Positive Publicity

"...but your people went and shut off the music, which alerted the three of them. So my two football teammates and I chased after them. You know the rest." Ryan calmly recounted what had happened.

The officer sitting across from him wrote down Ryan's account, then turned to the police chief beside him.

Seeing no reaction from his superior, he nodded at Ryan. "Given your reason for pursuing them, you and your classmates won't be charged with assault. You're free to—"

The police chief suddenly raised a hand, cutting his subordinate off.

He got to his feet and walked over to Ryan. Looking at the small cuts on the back of his hand, he gave a cold snort.

"Playing the hero in front of a girl makes you feel cool? Do you know how dangerous that was? What if those three Black guys had guns?" he scolded Ryan, though he seemed to be putting on a stern front. With his broad, fleshy face and almost no hair, the chief looked downright menacing.

"Suspects escape every day. Unless the City Council gives us more funding, there's nothing anyone can do. Now get out, and don't let me see you around here again, kid." He waved Ryan away.

When Ryan returned to the station lobby, he saw Hank waiting for him. Hank had already finished being questioned.

"Paul went to the local hospital to get his injuries treated. Also..." Hank glanced at the people beside him. It was Deadmau5 and his group.

As some of the people caught up in the incident, they'd also been brought in for a few questions and to give statements about what had happened.

"Chasing suspects is no reason to wreck someone else's stuff, is it?" Deadmau5 said, looking pained as he stared at Ryan.

That shattered oversized helmet wasn't just some simple stage prop. The two white eyes had LED tubes inside, synchronized through a control panel or programming to change with the rhythm of the music. Besides the basic music monitoring system inside, the helmet's open mouth was made of special perforated material, allowing its wearer to see outside. It also had cooling and ventilation features, as well as extra supports and fastenings.

In short, it was an unusual piece of gear that had to be custom-made and contained multiple devices. There was no way to get a replacement within a few days.

"Don't you have a spare?" Ryan asked.

"Of course I do." Deadmau5 stared at Ryan. He wore a baseball cap, and his slight build was no match for the tall, broad-shouldered Ryan. He looked terribly thin.

"But your classmate crushed the other spare, too. The tall, skinny one. Zimmerman's personal computer was also completely wrecked. It had a bunch of music projects he was working on, and it's been sent to Apple's local service center. We don't know if they can recover the data." One of Deadmau5's companions chimed in.

Ryan looked embarrassed. He hadn't expected things to go so badly through a chain of misunderstandings. He apologized first, then recounted what had happened.

"I've already heard the officers go over it, and I know you weren't mainly to blame. Your brave actions deserve praise and respect. You're just students, after all. I guess I'm the unlucky one here." Deadmau5 sighed.

Ryan breathed a sigh of relief.

Then Deadmau5 changed the subject and pointed to a row of seats nearby. Abigail and the other students were sitting there, too far away to have noticed Ryan.

"Your friends told me you're from Nashville, and that you're a local DJ whose electronic music is pretty popular. Is that right?"

Ryan nodded repeatedly, explaining that he'd come to Florida to look for opportunities at the Winter Music Conference.

"Then can I hear your music?" Deadmau5 asked.

His colleague immediately added, "Zimmerman is one of the five, if not three, most well-known electronic musicians in North America. Last year, he founded the independent label Mau5trap in Canada to give new DJs a good environment to develop. We have a strong relationship with EMI, and we're planning a massive tour across North America this year."

"Enough. I don't even know what I'm going to tell Marvin." Deadmau5 took off his baseball cap and ruffled his hair. The Beach Bash was just a side stop; the real main event was Ultra Music Festival in a few days.

The festival had drawn more than 50,000 people the year before. This year marked its tenth anniversary, and the organizers had put together an incredible lineup to celebrate. Two of the Top 100 DJs ranked in DJ Magazine's top three would be there. Tiesto, Paul van Dyk, Carl Cox, Armin van Buuren, Benny Benassi, David Guetta, and a host of other famous DJs were all set to perform.

Deadmau5 didn't want to miss the event for anything, but at the worst possible moment, his most essential equipment had been destroyed...

"Hey, little mouse! I heard you got hauled into the station?! What the hell happened?"

A deep voice came from the station entrance. Everyone turned to see a fat man walking in, wearing a floral shirt, long shorts, and a straw hat. With him was a curvy woman with a distinctly Central American look, wearing high heels and a long dress that left her entire back bare.

"The plane had already taken off and was headed straight for Amelia Island. It would've arrived this evening, but now I had to make the pilot turn around. I've already paid for the round trip, so you'd better explain yourself—or you're paying me back." The man shouted as he approached.

"I knew it."

Ryan heard Deadmau5 mutter under his breath, his brow furrowed.

"Marvin, I may have to pull out of this year's Ultra Music Festival," Deadmau5 told the plump, middle-aged man. He seemed to be Deadmau5's business partner, maybe his booking agent.

Marvin looked from Ryan to Deadmau5.

"Does the media know about this? If word gets out, you're finished, Zimmerman. He's an adult, right?" Marvin asked.

"Ahem, it's probably not what you think." Deadmau5 shook his head with an awkward smile and began explaining what had happened.

Marvin understood, then turned to Ryan and studied him from head to toe, examining him carefully and missing no detail.

"You sure you can't perform?"

"Both helmets are broken. There's no way to fix them in a few days."

Marvin addressed Ryan in a stern voice. "You little punk, you've made us break our contract. Call your parents. We need to have a serious talk about this."

"Marvin..." Deadmau5 said, clearly feeling sorry for Ryan.

"This isn't just your problem anymore. It affects me, too. Do you know how much we stand to lose on a round trip? All because of a few clueless high school kids. Someone needs to teach them a lesson." Marvin wasn't about to let it go. He turned to Ryan again and slowly continued, frowning.

"But considering how much time and effort a lawsuit would take—and the fact that you're broke—I've got a special way to make this right."

"Come clean. Tell the public the performance gear was damaged while you were trying to catch criminals. The audience will understand. We could even bring this young man to the show with us. He's a DJ too, right? Let him be a special guest performer! The festival's gotten plenty of complaints over the past couple of years. He could give it some positive publicity and show people that rave parties aren't just full of people drinking, doing drugs, and having casual sex!"

"What do you think of that plan?" Marvin asked Deadmau5.

"What about the helmet?" Deadmau5 asked suddenly.

Before Marvin could answer, Ryan spoke up. "It'll be easy to find a replacement for the helmet. Don't forget, there's a Disneyland in Orlando."

"I'll roast in that thing," Deadmau5 protested, shaking his head.

"No problem. This young man can take over the rest of your set." Marvin burst out laughing.