looked down at Matthew. "Can't believe I let these losers try to sideline me. Me! I'm the damn main act! No way am I letting that happen!" he said. He jerked his head towards the bike which had gone silent again. "Come on. They're not as easy to kill as I'd like, but they're still not getting up any time soon. I've got a concert to finish, and you've got…something to do, probably."

Matthew blinked a few times in an attempt to shake himself out of the stupor he'd been in for the last several minutes. He'd seen Dusk die, but he didn't die, and then he'd taken on six people by himself with just a baseball bat. But he'd died. Matthew saw it happen, and there was no way that gun was fake. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been as surprised as he was to see Dusk get back up.

Unfortunately, not a single question he had would come out. He managed to stand, although with shaky legs, and make his way over to the bike where he held on tightly to Dusk again as they took off down the ramp. It was only when they reached the bottom floor and he got off the motorcycle that Matthew finally found his voice.

"What the hell just happened?" he asked, summarizing every one of his questions at once.

"You're gonna have to be more specific. Oh, and keep it quick. I plan to make my entrance, again, once the next song is over." He pulled a phone out of his pocket and checked it. "…which is soon. Damn it, I was looking forward to singing We've Lost Ourselves tonight. At least that's a long one, so I've got time to get there."

"You died, Mr. Dusk! I watched you get shot!" he exclaimed.

Dusk touched the area on his head where he'd been shot. "Oh, that? Easy. I'm sturdier than you'd think. Next question."

"So you…have superpowers?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. Well, not really. Unless you count that as a power, but it's not like I have control over it or anything."

The memory of one of Dusk's concerts appeared in his mind. It was all over the news within hours: a few years ago, he wanted a massive metal dragon to decorate the space above the stage to promote his new album, the cover of which featured that same dragon. In the middle of his set, the dragon came crashing down and seemed to crush him. The audience immediately panicked, but Dusk crawled out from under it completely unharmed and continued the concert, although without his guitar. His PR team had claimed that it was done on purpose, an incredible stunt to symbolize his resilience but a stunt nonetheless.

"That dragon…it wasn't a stunt. It really did crush you," said Matthew quietly.

"Nope. Sure wasn't," Dusk smirked. "Hurt like hell, but that's the worst of it. From what I can tell, can't die, can't get injured. Don't bother trying to tell anyone, though. PR won't like that."

"So they know?"

He pointed upwards. "Man, what do you think? Of course they do. Anyone who works closely with me does. Know how many times those freaks up there have come after me? Or someone from the Institute?"

"Speaking of which-" he started.

Dusk cut him off. "Ever heard of Council 1776?"

"…no?"

"Exactly." Dusk set his bat down, then rested his hands behind his head and his boots on the bike's handlebars. "Bunch of losers who think people with powers, or people like you and me, are manifestations of sin, or whatever. Some kind of old-ass cult, I think. Obviously, they don't think it's a problem when they use magic or powers they steal from people. DSA Institute, same thing in the opposite direction. They want to study us, find out why we're not like them."

"But I've never seen anyone from either," said Matthew.

"Yeah, because you're not on the national stage like I am. Easier to find out who to target when they're on TV all the time." He paused. "Didn't figure the Council would be bold enough to screw with the stage and send me back down in the middle of a crowd, though…or that they knew how a stage lift works. Just glad I stored my bat down there in case I needed it. There used to be seven of them, by the way."

"So you expected this?"

"Not this, but here's a lesson: always assume someone's about to do something stupid and work that into your plans."

For the first time that night, Matthew found himself agreeing with Dusk. As the one frequently in charge of managing others, working under the assumption that someone was going to be an idiot often served him well.

"Just didn't think they'd be that stupid," he continued. "Guess they're getting desperate which, I mean, I get it. It's me we're talking about. Who wouldn't be desperate for me? But as for you…now that the Council knows about you, can't say they won't try for an encore."

"They don't have anything better to do?"

Dusk tilted his head to the side. "You're weirdly chill about having a cult after you. Also, no. They pretty much just do this all day. Oh, and chant. Heard there's a lot of chanting."

He shrugged. "What am I supposed to do about it? If they want to waste their time going after someone insignificant like me, that's their problem."

"Good answer. Probably won't end well for you, but a good answer anyway." He checked his phone again and sat back on his bike properly. "Well, time to get going. Next song begins soon, and I plan to make an entrance with a capital E."

"How? There's no time to get you back below stage," Matthew reminded him.

Dusk picked up his bat and looked at him incredulously. "Seriously? I'm Damian Dusk. I can do whatever the hell I want, so if I want to make an entrance, you can be damn sure that's what I'll do." He gave Matthew a short wave. "See you. Well, probably not unless I do another concert here. Either way, thanks for the fun. Had a great time."

With that, Dusk swerved his bike around and rocketed up the ramp. Within seconds, he and the sound of the engine were gone.

Matthew stood there for a moment. No part of him could believe what had just happened, but every part had vastly different reasons. He'd ridden on the back of Damian Dusk's motorcycle and been so close to him that he could smell his cologne. He'd been chased by members of a racist cult, discovered that Dusk was essentially immortal, and had his life saved by the biggest rockstar in the world. That same rockstar was also incredibly full of himself, selfish, childish, and didn't even think to ask how Matthew was doing after his near-death experience.

What a jerk.

---

He had to find out what Dusk meant by "making an entrance" from the headlines later. By the time he got back to the control room and shot an unamused stare at anyone who asked what took him so long, Dusk was already back on stage and performing to a crowd that was cheering so loudly the music itself was almost impossible to hear. He then had to coordinate the cleanup after the concert was over, which Dusk, of course, provided no assistance with. Thankfully, their scuffle with the Council left no traces; Matthew checked on the garage's top floor but found no bloodstains or bodies. Wherever they'd gone, they weren't there anymore and that meant they weren't his problem. He deleted the camera footage from the garage, just in case, and continued with the normal duties of his job while hoping the person whose car became a ramp wasn't concerned enough about the damage to ask for the now non-existent evidence.

Finally, working through the night and finishing just after the sun came up, Matthew clocked out and left Nova Hall with an intense yawn. Thankfully, the chilly morning air and gentle sunlight helped invigorate him, at least enough to get back home. He went to the nearest monorail station and was lucky enough to have a compartment to himself, and while this normall meant he could take a nap, he resisted the urge to sleep since he knew he'd be out for a while the moment he did. Instead, he watched Cosmopolis pass outside the window. The city was clean and technologically forward, its people were kind, and almost all of their needs were taken care of. Basic guaranteed income and well-paying jobs meant they could live almost anywhere they wanted, and utilities like electricity and water were subsidized by the city. With its people having more money to spend, Cosmopolis's economy thrived.

Yet, it wasn't perfect; people filled with greed and hatred did their best to undo the city's progress now and then while supervillains like Curtain Call occasionally showed up to deal more immediate damage. Someone always stopped them; the mayor and the city's representatives, heroes like Foxgirl or Moonlight, or even regular people like the victim of Curtain Call last week who took matters into their own hands (although the police refused to divulge exactly who), someone always saved the day in the end. Still, there was a persistent, unstated fear that the heroes wouldn't win next time. There simply can't be perfection without the threat of losing it. That was just how the world worked. And now, Matthew knew there was another force out there that could end the perfection at any time. The Council seemed intent on making Dusk's life miserable. Now that they knew about Matthew, they could do the same for him. Not to mention the Institute that Dusk mentioned, whoever they were.

Then again, they might not. In the end, who cares?

Rather than dwell on possibilities, he scrolled the news on his phone until he came to a story about the previous night's concert. Written by Thomas Terran and published just a few moments ago, it was basically guaranteed to be factual and fair. The one exception was when it came to Moonlight; Terran often wrote about him in such a reverent way that Matthew, among many others, suspected he might have a bit of a crush despite his insistence otherwise. Being an article about Dusk, however, he trusted it to be neutral.

"By all accounts, last night's concert by rock and metal legend Damian Dusk was a roaring success," it read. "Nova Hall's 1,500 seats were all filled within seconds of tickets going on sale. While most artists dream of selling that many seats, such a show is actually quite small for Mr. Dusk whose concerts are typically held in stadiums and theaters with capacities over 10,000, his largest to date being in Aquapolis Stadium last year with a capacity of nearly 100,000. Even covering him is a task entrusted to few, and yours truly had to wrestle it away from other reporters and get to the office extremely early to have the honor. I'll be speaking more about it on my show tonight, but there is one part of the event I wanted to address now before the rumors begin circulating: Dusk's bold choice to vanish and reappear mid-concert."

There it was. He didn't feel too worried about someone seeing Dusk beat up a bunch of cultists with a bat. If anything, that would just increase his popularity. The more pressing concern was what people would say if they saw the Event Coordinator for his concert with him on the rooftop. He couldn't even begin to imagine the rumors that would start flying or, almost worse, the interviews he'd have to give. Thankfully, it seemed no one had noticed:

"Damian Dusk is no stranger to unique methods. Five years ago in 2022, when all anyone knew of him was his voice and a perfectly human shadow behind a screen during all live performances, he took a bat and smashed through the screen during his third song to reveal who he truly was to the world. Three years ago, Dusk arranged what seemed like an unfortunate accident with a massive steel dragon that he emerged from unscathed, no doubt a message to us all that there isn't a force in the world that can bring him down. Last night, just as his second song began, the lights went out. When they returned, he'd left the stage. Yet, he continued to sing from wherever he'd gone and returned halfway through the concert by speeding his motorcycle back into the auditorium through the main doors. I admit that I've never seen anything quite like it (no one seemed to have noticed but yes, I personally attended and saw it for myself. In fact, I sat on the edge of the row and had the perfect view of him passing by)."

Matthew chuckled lightly. Dusk's fame really was blinding if it drowned out the presence of the most well-loved reporter in Cosmopolis.

"Perhaps this is another message for us all: even when it seems like he's gone, he's going to keep singing and being himself until he finds a way back. "No matter what, the world hasn't seen the last of Damian Dusk", it seems like he's claiming. I think I speak for all of us when I say: I couldn't be more glad to hear that. Keep on rocking, Mr. Dusk. We'll be right there in your audience, waiting to hear your next song with pounding hearts."

Once again, Dusk had turned things around. As frustrating as he was, Matthew couldn't help feeling a little impressed. He seemed to face every bit of adversity with his head held high, and when it was over, he was always the one left standing. Immortal or not, whether due to his appearance, accidents, or cultist kidnappers, he was able to take situations that would break anyone else and use them to elevate himself even higher.

"If only he wasn't the lamest person on the planet in real life," Matthew muttered to himself as he put his phone away.

The monorail passed through the center of a number of apartment complexes, stopping for a short time at each. When it reached the last, Matthew stood up and shambled over to the door, ready to collapse on his bed the moment he got home. At least he'd been given the next two days off for all the work he did alone, plus a large bonus and his usual three days off on top of that which meant nearly the entire next week away from work. That helped take the edge off a bit.

He opened the door to his apartment on the fourteenth floor and was immediately greeted by an orange cat that wrapped himself around his leg and meowed at him indignantly, as if to ask him how he could dare leave for so long.

"I'm sorry, Custard. I'm a terrible person for abandoning my little baby boy," he chuckled, scratching the cat behind his ears.

Custard meowed again, likely agreeing with his statement. He led Matthew over to his food bowl which was full of food except for an empty ring in the center. He then stared up at him with big, pleading eyes.

"You literally have food right there. Just eat around the edges," said Matthew gently.

Custard meowed in disagreement.

With a playful roll of his eyes, Matthew shook the food bowl a bit so that it all spread out evenly again. Custard quickly looked back down at it, then up at Matthew again like he'd just performed magic before shoving his face into the bowl and beginning to eat.

His cat taken care of and given both food and love, Matthew barely had time to go to his bedroom and take his shoes off before a doorbell rang.

"…I have a doorbell?" Matthew said aloud.

He heard Custard meow in reply from the other room.

"Thank you, Custard. I value your opinion."

He didn't get visitors often, and the few he did get were his friends who arrived by invitation and simply let themselves in, so there was no need to ring the bell that apparently existed. Anyone coming just texted him when they arrived…or left the food outside his door. He wasn't expecting anyone, or any deliveries, however.

"…please don't be some weird cultist," he groaned. He at least wanted time to sleep before having to deal with that. He went to the door and opened it just a crack-

"Hi. I'm coming in," said Dusk, pushing the door (and Matthew) aside and strutting into the apartment. He'd changed out of his concert attire and now had on regular, if still stylishly torn white jeans, a black t-shirt that hugged his frame, and high-top shoes. He'd kept the chain and rainbow bracelet, though, as well as his sunglasses and added fingerless leather gloves. Even on his own time, he seemed incapable of not dressing for attention.

"…hi?" said Matthew.

Dusk placed his a hand on his hip and looked around. "Wow. You really live here?"

The apartment was clean, fairly spacious, and had a good view of Cosmopolis below. The balcony connected to the living room via a glass door, in particular, was somewhere Matthew liked to sit with a hot cup of tea or coffee and a few cookies. Therefore, he had absolutely no idea what Dusk was talking about and even less of an idea about why he was there at all.

"Mr. Dusk? What are you doing here? How'd you even know where I live?" he asked.

Dusk waved a hand. "Paid Envoy like fifty bucks, same as anyone else who needs information. Heard from Dregs that's how you tracked down a case of Hitari for me. That's what gave me the idea, actually."

He went over to the couch and hopped on, resting his feet on the coffee table. He glanced down at the sound of a loud meow. Custard was looking up at him in surprise.

"Uh, sorry about him. He doesn't really like anyone, so he'll probably run if you try to-" Matthew began, yet his mouth fell open when Dusk reached down and stroked Custard's back, eliciting a content purr.

"Sorry, what? I stopped paying attention when I learned there was a cat," said Dusk. Custard hopped up on the couch and nuzzled against him, earning even more pets.

"How in the…Custard's never done that before, not even with me. Took me weeks to get his trust. How'd you get it so fast?" Matthew asked.

"Custard, huh? Cute name. Simple, not really imaginative, but it works. Music is like that sometimes. You don't do what's never been done, just what you need to. Anyway! Come here, gotta talk to you about-" He suddenly paused and looked Matthew up and down. "…why are you still wearing the same clothes as yesterday? Also, you don't keep any of your nails sharp? Really?"

Matthew sat in the seat opposite the couch and hoped a Hover, one of Cosmopolis's unique flying cars, wouldn't come by and see a superstar casually sitting in his living room. "I just don't like how sharp nails feel against my shoes, or my hands. And I haven't had time to change yet, I just got home."

Dusk paused. "Seriously? How?"

"…because I had to clean up after your concert?" Matthew replied slowly, unsure if Dusk was just messing with him.

"Good news, then: you're already used to it, so you get to clean up after my concerts all the time now," he declared.

There was a moment of awkward silence, at least for Matthew, while he waited for Dusk to explain what he was talking about.

"So…you're going to have more concerts at Nova Hall?" he asked when no explanation came.

"What? No. I mean, maybe eventually. Kinda cute little place, I like it," said Dusk regarding the massive, 1,500 person capacity theater. He pointed at Matthew. "I meant you have the honor of working directly for me instead of Nova Hall. You know, manage my concerts at other places. That sort of thing."

"Isn't that Mr. Dregs's job?"

"Nah, he deals with the bigger picture. Gets it all started, then you'll handle the details. Kinda like what you do now, except for every venue we go to. Next concert is-"

"Whoa, hold on a minute," said Matthew, throwing his hands up. "I'm not sure I understand. Let me try to summarize this: you're asking me, some random guy, to quit my job at Nova Hall and work personally for you, Damian Dusk, an international music icon, to coordinate your events. What part of that have I misunderstood?"

Dusk peered at him over his sunglasses. "What part did I not make clear? Seems like you've got it all down."

More silence.

"Hey, if you don't want the job then turn it down. I mean, you do want it, obviously. Who wouldn't? But maybe you're more lame than I thought," said Dusk. He stood up looked in the direction of Matthew's bedroom, the door of which was closed. "What's in there? Your room? If you're gonna work for me, I want to see it."

Matthew bolted off the chair and ran between Dusk and his bedroom door before Dusk could take more than a few steps towards it. "Absolutely not," he said forcefully.

"What, you got weird magazines in there or something?" Dusk smirked.

Instead of replying to the taunt, Matthew said, "I never even agreed to work for you. I don'tget why you're asking me."

"Trust me, it wasn't my idea," he grunted. "Got nothing against the work you did, but I'm not into the idea of having fans turn into roadies."

"Who said I was one of your fans?" Matthew asked bluntly.

Dusk shrugged. "Who isn't? Anyway, like I said it wasn't my idea. It was Dregs, he said it was better to keep you close since the Council knows about you now."

"Oh. So he also knows about me riding on your motorcycle?"

"No, I left that part out. He thinks you just met me up there." He glared at Matthew. "And if you're smart, you'll stick to that story."

"Alright."

"Anyone ever tell you that you're too easy?"

Matthew stared at him until he decided to move on and say something else.

"…anyway, he also said you did decent work so you'd be a good addition regardless. I guess he's got a point on both. Hell, you put together that entire concert almost by yourself and it went perfectly. Uh…more or less. But yeah, gonna be a lot of work but pay's good, probably better than whatever Nova Hall gives you-"

"80,000 a year plus bonus and overtime, four-day weeks, a month of paid vacation that's cashed out if unused, and free tickets to any event we're not working," Matthew listed.

"See? That's basically nothing! I mean, explains this," he said, gesturing to the apartment. "So you in or not? I'm a busy guy, got another concert here in Cosmopolis to prepare for tomorrow night, then a charity show in Garden City next week. Don't have time to hang around here all day-"

"Fine, I'll do it," said Matthew quickly.

"…you will?"

Custard appeared and nuzzled his head against Dusk's leg, getting another set of pets in return. Matthew pointed to his cat. "Custard likes you, and that doesn't mean nothing. Besides, not like I've got much else to do. So yeah. As long as I still get paid around the same amount, I'll do it. When do I start?"

Dusk flashed him a cocky grin and removed his sunglasses. Something about the way he looked at him made Matthew's heart drop as he wondered what he'd just gotten himself into.

"In that case…uh, what's your name again?"

"Matthew Mills."

"Right. In that case, Matthew Mills, our brand new Show Coordinator which is definitely not a position we made up just for you_…_welcome to the world of Damian Dusk. I'll settle the details with Dregs and have him send all the lame-ass paperwork over to you within the hour." He put his sunglasses back on and began to leave.

"Before you go," said Matthew, "are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, I'm not new to setting these things up, but still. I'm a nobody. You wouldn't prefer someone, you know…a little more well-known?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Fame doesn't mean talent, but regardless, there's only one thing I can say." He opened the door, and just before exiting, he looked back and smirked. "All eyes are on you now, Mills, so you better buckle up and get ready to rock with the best."