The Contract

I had tried everything to get my music career off of the ground. I filmed every part of the process. The songwriting, the busking, and I even faked tears on camera to try and garner an emotional response from my audience. That is something that I am not proud of, especially as it did not work. I even used my precious funds to boost my videos on various platforms with disappointing results. I’d love to be a faceless creator who could put out music without putting themselves all over the internet. I could hide in a helmet like Daft Punk or behind animation like Gorillaz, but the days of just putting out your music are over. You are now the songwriter, the studio engineer, the promoter, the marketer. I am the do-it-all woman and I am do-it-all-done-in.

I know that an hour away my mother kneels at her bedside and prays for the good health of all her children. She lights a candle and bows her head like she has done since she was small, the room glowing and cosy enough to invite anyone in but most of all, God. I think about this whilst I slouch on my couch in the dark, gobbling down crisps and watching nonsense on YouTube. I thought my days of church and silent prayer were over, but feeling a little sentimental I decided to delve back into old habits. I brushed the crumbs off of my t-shirt and switched the TV off. I walked into my room and I thought about what I was going to say. How should I ask for it? I felt sure nobody was listening to me now, certainly not as such an inactive member of the church. But I’d tried everything else. Shuffling around in my slippers, I set everything up. I neatly made my bed and then looked for a candle to light. All I could find was the pine scented one I’d put away after Christmas - that’d have to do it. The smell was overwhelming once lit, but it did the trick. I slipped a pillow out from underneath the duvet and kneeled on it. I was already feeling foolish as I inhaled the pine scent and thought about how to start.

I whispered to the higher power, “Almighty father-”. Before I could even get my request out, the candle was blown out forcefully.

“That’s not going to work. Not in your case” said a voice from behind me.

I turned to see a tall figure. I screamed in terror and it sped towards me, clamping its hand over my mouth and gripping my arm.

“Now now babe, we don’t need to alert the whole building to my presence”, she said. I looked down at her hand across my mouth. She had long spindly fingers adorned with pink sparkly acrylic nails. She removed her hand from my mouth and pushed me into a sitting position onto my bed and stepped back, looking me up and down.

“Who are you?” I whispered.

“Much better with the volume levels”, she flicked on the light, revealing herself, “I’m what you were praying for, obviously”

She looked human, but too tall, her head almost touching the top of the doorframe. She was dressed all in grey, but it was a weirdly modern cut of dress. Body hugging with cutouts and high heels, which she didn’t need for the height at least.

I blinked, adjusting to the light. “You’re going to help me have a successful music career?”

She flipped her straight blonde hair over her shoulder and smiled widely. “I’m going to do everything in my power.”

We talked until dawn, making plans outlining exactly what I needed from my music career. She whipped out a clipboard and began to read from her list.

“Ok so, this is the latest checklist I have for you. An ever increasing fan base both online and off - with no trolls, nasty commenters, etc.”

She looked up at me to confirm. I nodded in agreement.

“Continuing support from brands for sponsorships, gifts and PR packages. Endless opportunities for gigs, undying support from the fans, money always rolling in.”

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. This strange, bubbly fairy godmother (godsister? She wasn’t old enough to hold the title of godmother) had appeared to make me famous and all I had to do was ask. If I had known that I would’ve asked ages ago!

“So what’s in this for you?” I asked, leaning forward.

She threw the clipboard behind her and it vanished into thin air. “That’s the fun part, I get to decide what I get out of this.”

“When?”

“Whenever I like.” She beamed that big grin again.

“Doesn’t that make this deal a little dangerous?” I asked.

“It’s a deal for fame with a supernatural entity. When did you ever hear of that being safe?” She brought the clipboard back into view, this time with a contract on it and handed it to me.

“You’re right,” I said, taking it from her, signing it without even reading the words.

I don’t remember how it happened but at some point I had fallen asleep on top of the bedspread and so had she. I removed her arm from my waist and turned to look at my phone. The time said 2:19pm. I’d managed to get a decent amount of sleep at least. I almost put my phone down when I realised something. I had an insane amount of notifications, with more coming through every few seconds. I shook her awake and she groaned.

“Whaaat!”

“Avalon look at my notifications! I’m getting follows, likes and comments from every platform!” I scrolled on my phone excitedly for her to see.

“Wow it’s working already!” She sat up and pulled my arm closer so she could see. Her hand lingered on my arm, and I thought I felt her stroke my skin. But I must’ve been mistaken.

I laughed nervously, “Did you think it might not work?”

“Of course not! But it’s quick - that’s a quick turnaround for me!” She pulled me so I was laying next to her again. “So what are you going to do now with your newfound fame?”

“I’m going to get myself a gig”

“Are you sure you don’t want it to be a secret gig?” my local pub landlord asked nervously, “It’s just that you’ve blown up so much over night, you should surely be planning stadium gigs not playing at The Ship Inn.”

He was right. Avalon had made me wear my nicest clothes to come out here and I was secretly grateful because as soon as we stepped out of the door we were swarmed by journalists and fans taking pictures of my every move. The landlord had ushered me into the pub via the backdoor by the bins but I could hear them all gathered outside waiting.

“Of course I’m sure. It’s my first proper gig.”

And so that night I stood in front of an uncontrollable crowd of fans, playing my guitar in my local pub. It was loud, hot and uncomfortable. When my set was done, they cheered for more despite the fact I had exhausted my tiny discography twice. I walked outside, feeling dizzy from the masses of people gathered to get a glimpse of me. I staggered which made the fans yell with excitement and concern. My ears were ringing, but Avalon steadied me with her hand on my shoulder and steered me through the crowds to my flat. I unlocked the door, pushing it through the piles of letters and PR boxes that had made it to me through the day.

“This is exhausting” I said, flopping onto my bed. “You have to make some adjustments for me!”

Avalon shut the curtains to block out the fans spying through the window.

“I don’t normally make adjustments once the contract is signed, but just for you I’ll scale it back a bit.”

“Just for me? Why?”

Avalon turned away from the window. “Because you’re special” she winked, opening the curtain again to reveal that many of the fans had walked away, leaving only a couple to take pictures.

“Come on” she said, walking over to the bed and getting into it, “let’s get some sleep, we’ll have another big day tomorrow.”

I hadn’t realised that this contract came with a roommate too.

I woke up and saw that Avalon was no longer in my bed. Maybe she was finally leaving me alone to sort this stuff out on my own until she figured out what she wanted from me. I got up and went for a shower, careful to make sure there weren’t any gaps in the curtains where peeping eyes could see. I emerged into the kitchen to find Avalon waiting for me. One of the PR boxes had been opened on the kitchen table and she was holding a mirror up whilst applying a face mask. In front of her were two full English breakfasts, both untouched.

“It’s a lovely face mask,” she said. “I should have waited till after breakfast to apply it though.”

“What’s all this?” I asked, gazing over the food. I was ravenous.

“We have to keep our strength up with all this newly created fame,” she said as she pushed a plate over to me.

“What do you mean we?” I asked.

“I’m not going back from where I came from until I realise what I want and get it from you.” She patted her face with one finger. “Still too tacky.”

“Where do you come from?” I asked, sitting down at the table and pulling one of the breakfasts towards me.

“Well I’m not an angel or a demon. I’m a bit of a free agent. A bit of a moral greyness existing somewhere between heaven and hell until I’m summoned by someone like you.”

I picked up my knife and fork to begin eating. “So what I prayed for isn’t immoral?”

She tapped her face mask again and decided it was dry enough, allowing her to get started on her breakfast too.

“I think it was decided by the powers above me - somewhere around 1988 - that there are human acts that aren’t really sins but are not really pure acts either. So they send entities like me to help people like you realise their dreams and essentially see where these things go.”

“That sounds too easy” I said with a mouthful of sausage, “don’t these things usually have some risk?”

“You’re right” she looked up at me from her plate of food, “remember I get something out of this too, and it might not be comfortable for you.”

I wasn’t sure if she noticed, but her last sentence made me shiver a little. I had already forgotten what I was dealing with in exchange for my incredible rise to fame. Before I could ask any more questions, the doorbell rang. I was already aware how much my public appearance was being scrutinised, so I stopped at the hall mirror to make sure my hair looked perfect before opening the door. I could hear giggles and whispers which rang warning bells in my mind, but I opened it anyway. I was greeted by a gaggle of my own fans, something I never would have thought possible a couple of days ago. They were huddled together with their phones out, all simultaneously videoing me. Before I could react to how incredibly unnerving it was to be filmed at my own house by fans of my music, the groupies screamed loudly with excitement. One of them put their phone in their pocket and jumped at me, knocking me onto the floor. I screamed and she screamed “I LOVE YOU” right in my face. My blood rushed through my ears drowning out the screams of the fans in my porch. I struggled to get up, feeling weakened and in pain from the fall. It was only a couple of seconds when-

“SHE’S MINE!” I heard someone roar from behind me. Had another fan broken into my house? This was getting out of control. But it wasn’t another fan. The devotees screamed again, this time a scream of terror as they saw Avalon appear from the kitchen, storming through the hallway. She looked terrifying; eyes dark; forehead veins popping; fists balled. Everyone who was gathered in my doorway scattered but before the fan on top of me could escape, Avalon picked her up effortlessly and threw her out of my door. I heard a scream and a thud, but before I could react I felt myself being picked up and slung over Avalon’s shoulder. I was all of a sudden very drowsy.

I woke up to the feeling of Avalon stroking my hair. I hadn’t felt that feeling for a long time, but it had to end. Avalon sat up.

“You’re awake!”

I sat up to look at her, my memories flooding back. “What happened to that girl?”

She furrowed her brow. “Don’t worry about her.”

I couldn’t let it go. “What happened to her?”

Avalon twirled her hair like a delinquent teenager. “She’s fineeee. Nobody is going to remember what happened…but she didn’t need much extra help.” She smirked. This was no big deal to her and I knew I wasn’t going to get much more information. I fiddled with my hands, knowing what I had to ask next. My voice was quiet and quivering.

“What did you mean by ‘she’s mine’ earlier?”

Avalon cocked her head and then smiled, putting her hands on mine.

“I think I know what I want now.”

My heart raced but I tried to keep a straight face. With the same quiet voice I asked “You know what you want?”

“I want you.”

My racing heart suddenly skipped a beat. I tried to hold back my panicked breaths.

“What do you mean?” I asked weakly.

Her grip tightened on my arm, hurting me. There was a desperation in her eyes as she spoke.

“I want to have you in my arms for eternity. I can promise you eternal life, walking alongside me for a thousand years. You could have a life no one else could have and I want you to have it with me.”

I couldn’t hold back my panicky breathing anymore.

“No!” I yelled. I watched the anger from earlier return in her face. I softened my voice, looking her right in the eye.

“No. Please. I can’t be with you. Surely there is something else you want?”

She looked hurt for a split second and then her expression turned furious.

I was pleading with her, knowing how unconvincing I was sounding. But I had to try. Her voice lowered, becoming almost inaudible.

“No. There is no bargaining. I’ll take you whether you want me to or not.”

I was shaking now. Next to me was my phone, pinging away with notifications of my new fans, reminding me of the grave mistake I’d made. Avalon saw me noticing.

“Look at the success I’ve given you. Look around at the online success, the PR packages, the crowds you never had before we met”

Her hand had loosened on my wrist, leaving a red mark. I jumped off of the bed to try and get away from her.

“But it’s gotten wildly out of hand!” I protested.

She stood up and blocked the doorway, looking taller and more powerful than before.

“I watched you ‘read’ that contract” she said making air quotations on the word read. “I guess you didn’t see the part that read ‘results may vary’.”

I edged towards the door, continuing to beg my case but she got in my way even more, towering over me.

“I’m afraid it’s too late.”

Some fans swore up and down to investigators that they saw Aimee get dragged out of her bedroom by an unnaturally tall woman. They said her screaming was so loud, her neighbours and passersby could hear it. Other fans claimed to see flames and smoke, and as the years went on the story was reported by news outlets and crime podcasters with increasingly dramatic details. Slowly her music along with her story disappeared from the internet. Occasionally it pops up, her songs re-uploaded by fans who were there. Fewer people remember now, claiming the whole thing to be one of those ancient internet legends made up of half-truths and misremembered stories.