The Future of Sulani | 13

The next morning, it takes all the strength of Sulani's ancient gods to rouse Noelani from bed. When they finally manage to stumble out to the kitchen, Nani is already showered, dressed, and halfway through breakfast. Noelani can't even stand the sight of her bowl of cereal. They make a beeline for the coffee pot instead. "Let's promise never to drink an entire bottle of wine in two hours again," they mutter hoarsely.

Blessedly, the coffee is strong and still piping hot. Noelani guzzles it in minutes, too desperate for relief to care that it's scalding the back of their throat. "How are you even functioning right now?" they ask Nani.

"By necessity," Nani replies with forced gusto. "It would hardly look good for me to call in 'sick' on my second day of work. I've already gotten half a dozen emails from the campaign office reminding me of the million and a half things I need to do today."

"Crap," Noelani says, suddenly reminded of their own professional obligations. "I'm supposed to be having lunch with Theo and some big-shot exec from Dinky Beats in a few hours. I think I'd rather die."

"Drink your coffee. Go for a jog. Take a cold shower. You'll be perky in no time!"

Noelani shudders at the thought of shifting even a single inch. Their body feels as immovable as lead.

But, of course, Nani is right, as usually turns out to be the case. As soon as Noelani shoves in their earbuds, throws on a high-energy playlist, and sucks in a lungful of fresh, cool air, they feel instantly rejuvenated. They're lucky to still be young enough to bounce back quickly - for now, anyway.

Meanwhile, Nani completes her own morning ritual by practicing her talking points in the bedroom mirror. Since her role puts her in direct contact with the city's residents, she has to strike the perfect balance between sounding perfectly rehearsed and sounding not at all rehearsed. They'll see through her right away if she's faking it, but they also won't trust her if they think she doesn't know her stuff.

Today, she's been asked to put in an appearance at the Casbah Gallery to reinforce her candidate's commitment to both the enrichment of the younger generations and the vitality of the arts more generally. When she accepted this position, artistic ability wasn't exactly listed as a requirement for the job. Still, she channels her inner Malia and powers through, hoping that her perseverance will show the children that you don't have to be perfect to find fulfillment in creativity.

"It's so good of you to stop by and show your support for the gallery," one of the artists in residence tells her. "I have to say, it would be nice to feel appreciated by the people who run this city for a change. Lately, it's begun to feel like we have to get down on our knees and beg for additional funding, and even then we're lucky to get a few pennies!"

Nani even succeeds in inspiring several others to join in on the mural-painting with her. Once the murals are finished, they will be a vibrant addition to the gallery's collection, showcasing the collective efforts of countless visitors. The fact that her boss will also be credited as the great mind behind their implementation should also serve as a nice boost to the campaign.

Noelani breezes into The Old Salt House, the morning's slow start already a distant memory, where Theo is deep in conversation with another man, who can only be the esteemed Dinky Beats executive he told Noelani about, though he looks more like a frat guy, far younger than Noelani imagined, with shaggy red hair in need of a cut and sporting a slightly wrinkled sweater.

Still, Noelani does their best to maintain a polite and respectful demeanor. "It's wonderful to finally meet you, Mr. Srivastava. I'm beyond grateful to your label for the support you've shown me so far."

"Please, call me Brad," he says casually, doodling on a napkin like a little kid. "Everyone at Dinky Beats is a massive fan of your stuff! And with Theo here behind you, the sky is truly the limit, my friend. You've got an exciting journey ahead of you, and we'd be honored to be a part of that journey."

"Great!" Noelani exclaims, unable to contain their excitement and eager to start discussing specifics. "I've been working on some really exciting new demos lately. I think a couple of them are almost done, actually. I've been experimenting with some new sounds, so it's all very eclectic and diverse, but, don't worry, it still sounds like me! At least, I hope it does. I really think this is some of my strongest work yet."

Brad chuckles politely. "I'm glad you take the craft so seriously, Noelani. I doubt there's much to worry about there. But, you see, if you really want to make an impact, there's more to it than the music alone. We've got to start thinking about how we're going to market you!"

"What do you mean?" Noelani asks, feeling suddenly uneasy.

"Well, this whole edgy androgynous look you've got going worked when you were just a DJ, but if you want to be a real star, you're going to have to start considering the masses. You have to make everyone fall in love with you, not just the punks and the hipsters and the outcasts. Hell, my mom should be able to see a picture of you in a magazine and think, 'I like that girl! I want to know more about her!'"

All throughout Brad's speech, Noelani can feel their insides slowly boiling. He wants them to be prettier, softer, safer. He wants them to be more of a woman, whatever the hell that means. They look to Theo for back-up, but he's suddenly entirely consumed by the food that Noelani barely noticed arrive at their table.

"Well, Mr. Srivastava," Noelani replies, emphasizing each syllable. "My identity isn't just a look, and I'm certainly not a girl. I'm not sure what Mr. Bloom has been telling you," they raise an eyebrow at Theo, who looks sheepish and ashamed, "but I'm not willing to compromise on who I am, even if it means losing a few soccer moms and suburban dads along the way. My music speaks for itself. Those who are meant to find it and enjoy it will. It's as simple as that."

Noelani barely registers Brad's fumbling, half-hearted apology or Theo's unsuccessful attempts to recover the conversation. They leave the restaurant with a bad taste in their mouth. Who does some unkempt guy in a rumpled sweater who's barely older than them think he is to ask them to change everything about themself? What if this all turns out to be a huge mistake?

On her way home from work, Nani stops to admire one of the street murals she cleaned up yesterday, which is still thankfully graffiti-free. A teenage girl (with questionable fashion taste, Nani thinks, but, hey, she isn't exactly hip to the latest trends) is there taking it all in, too. "It must be so cool to make something like this," she marvels.

"We're painting another one tomorrow in the Fashion District," Nani tells her. "Feel free to stop by and see what we're all about!" She's thrilled to finally be connecting with some of San Myshuno's residents. It just took a little warming up to start bringing them out of their shells.

By the time she gets back to the apartment, she's starving, so she heads straight for the leftover pizza in the fridge. Noelani is jumping up and down in front of the TV, following along with what seems like rather aggressive enthusiasm to some cheesy aerobics routine led by an overly bubbly instructor. "Didn't you get enough of a workout this morning?" Nani asks, after swallowing half a slice of pizza at once.

"Apparently not!" Noelani exclaims, their words punctured by heavy, ragged breaths. "It turns out I've been doing this music thing all wrong. I've been such a fool to waste so much time refining my sound. All I really need to do is put on a blond wig, wear a dress, have a hot bod, and become the sexy/adorable girl next door/Playboy bunny I was always destined to be! Then I'll be golden!"

"I take it that lunch meeting went well then?" Nani replies sarcastically. Noelani rolls their eyes, collapses in a heap on the sofa, and launches into a detailed account of the entire terrible conversation.

"I've already told Theo to uninvite that asshole from my show this weekend," they conclude nearly 20 minutes later. "Fuck him! I don't even care if his stupid record label wants to sign me or not! I'll go it alone if I have to."

Noelani feels even better about standing up for themself when they arrive at the venue a few nights later. The place is packed. They can't even sneak past the dance floor while the opener warms the crowd up without catching the attention of several enthusiastic fans. They give in and take a moment to relish in the spotlight. These are Noelani's people, and they already love Noelani - no strings attached. Why risk messing with that?

The roar of the crowd as Noelani finally steps behind the decks is perhaps the most invigorating sound they've ever heard. Any lingering nerves disappear as they settle confidently in, ready to play the new best set of their life.

As always, Nani is there to serve as dutiful hype person, but the crowd is so hyped already that she doesn't have to do much work to get them moving. She thought she was Noelani's biggest fan, but it's clear there's some competition here tonight threatening to take that title away from her.

At least she's able to hold onto her crown when it comes to having the funkiest dance moves in the room.

The atmosphere is electric. Noelani feels at one with every single person on the dance floor, like they're all tuned into some higher frequency of being, having completely ascended the trappings of the rest of the world that surrounds them. At this moment, no one can tell them they're not a superstar already.

Nani can't help being swept up in the moment, too, as she immediately swoops in at the end of the set to give Noelani a passionate kiss.

"Sorry, babe," Noelani says breathlessly, extricating themself from Nani's embrace. "My eager public awaits."

They turn around to find a familiar face. "Amazing as usual," he gushes. "I brought a few friends with me this time. I'm on a mission to convert the entire city to the Gospel of Noelani!"

Noelani laughs at his overzealous enthusiasm. "I appreciate it. Just try not to turn me into a cult leader, okay? It's only music we're talking about here."

"Only some amazing music," his friend pipes in. "When are you releasing more stuff? I've streamed your song on Simify, like, a million times, and I'm dying for another one. I can't wait for an album!"

Some of the people in the audience even want Noelani's autograph. It's almost as though the universe conspired overnight to prove that they hardly need the Brads of the world to succeed. They're already moving full-speed ahead on their own terms.

The newfound attention is certainly an ego boost, but Noelani knows they can't let it get to their head. It's important that they never forget their roots, no matter how far they've come from those humble beginnings.