An Angel Evolved

Angelique heard the crunch of hot sand mingle with the deep base beat of the tune that blasted forth from her phone. The headphone buds she had picked up from the airport back home in America fed the latest track by artist Jay-Z direct to her ears, but still allowed the caw of the gulls above and the crunch of sneaker on sand to filter through. Angelique had the current song on repeat, trying to become intimate with the way the artist had constructed the rhyme and rhythm. She had to know this song by heart as the young girl had been selected personally by the famous rapper to duet on it with him. The deadline for her contribution to ‘Golden Ghetto Gone’ was looming fast. It was only two weeks before she recorded and Angelique still could not understand why she was so far from her comforts of home, running along Bondi Beach in Sydney, Australia.

An hour later the young artist had finished her run and returned to her hotel.

“It must be pushing a hundred degrees out there,” muttered Angelique as she stepped out of the bathroom, her long blonde hair wrapped in a plush, white, Hilton branded towel.

“Well over a hundred, Angel,” answered Bob, Angelique’s manager, throwing her a large bottle of water.

“Whose crazy idea was it then that I flew down here?” Angelique answered back.

“Your Mom,” sighed Bob. “She thought with this Jay-Z thing coming up so early in your career it was a great opportunity to get you some sponsors.”

“That sounds just like Mom,” said Angelique, adding her own sigh and a frown. “The moment I launched as DJ Angel she was all over my branding.”

Bob shrugged his broad shoulders “I guess that happens when Mom has a business degree.”

“Guess so,” agreed the young singer, “Now get out of here while I get dressed!”

“Yes ma’am, Miss DJ Angel,” laughed Bob as the wet towel from Angelique’s hair was launched by the girl aimed at his head.

Bob caught the towel mid-flight and hung it on the back of the hotel room door as he left. Just before the door shut behind him he called back to the out of sight Angelique, “Don’t forget hun, Levi jeans, Oakley sunnies and that Red Bull shirt.”

“I know!” Angelique yelled back as the door clicked shut. “The sponsors are always watching.”

Alone in the room the young girl let the air-conditioning and the chilled water cool her down. It did not surprise Angelique to find the exact outfit listed by Bob laying out for her on the bed. Exhausted from the heat and her run the girl Angel fell back onto the clothes in her wet towel, with her wet hair, from her very soul emanated an audible groan.

“I love you Mom, but why Australia? Why New Year’s Eve? Why not somewhere cooler?”

Just then the phone wedged in a pocket of the blue jeans lit up and began playing a synthesized piece by Mozart. Angelique fished out the phone and checked the screen. It was a text from Bob: HOPE U DRESSED! PHOTOS IN 30 MIN. MEL 2DO HAIR & MAKEUP NOW!

Angelique threw the phone back onto the bed and let the towel drop to the floor. She slipped into her clothes in record time. As she was just finishing buttoning up the fly there came a brief knock at the door.

“Come on in!” called Angelique, knowing that Mel the make-up artist had her own key.

That was the beginning of a hectic afternoon. There was the photo shoot for Rolling Stone magazine, then an article for the Australian and the Sydney Herald, two newspapers that Angelique had never ever heard of. Finally Bob had organized a meet and greet with the guy from Guinness World Records.

“DJ Angel, it is both a pleasure and an honour to be able to attempt this record with such a talented new artist,” gushed Simon Steely, a guy who wore a horrid brown suit and sweated way too much.

‘Just take off the mustard tie and the jacket,’ begged Angelique’s deep green eyes. With her voice though the singer replied, “Don’t thank me Simon until we pull this off!”

“Of course,” laughed Simon, “Your Mom was brave to suggest you play two New Years Eve concerts in one night.”

Angelique nodded but chose not to reply.

“Your Mom has a lot of faith in her daughter,” Simon added.

“I won’t let her down,” vowed Angelique. “Or you!”

“Don’t worry about us,” Simon said with a smile, as he patted Angelique gently on the shoulder. “Just make sure that you don’t let yourself down.”

“I’m just planning to go out there and have some fun,” answered Angelique honestly.

“Come on Angel,” said Bob, ending the interview. “It’s time to go, hun.”

The trip to the wharf was quick. It was coming up to eight that night and everyone was headed to the beach, the opposite way that Bob and Angelique travelled.

“See you soon,” the DJ murmured to the cars as they sped by.

“What hun?” Bob asked.

“I wish Mom could have been here,” said the young girl.

“I know Angel,” Bob said kindly. “I heard from your Mom earlier, she wishes you luck.”

“I know I’ll see her and Anton after I’ve finished playing my set at the beach…” Angel began.

“Don’t forget there will be another rep from Guinness there too… A Daphnie or Darlene,” explained Bob as he switched lanes and entered the car park for the wharf district.

“And another interview I guess?” Angelique sighed as the crate coloured blue and red came into view. Tonight was going to be a big night.

The back doors of the container squealed horridly as Bob and the chopper pilot forced them open. Angelique’s wince was ignored by the two men though.

“Step inside hun,” suggested Bob. “Welcome to your office.”

“We head for the heavens in half an hour,” the pilot said curtly to Bob. In response Angelique’s manager gave a silent nod.

“You heard the man, Angel,” said Bob to the young singer, again waving her into the container.

‘Wow Mom… What have you signed me up for?’ Angel immediately thought as she made her first, hesitant steps towards the metal shell. As she stepped daintily across the threshold illumination suddenly ignited and the space was flooded in pure white light.

The first thing that caught Angel’s eye was the grand chair, an intricately carved ebony throne piled with snow white cushions. There was more to the throne, but Angel was not quite sure able to work it out.

“The sponsors ask that you don’t sit down there until we hit the beach,” murmured Bob. “Spoil the surprise…”

“Where do we sit then?” Angelique demanded to know.

“Hun, I’ll be up in the chopper with Tom,” answered Bob with a shrug.

‘Why was it that all helicopter pilots seemed to be named Tom?’ the girl said to herself, suppressing a giggle.

“Oh and before we shut you up in here you’ll need one last costume change,” Bob laughed.

Angel rolled her eyes.

“I know hun,” smiled Bob with a shake of his head. “I know…”

The final costume was a silver suit, a two piece that was stylish and fashionable. The Red Bull symbol was splashed prominently across the front. A simple pair of silver flats and a baseball cap finished the outfit. As she dressed, Angelique had a moment to examine the complicated light set up strung throughout. There were the usual smoke machines, strobes and a rainbow of reds, blues, greens and more. Angel spied a few pyro-techniques, something she had never experienced on stage.

“Trust Mom,” whispered the singer to herself, over and over repeating her mantra.

Finally Angel let her eyes drift over the deck with its twin turntables and the pile of classic pop records all on fresh, unopened vinyl.

Angel smiled to herself. The sponsors had given her everything she needed to be a kid playing in a candy store.

“Showtime!” she laughed as the chopper whirred to life.

Angel felt rather than heard the crunch of the soft sand as the shipping container touched down and the helicopter disengaged. As Tom and Bob whirred away Angel took in a deep breath. “Take the throne Angel,” the DJ murmured to herself. “You’re queen of the beach tonight…”

Nestling down into the mountain of cushions Angelique felt the shipping container shudder. The walls began slowly falling downwards, first revealing the dazzling summer sky of stars, then the solid mass of people as the Bondi Beach crowd awaited her set to begin. As the first two pristine vinyl records began to spin Angel expertly blended Seven Nation Army by the White Stripes with Madonna’s Holiday. The mood of the expectant crowd was already electric as the first beats began. As the kids of the 80s and the kids of the 90s recognized the tracks the feeling of joyful remembrance washed over Angel. She knew then that this crowd of strangers was already hers. As Holiday ended and a track by Jay-Z with a hefty beat began the throne and the turntable rose up and began to slowly spin. The crowd as a machine, all jumping as one, screaming out the lyrics to the songs they all knew. Then it happened, the fingers pointed, a thousand and one of them simultaneous aimed at her as something was emerging from behind her. Angelique took a quick peek over her shoulder as a red and a green strobe light flashed across her silver suit. To her surprise the chair had unveiled a pair of wings. The rest of the night Angelique spent with a massive grin on her face. Record or no she did not care any more. She had changed from unknown newbie to household name in an instant. Angelique had truly become an angel of song and it was Red Bull who had given her wings…