Page 28 of After Effect

“What if we offered an exclusive track, to only be heard on KRAW for the first month.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“I’ll pick the strongest track on the album, and we’ll separate it out as a single for the wide release. Listeners who love the song will chime in to their station to get the chance to hear it, and we can offer a small commission on digital downloads via their website.”

“Interesting. I don’t hate the idea.” He folded his hands on his desk. “I can make the proposal to Clinton. He heads the Whirl Media Group. There won’t be an argument.”

Just like that?

“And in return…” He continued.

Not just like that.

“I have an errand for you. Just a simple delivery.”

“A delivery?” Why not just use the post office?

“You’re still an intern, Corbin. This is hardly above you.”

Unnecessary. “Of course. That won’t be a problem, sir.”

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ALIVE Records apparently had some kind of warehouse in Long Beach. It was a solid two hours of driving from the downtown office when I left after work. I tuned in to KRAW for the whole ride, listening for any subtleties and idiosyncrasies in Greg Winner’s presentation that might give me more insight into his character and tastes. Any advantage I could find.

When I arrived at the warehouse, it was as massive as it was nondescript. A blank canvas of a building, with bricks painted in dirty white, a half-assed graffiti on the back wall, and rust on the bars over the office window. I knocked on a door with chipping paint. This didn’t feel at all like what I expected of an entertainment company warehouse.

I knocked again. It was nearly two minutes before someone answered the door. When they did, he was a short, yet incredibly average looking, man. He had shaggy hair, and tired grey eyes atop a bland flannel shirt.

“You must be Corbin.” He nodded to himself. “Where’s your car parked?”

“It’s just down the street… Is this package big?” I eyed the man suspiciously. He didn’t invite me in. He didn’t extend his hand. He didn’t even introduce himself.

“Pull it around back. I’ll meet you out there.” The man closed the door in my face. It was a few seconds before it registered that he wasn’t coming back. I turned on my heel and walked down to my black Mercedes. I rolled into the alleyway, squeezing past a semi that didn’t remotely fit in the spot it was parked in, then backed up against the garage.

An aluminum door slid upward as I got out of the car.

“Pop your trunk.”

“Of course.” I held the remote at eye level and pressed the button. Without another word, he tucked a briefcase in my trunk, then slammed it shut. I winced just watching him manhandle my poor car. “Is that all?”

“Yep.” As quickly as he came, the man disappeared into the warehouse and shut the door.

Well that was strange. If it’s just a briefcase it would have fit in the cab.

I shrugged and got back in the car. The delivery point was right by Lilly’s. I picked up my phone and hovered over her number…

No, probably shouldn’t text her. By the time I got out there, it would be long passed dark.

I sat through traffic on the 405. By the time I got to the 101, it was late enough for the roads to open up. On the other side of those 80 miles, I pulled into a parking lot in an outdoor mall.

I checked the address Baek had texted me again. It coincided perfectly with… A pizza place? Dropping off a delivery to a pizza place? The irony wasn’t lost on me.

I kept my lights on as I moved around to the trunk. I reached took a hold of the briefcase and hoisted it out of my car.

Oh fuck that’s heavy. The weight of the case nearly pulled my arm from its socket. What the fuck. Am I delivering a box of lead?

The shop was dark, not a single light showing through the full length windows. Chairs were already atop the tables. Am I too late? Did I already miss my opportunity?

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