Hint

After half an hour of filming, the New York University version of the Harlem shake was finally complete.

"As for the editing..." Ryan came over to Elizabeth.

"It'd be best if we handled that," Elizabeth said.

"And the release..."

"We'll have to handle that, too," Elizabeth continued.

"Then I'll leave it to you. Sorry for the trouble," Ryan said, nodding quickly.

In the end, Ryan gave her her phone number. They parted ways in the park, and Ryan returned to the nightclub.

Ryan's performances in New York lasted three days, not just one. With the extra day he'd spent in Harlem, he wouldn't be able to get back to school until Wednesday.

Ryan only saw Marvin in the lounge.

"Running into you two was just..." Marvin was still holding a grudge over what had happened before, but then he changed tack. "But compared to that idiot, I have more faith in you, even if you've caused me plenty of trouble yourself."

"Take a look at Beatport. You'll be in for a surprise." Marvin sat on the lounge sofa with one leg crossed over the other, his gleaming dress shoe bouncing up and down.

Ryan did as he was told, and there on Beatport's 24-hour Best Sellers list was his "Tremor." It was only in the fifties, but the sales data showed that more than three thousand copies had sold yesterday alone. Word of mouth was clearly starting to build.

At $1.29 per copy, yesterday's sales on Beatport alone had brought in over four thousand dollars. Even after taking out the thirty-percent distribution fee, that still left a full three thousand.

"Want me to recommend an accountant? He's very professional. You'll need to start filing your second-quarter taxes in June," Marvin reminded him.

Ryan shook his head. Trey had already thought of that. She'd have the production company's accountant take care of it for him.

"You're pretty professional, kid. That new song of yours yesterday wasn't bad, either. I have a feeling you could surpass Deadmau5." Marvin narrowed his eyes and watched Ryan. He'd seen yesterday's show, too. As someone in the industry, he had a sense that this young man was different from other young DJs. His movements onstage were stiff, but the EDM he produced was good enough to make up for it.

"Allow me to properly introduce myself. I'm Marvin Zimmerman, and I'm currently in charge of WME's global electronic music division. My last name's the same as Deadmau5's, but don't worry, he's definitely not my illegitimate son," Marvin said with a laugh.

"A big company?"

Marvin shrugged. "Electronic music is still pretty niche right now. The number of people paying attention is growing fast, but I'm actually the entire department all by myself."

Ryan nodded. He was logging into the dashboards of other paid music download platforms, but on every one besides Beatport, his music was still being ignored. In other words, only the core audience for electronic music liked listening to "Tremor," and nearly all of those people were in Europe.

"Maybe electronic music will become mainstream before long?" Ryan ventured.

Marvin nodded. "It's possible. The crowds at Ultra Music Festival get bigger every year, nightclubs are doing better and better, and DJs' fees keep climbing. The industry's growing fast, but the public hasn't noticed yet. Look at it this way: we're a lot luckier than those rock musicians. Electronic music's bound to produce a true superstar. Maybe it'll be someone else, or maybe it'll be you."

"Ryan, we could keep working together, couldn't we?" Marvin suddenly asked. In his eyes, Ryan had far more potential than Deadmau5.

·

"When are you coming back?" Abigail's voice came through the phone.

It was already late at night. After finishing his performance for the day, Ryan was having a late-night meal with Joel. They were eating Americanized Chinese food, Orange Chicken and the like, which was cloyingly sweet.

"I'll get to Nashville the night after tomorrow," Ryan said.

"Then you'll make it in time for my swimming competition." Abigail sounded excited.

"That's great," Ryan replied offhandedly.

But Abigail immediately changed her tune. "What's so great about it? The competition's already over, and you don't even know exactly when it was!"

"How'd you do?" Ryan asked, momentarily stunned. His mind had been full of the Harlem shake these past two days.

"I got first place, by sheer luck." Abigail sounded smug.

"That probably means I'll get the scholarship. But after the competition, my face was kind of purple. I hope that won't be a problem," Abigail said, sounding a little unsure.

Since the competition would determine whether she got a scholarship, it didn't just test strength and technique. Chemistry and technology were part of it, too.

"What about everyone else?"

"Their faces were even more purple than mine," Abigail said with a laugh.

After Ryan reassured her for a while, Abigail finally hung up, satisfied.

As soon as they'd ended the call, another number rang.

"Um... You're probably not asleep, are you?" said a relatively unfamiliar voice on the other end.

"I'm having a late-night snack."

"You must be exhausted."

"You too, aren't you?"

"I'm busy working on your video. You know how it is: when the sorority has an event with food and fun, everyone's eager to join in, but when it involves boring work, everyone suddenly gets busy. Anyway, I've finished your video. Give me your email, and I'll send it over so you can take a look," Elizabeth said over the phone.

"Sure."

Ryan hung up.

Joel had already gotten up and was looking through Ryan's Facebook. By 2004, Facebook had already spread among American college students, and by the end of that year it had passed one million users. In 2006, Facebook officially opened registration to users over thirteen, and by now it had over a hundred million registered users.

In other words, if something became popular among college students, there was a good chance it would spread to society as a whole.

"This girl's gorgeous," Joel said, looking at a selfie on Ryan's Facebook.

Ryan came over and told him how he'd met her.

"Then introduce me, will you?" Joel grinned lecherously.

"She's studying in Australia. There's a fourteen-hour time difference. You sure?" Ryan asked.

"Maybe not, then... But how'd you become Facebook friends in the first place?" Joel realized that was the key question.

"She asked if I had Facebook, so I gave her my account. That's all."

"Shit, you even replied to her photo with, 'You there? Show me your legs.' You've got no shame." Joel scoffed.

"Everyone appreciates beautiful things," Ryan said with a smile.

"Did she send you any?"

Ryan shook his head vigorously.

It wasn't that he wanted to keep her all to himself. He just didn't want Joel getting in too deep. It was for his own good.

Just then, Ryan's phone rang again.

"How many women call you every day?" Joel muttered as he opened Ryan's Myspace, looking for any pretty fans.

"Hello..." Ryan had already answered.

"You're still awake? Who are you flirting with now?" The voice on the other end sounded positively ominous.

"How could I sleep before hearing from you?" Ryan replied.

"Is New York fun? Are the girls pretty?" Taylor asked.

"You mean the girls with beards longer than mine?" Ryan said.

"Hmph. I bet there's one lying next to you right now," Taylor said, unconvinced.

"Joel, make a couple of noises for me," Ryan said, turning his phone toward Joel.

"Ah, Ryan, you're so good! Oh, oh, come on, baby," Joel said without looking back.

"I've already told Abigail all about this, the whole truth," Taylor giggled.

"Then you might as well tell her about what happened between us before, too," Ryan said.

"What happened? I don't remember," Taylor said evasively.

"Want me to jog your memory, or should I just upload it to the internet? I could really use the attention," Ryan continued.

"Are you threatening me? If you don't upload it, go to hell!" Taylor seemed intent on provoking him.

"Forget it. I've got a new song now, with a pretty unusual style. Maybe I can get plenty of attention with it," Ryan said, bringing up the new song.

"Wake up. It's time to get out of bed."

"It's time to go to sleep. You're not mad about me and Abigail, are you?" Ryan probed.

"Why would I be? I can't thank you enough. Thanks for giving me a new song. Everyone thinks it's great," Taylor said. On the surface, she was talking about the song, but what she really meant was Ryan.

"Good." Ryan hung up.

·

Meanwhile, in Nashville.

Taylor put down her phone and flipped through the Billboard magazine in her hands. Before the internet came along, Billboard's magazine business had accounted for a large part of its revenue. For years, Billboard magazine had relied on its charts to drive sales.

The magazine made it clear: Taylor's "Should've Said No" had fallen to fourth on the country music chart. Carrie Underwood's "All-American Girl" was currently number one, and Taylor felt under siege.

She decided to set off the bomb she'd planted earlier soon. It was the song she'd given Ryan, but only if he caught on and played along.

But now, Ryan had a new song of his own! It had become the biggest obstacle to her plan.

"How are you supposed to get famous without me? Dream on!" Taylor scoffed, pulled the covers over herself, and closed her eyes.