Page 7 of Black Hollow: Awakening

“No. I mean, yes. I think so. Apparently. I don’t know. I really don’t remember.”

“Are you serious?” Danny asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

“Completely serious. It’s a total blank. As if… as if I passed out or something.”

“Well… I don’t know what happened before, but when I got back from work, you were already in bed.”

“Did I say anything?”

“Yeah. Sort of. I peeked in right when I got back, ‘cause I thought we could watch something. You didn’t answer when I called your name, so I figured you had your headphones on, but it turned out you’d already gone to bed. I thought my shouting would have woken you up anyway, so I asked if you wanted dinner. You mumbled something I couldn’t understand, so I asked if you were okay. You said you had a headache, so I let you be.”

“That I had a headache?”

“Yep.”

Will didn’t remember that either.

“I don’t get any of this,” he whispered, bewildered.

“Maybe you had a really bad migraine?”

“And lost my memory?”

“How should I know? I’m no expert on this stuff.”

Just then, a notification pinged on Dan’s phone. He checked it and then exclaimed, “Oh, dude!”

“What?”

“They finally posted the full interview with Venom!”

Venom was the stage name of Jared Manson, possibly the most incredible artist under the sun. Venom had started out as a celebrity, showing up at various parties where he drew a ton of attention. It was no surprise—he was charming as hell, changed his hairstyle and hair color a few times a month, and his clothes were always very tight and even more vibrant. Usually, people like that attracted as much hate as they did interest, but Will didn’t know anyone who didn’t adore Venom. So it was no wonder that he had already starred in one movie and was now preparing for the official release of his music album. He was genuinely talented.

And Will and Dan had a minor obsession with him.

Danny played the video.

“My guest today is Venom,” said Steve Lucas, the host of New Generation. “Welcome.”

Venom smiled. He was wearing mid-calf, purple high-heeled boots, tight leopard-print pants, and a pink T-shirt with his own stage name on it. His hair was bright yellow, streaked with a few red highlights, and tied up in a high ponytail. He looked amazing, though Will would never dare to wear an outfit even half as bold.

“We’ll start with the question fans are asking most often… When can we expect your first album?”

“Oh, later this year,” Venom assured him. “Don’t forget to buy it, my darlings,” he added, winking at the camera.

Will felt a sudden spike of pain. He hissed, clutching his head.

“What’s wrong?” Danny asked.

“Nothing,” Will mumbled as the feeling fortunately passed. It was weird. Like an electric shock, but… in his brain.

“Told you it was a migraine,” Dan said sympathetically. “Guess it’s still lingering.”

Will tried to focus on the interview.

“In just two years, you’ve achieved the status of one of the most recognizable personalities in the country. How did you do it?”

“Talent, hard work, and lots and lots of effort. People in my position would thank others with false modesty, but I have no reason to. I created my own image and achieved my own status. It was all me.”