Chapter 31: Hybrid Build

Seated on the bench situated at the front porch of the farmhouse, the early morning breeze gently tousled Niall’s dirty-blonde hair.

Reflected in his irises however were his plated icons, each revolving in a shared revolution as they hovered over his palms.

Once again, the master icon was vibrating, seemingly gearing to spit out a new icon.

Yet, Niall’s focus remained solely on the microphone icon, one whose saturation was now a half-silver and a half-gold.

Seeing this, he couldn’t help but feel rather chuffed, a proud smile touching his lips.

Afterall, it was a testament to his growth as versatile artist.

Curiously, his gaze shifted and landed upon the fountain pen icon.

’No dice, huh?’ he muttered to himself.

Considering the number of songs he’d written these past couple months, Niall had been hoping for a reaction of sorts from the gold-plated icon.

And though that hadn’t been what he’d been after when he wrote [Polaroid] a couple hours ago, he did find it a tad bit disappointing that it still remained the same.

’Hmmm. I guess the higher my skills progress, the harder it is to improve upon them,’ Niall mused to himself.

’Has to be that.’ he surmised.

’That said,’ his gaze shifted from the fountain pen icon to the newly expunged one... or rather, ones.

A musical note icon.

And a guitar icon.

All this while, even despite realizing the limitless potential he’d had, Niall hadn’t tried to test the limits of the master icon.

One was because he’d been too busy with several other things, especially the writing of [Silver Comets].

The other was because he’d been over-dependent on the DAW app for all the tunes he needed for his songs.

It was only after he’d been on his way home yesterday that it had occurred to him that he hadn’t actually played an instrument once since he’d began this musical journey of his, hence why he went on a side quest to get one.

That said, as he watched the revolving, silver-plated guitar icon, Niall couldn’t help but tilt his head in genuine curiosity.

’I wonder why.’ he pondered to himself.

If memory served him right--which it in fact always did thanks to his Gift of Recollection--the last time he ever played a guitar was for a play in high school.

Granted it hadn’t been the easiest tune for a beginner, it wasn’t anything overly complex.

It was also that same tune he had reworked on the fly, transforming it into the beautiful acoustic tune he had played to his parents.

Still, that was the only reason he could attribute to his skill grade for something he’d been so rusty on, being of the good tier.

Then there was the musical note.

It equally bloomed a striking silver, a grading Niall was pleasantly surprised by.

It seemed like all the tunes he’d been creating and sampling these past couple months had really paid off... though he was a bit curious as to why it was only popping up now.

Attributing it to the fact that he’d really just composed an actual tune he intended to use for a proper song a couple hours ago, he decided not to overthink it.

Afterall, the master icon seemed to react based off of a genuine need or want for a skill he was interested in utilizing.

That said, as Niall recalled the song in his mind, he couldn’t help but feel there was so much more he could do to improve it.

It was bound to lead him down a rabbit hole of also getting several other instruments, but that was fine.

It would only serve to bolster his repertoire.

Just as he dismissed the icons, his parents walked out the front door, their eyes slightly puffy as Clark commented, two mugs of ginger tea in his hands;

"Mind you, I wanted to ask what you planned to use that guitar for yesterday, but it slipped my mind,"

"Who knew you’d be using it to give us the waterworks first thing in the morning."

Turning over to face them, Niall replied with a warm smile instead as they walked towards him;

"But you loved it, right?"

Handing him the other mug, Clark simply nodded while his mother responded;

"We did darlin’. We did,"

"Though, I do have to say that if you were to play it again, I’d probably fill a water bowl with tears of joy." she added, earning a warm chuckle from her son and her husband.

Taking their seats on his respective sides, she then asked;

"I’m guessing you wrote that song yesterday?"

"Technically, today. I started after midnight." Niall replied and took a sip of the tea.

"Golly. I didn’t know I was raising not just a great actor and a best-selling author, but a musical genius as well." she joked.

Clark’s chuckle rang loudest this time, his mirth on full display.

Soon enough, he inquired;

"So,"

"Are you planning on joining a record label now?"

Niall allowed that question to settle for a few seconds, a thoughtful expression painting his features.

Yes, he had previously decided to make use of organizations that had more resources than him.

But that was a decision he had come to when he’d assumed he would simply be an actor et author only.

Even now, his decisions on those two remained as is. He would be better off with an agency as an actor and going down the traditional route of publishing as an author.

However, as a budding musician, Niall couldn’t help but feel different.

For one, he wasn’t planning on making that artistry his main focus.

Rather, music to him was practically an added bonus to what he already had.

Also, since he hadn’t been as involved in making music as he had acting and writing before his regression, he wanted enough breathing room and time to explore this new path of his as best as he could.

Lastly, with his knowledge of future, Niall was more than aware of how audio streaming platforms would completely change the market for aspiring and indie musicians.

Even now, their metrics were undergoing a rapid growth.

It was only natural that he was certain that it would be a more worthwhile investment over time as opposed to signing up with a record label and losing the rights to his own music.

Besides, there was no way in hell he was going to offer the very first song he’d ever made for his parents to a soulless corporation.

Which was why,

"Nah," he then replied, earning an arched brow from his parents, Clark especially.

"I think I’ll go down the independent route for this one."

To that, his parents simply nodded.

In fact, they seemed notably glad to hear it.

It was already one thing that their son had a signed contract with a publications company and had submitted his application to a new agency a couple days ago.

It was another if he ended up signing to a record label that would end up demanding too much of him.

Forget being swamped, he wouldn’t even have any time for himself, much less them.

This hybrid build of sorts however, would at least allow him to allocate his time favorably.

Just as they were taking another sip of their tea though, Niall’s phone buzzed, signifying an e-mail notification.

Knowing fully well that internet reception at home wasn’t particularly the best, he’d done the smart thing and purchased a router and a wi-fi extender, one he’d set up in the living room yesterday.

Setting his mug aside, he then retrieved the device and opened the message.

Then, after reading the contents, his parents watched as his face brightened ecstatically, a light grin surfacing on his features.

*

Hellion Talent Agency.

That name hadn’t been given lightly to the private company.

Formed by a group of failed actors turned business moguls whom had loathed how terribly they had been treated by their agents and agencies, HTA was built as a big, fat, middle-finger to every single predatory agency in Hollywood.

To say the agency was troublesome to the industry, was putting it lightly.

They were aggressive, demanding, and highly persistent in their negotiations, often refusing to take ’no’ for an answer on behalf of their clients.

’Client-centric’ couldn’t even do justice to what they stood for.

Afterall, it was a rarity to have an agency that focused heavily on consistently creating opportunities for their talents, attaching them to projects, and sourcing for top-tier contracts on their behalf.

And though they never quite reached the heights of the bigger, more renowned talent agencies as at the time Niall had regressed, they had at least maintained a steady output of making unknown faces into competent artists.

Simply put, HTA was the good kind of troublesome. The kind Hollywood hated but couldn’t quite rid themselves of due to their obscenely wealthy backers.

At the moment though, they were just starting up.

But even then, their aggressive filtering remained on point.

Afterall, if they were going to be fighting tooth and nail for a talent or a client of theirs, they had to be certain that said person was worth the hassle.

And for Niall whom had submitted his application a week ago, things were no different.

Dressed neatly in a sleek, black suit, he was currently seated before three of the agency’s top agents and ready to be interviewed.

Advance Chapters are available on Patreon!

/Caer07