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Footsteps clicked down the hall. Jun shot upright, heart hammering. The girl stood in front of him with two small white boxes balanced in her hands.

“Sorry! I saw you were watching this, and I know her very well!” Jun said.

“I can’t speak Mandarin,” she mumbled.

Jun’s cheeks burned as he dropped his head, ashamed that Mandarin flowed out of his lips without thinking. “I’m so sorry,” he stammered in English. “I thought you could because you were watching a Taiwanese video.”

She shook her head as she set the boxes on the table nearest to him. “Nah, I just like her songs.” She tapped the boxes. “Two boxes. Made by him this morning. Have you ever had them fresh?”

Jun took the boxes, lighter than he expected. “No? What do you mean?”

She pointed at the boxes. “You know. Durden? Have you ever had it fresh?”

Jun swallowed, trying not to break into sweat. He’d suspected this since the conversation between Jay and Covey. He’d braced for it. But suspecting and holding the actual product in his hands were two different things. His fingers tightened around the boxes.

This was Durden. This was what they’d been looking for. And Covey had just made him the delivery boy. Jun glanced down the hallway where the Owl was supposedly working, back at the boxes, then at the door where Covey waited in the car.

“No,” he said. He moved for the door, but she blocked him.

“Wanna take a hit real quick? I swear it hits so differently when it’s freshly made. It will make you feel like this is what living is all about!” She giggled as she reached behind the laptop to reveal something that looked like a flat black plastic bar in her hands. “It won’t be as good at the next party. It’ll be stale by then.”

Jun shook his head slowly, trying not to look rude. “It’s alright. I’m good.”

She laughed, her colorful pigtails swaying. “Aw, you’re shy! That’s so cute!” She tilted closer, her cloth cat nose nearly touching the tip of his.

Jun was certain he’d lose a staring contest with those brown eyes—bright as the starry makeup around them.

“Listen, I know what you’re going through. I can see it right here.” She traced the bar lightly under his eyes. “I bet this is from all the nasty thoughts that won’t shut up in your head and keep you from sleeping.”

Jun’s mouth went dry, unsure what to respond to her. In a way, she wasn’t completely wrong, but it was a little weird that was the first impression she got from him. He didn’t realize his eye bags were that prominent.

Her eyes smiled again, the starry sky on her eyelids catching the light. “I’m right, aren’t I? I’ve been there. So I get it.”

She grabbed one of the plastic containers. “But if you ever need an escape, you know where to find me now.” She tucked the container under Jun’s free elbow. “Extra bars, in case you guys run out.”

Not wanting to take any more chances of being stopped by her again, Jun hastily said his goodbyes and hurried back to the car. He set the boxes in the backseat and slid into the driver’s seat. Covey turned to him and asked, “So you got them from him?”

Jun shook his head, trying to remember if he saw an owl in the room. Just a cat. “I don’t think so. A girl gave them to me,” he said nervously, hoping that was the right answer.

As they backed out of the dirt driveway, Covey asked, “Short Asian girl? Cat face mask?”

“Yeah.”

Covey hummed. “That’s Ashley. She didn’t say anything weird, did she?”

Jun glanced back at the house as he pulled the car in reverse. Behind the screen door, Ashley waved goodbye excitedly. “Not really.”

Covey laughed. “She just started.” Covey waved with two fingers at the beaten-up bodyguard who let them back onto the main road.

Covey leaned his elbow on the window, propping his chin on his hand. The house disappeared behind them, and they were back to being surrounded by the mountains again.

“He must be really busy if he didn’t get to see you personally,” Covey muttered.

***

After thirty minutes of silent driving and more Christmas music from 103.5 FM, they arrived in the Valley. Jun came around the back roads and pulled into a gated parking lot. After Covey leaned across the driver’s seat and waved, the guard let them in. They parked in front of the large studio building, right under Covey’s show logo emblazoned across the top-floor window.

Covey pointed to the backseat and nodded, and Jun followed him out of the car with the boxes under his arm. Jun wasn’t sure what he’d expected from a television studio—maybe something closer to the concert venues he’d grown up backstage at. The long white hallway with its dated carpet felt like any other office building.