Tristan earned $200 on that day, which he spent carefully, and 110 Pop-star Points.
The points he put into piano skill almost immediately.
For $12, he bought a book of note sheets for piano, then spent most of his remaining money to rent a lot of time in a musical room.
Tristan studied the music, so that he could play it from memory later if necessary, and because he was improving every time he played.
Sometimes it was in his head, but he kept receiving system notifications about his skills improving.
Overall, in three days of practice, Tristan's piano skill improved by 11, and his music theory skill improved by 2 thanks to reading about piano music.
He also continued walking to the gym daily.
The last visit to the gym happened on the day of the interview. Tristan was running on the treadmill when—
[Ding!]
[Toughness attribute increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 100!]
Much slower than skills, but Tristan's attributes improved.
And soon after that, when Tristan was lifting dumbbells—
[Ding!]
[Strength attribute increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 100!]
Tristan was smiling to himself when he showered after the gym. Back at home, he opened his status and put these points into skills, too. 100 went into singing skill, and 110 into stage presence. Tristan wasn't sure which skill he will need the most in the future, so he tried to be equal with them.
Now his status looked like that:
[======]
[Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)]
[Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.]
[Rank: Nobody.]
[Pop-star Points: 0]
[Criminal Points: 130]
[===Attributes===]
[Appearance: 33]
[Charisma: 30]
[Fearsomeness: 25]
[Strength: 18]
[Dexterity: 24]
[Toughness: 41]
[===Skills===]
[Singing: 151]
[Dancing: 8]
[Playing guitar: 125]
[Music theory: 21]
[Music production: 8]
[Acting: 20]
[Songwriting: 14]
[Voice control: 34]
[Stage presence: 126]
[Playing piano: 232]
[Sneaking: 20]
[Close-quarters combat: 446]
[Observation: 141]
[Driving: 16]
[Pickpocketing: 28]
[===Talents===]
[Clark Kent Effect]
[======]
Tristan had some Criminal Points to use, but he decided to stash them for now and spend them when he charted his plan for the criminal career.
Having close-quarters combat and observation was enough for now.
Now he had to actually write and print his resume while he still had the time.
Too bad that "Tristan Gemello" was a literal nobody. Although SIS created documents for this identity, they were very bare-bones and average.
Average school marks, no special activities or contest rewards. Of course, no degrees in music.
Tristan will have to just convince Pierce that he knows music well enough.
***
This evening.
The bar's name was "The Good Lion", and the signboard had a lion's silhouette on it. It stood away from the touristy places—in fact, it was close to one of the poor neighborhoods of the city. A strange choice of location.
The atmosphere inside was much less classy than Tristan imagined from a bar that had an actual piano inside. It lacked any taste, like a lucky gold digger who snatched a rich husband and covered herself in jewels from head to toe.
Gaudy art pieces of lions on the walls and wooden panels didn't work. The piano in the corner still felt out of place.
All the patrons present at the time had a subtle air of danger around them. Some, like the bar, tried to appear classy and failed. Tristan, in his unremarkable clothing, attracted a few suspicious glances when he first entered.
Although Tristan's posture didn't show it, he was slightly nervous. It's been a while since he tried to find a job. After running from home, he had to apply to one, eventually. Stealing, of course, wasn't his first choice of profession.
Some people recognized him as "that spoiled rich brat who was punished by life for his misbehavior" while others just recoiled from his scars and said that Tristan will scare both clients and coworkers.
This was going to be Tristan's first job if he passed.
After Tristan explained why he was there, a waiter led him to the back of the bar, toward the offices hiding from the visitors' sight.
He left him in a waiting room, which had more of the gaudy lions and a single leather couch. On the other side was a door with the brass plaque that read, "Andrew Pierce, Chief Manager".
"Please, wait here. Mr. Pierce will call you in," the waiter explained and left.
Tristan nodded and turned to look at the young man, who was already waiting on the couch.
The second candidate whom Pierce mentioned.
He looked like someone fresh out of the music academy, almost of Tristan's age. Perhaps, if Tristan hadn't gotten into a car crash two years ago, he'd also be like this young man.
Except he'd already have better job offers than in some cheap bar.
The young man looked Tristan over, then frowned.
"You are applying for the pianist job, too? You don't look like a piano person."
Tristan raised his eyebrows.
"Really? How can someone look like a piano person or not? It's not written on my T-shirt."
"It's written on your face. And hair. Only guitar guys wear hair like this. It's a total mess."
Tristan actually cut it himself, then let it grow naturally into something more artfully wild than just wildly wild.
He ran a palm through his hair, then struck a pose that fit a stage more than a casual conversation and grinned. His looks were amazing (compared to what they were), and Tristan wasn't going to let some boy who didn't see life to bitch at him.
"Maybe you should've become a hairdresser or a stylist instead of a musician, if you know so much about hair, huh?"
The young man glowered.
"I'm just saying you won't get this job, so you can leave now and don't waste our time."
Tristan already had a couple of snarky retorts ready, but at that moment, the door to Pierce's office opened.
A tall, stick-like middle-aged man in round glasses stepped out. Pierce looked over at both gathered job candidates.
"Good evening. I'm Andrew Pierce, the person most responsible for this establishment. Today, perhaps, I will pick one of you for this vacancy. Now, come into my office. I know nothing about music, so your resumes hopefully will be enough to decide."