Allen woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing incessantly. Half-asleep, he fumbled around on his nightstand, knocking over an empty water bottle before finally grabbing his phone. The screen was blinding, and he squinted, trying to make out the dozens of notifications flooding in.
"Congrats, dude, you're blowing up!" one text from Benji read.
"Just heard 'Fading Lights' on my recommended. You're killing it!" another message from a high school acquaintance popped up.
As he groggily scrolled through the notifications, a small grin tugged at his lips. His song was gaining traction. More than he had ever imagined. He rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed, his hair sticking out in every direction, giving him a just-rolled-out-of-a-tornado look. Glancing at the clock, he realized it was nearly noon. He'd been up until 3 AM obsessively watching his Botify streams, and now it seemed like the world was ready to talk to him.
With a yawn, Allen opened the Botify app. His heart raced a little as he stared at the stream count: 30,000. Overnight, his song had taken off. He could hardly believe it. He refreshed the page just to make sure it wasn't some kind of glitch. But no, it was real.
"30,000 streams," he mumbled to himself, his grin widening. "Holy crap."
The familiar ping of the system sounded in his head, snapping him back to reality.
Current stream count: 30,000. Showbiz Points earned: +1,000. Total Showbiz Points: 3,300.
Allen nearly jumped out of bed. He had finally hit enough points to upgrade one of his core skills. Without hesitation, he opened up the system's interface, glancing at his stats:
Vocal Talent: 4/10 Guitar: 3/10 Songwriting: 3/10 Charisma: 4/10 Appearance: 4/10 Intelligence: 5/10
"Alright, let's do this," Allen muttered, feeling like he was about to pull off some kind of heist in a movie. He zeroed in on his Vocal Talent and pressed the upgrade button. The familiar hum of the system echoed in his mind.
Upgrade Vocal Talent from 4/10 to 5/10. Cost: 2,500 Showbiz Points.
Showbiz Points Remaining: 800.
Allen felt a strange warmth spread through his throat, as if his vocal cords were being bathed in liquid gold. It wasn't uncomfortable, just... different. Like the system was tweaking his voice at a molecular level. He cleared his throat experimentally, half expecting to sound like a Broadway tenor or something. But, to his mild disappointment, he still sounded like himself.
"Maybe the magic's in the singing," he mused. "Well, at least I didn't accidentally upgrade myself to sound like a chipmunk."
He swung his legs off the bed, stretching his arms overhead. His stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since the night before.
Before he could head to the kitchen, his phone rang. It was Benji.
"Dude! Have you seen the numbers? You're a legend!" Benji's voice came through the speaker, excitement buzzing on the other end.
Allen smiled. "Yeah, I saw. It's nuts, right?"
"Bro, we need to celebrate. I'm talking full-on 'we're famous' level of celebration. You free tonight?"
Allen chuckled. "I guess I could be. What did you have in mind?"
"Food. Drinks. Maybe some karaoke. You know, so you can flex those new golden pipes of yours."
"Karaoke?" Allen's eyes narrowed, though a smirk played on his lips. "Are you setting me up for a public embarrassment? Because I feel like that's what this is."
Benji laughed. "No promises. But hey, with those streams, you're basically a pop star now. Isn't public embarrassment part of the deal?"
Allen rolled his eyes, but he was too happy to care. "Alright, fine. Let's do it. But no karaoke. I'm not ready to perform in front of a bunch of drunk strangers."
"Deal. I'll pick you up at 7. Wear something cool. You're famous now, remember?"
"Right, cool. Got it," Allen said before hanging up.
He tossed his phone onto the bed and stared at his closet. Cool? He wasn't exactly sure what that meant. His wardrobe consisted of a rotation of worn-out band t-shirts, jeans, and one decent jacket. Maybe that jacket would do. With a shrug, he grabbed it and tossed it onto the bed before heading to the kitchen.
As he poured himself some cereal, his phone buzzed again. This time, it was from Sarah.
"Congrats on the 30k! You're killing it. :)"
Allen's stomach did a weird flip. He wasn't sure when it had started happening, but lately, every time Sarah texted him, he got this weird mix of excitement and nerves. He chalked it up to the stress of his music career, but deep down, he knew it was more than that.
"Thanks! You've been a big help through all of this," he replied quickly, then hesitated. Should he say something more? Something flirty?
He decided against it. Best to keep it cool. No need to rush things. After all, they were just friends, right?
His phone buzzed again almost immediately.
"Anytime! Maybe we can hang out and celebrate soon?"
Allen's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't sure why, but the idea of celebrating with Sarah sounded way more appealing than whatever Benji had planned. Still, he couldn't ditch his best friend, especially after agreeing to go out.
"Yeah, definitely! Let me know when you're free," he typed back, grinning like an idiot.
Sarah responded with a thumbs-up emoji, and Allen couldn't help but feel a little giddy. It wasn't a full-on date, but it was something.
After finishing his breakfast, Allen sat back down at his desk and opened up Botify again. His stream count had already jumped to 35,000. At this rate, he might hit 50,000 by the end of the day. He leaned back in his chair, feeling a rare sense of contentment wash over him.
For the first time in a long time, it felt like things were actually going his way.
Later that night, Benji arrived at Allen's apartment, practically vibrating with energy.
"Let's go, rockstar!" he shouted, barging in without waiting for an invite.
Allen shook his head, laughing. "You act like I've already made it or something."
"Bro, 30,000 streams is making it. You're on your way," Benji said, slapping Allen on the back. "Now let's get some food in you before you turn into a starving artist cliché."
The two of them headed out to a small burger joint not far from Allen's place. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was their spot, a place they'd been going to since high school. As they sat in their usual booth, Allen noticed a couple of girls at a nearby table glancing over at them, whispering to each other.
Benji noticed too. "See? People are already recognizing you," he said with a smirk.
Allen rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because I'm such a big deal now."
"Give it time. By next week, you'll need bodyguards."
They ordered their food, and as they waited, Benji leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "So... how are things going with Sarah?"
Allen nearly choked on his soda. "What? Things are fine. Why?"
"Come on, man. I see the way you talk about her. Something's going on there."
Allen shifted uncomfortably. "We're just friends, dude. That's it."
Benji raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Sure. And I'm just a casual observer who doesn't think you should ask her out."
"Ask her out?" Allen's voice cracked slightly. "Dude, I can barely keep my head straight with all this music stuff. I'm not trying to throw romance into the mix right now."
Benji snorted. "Right. Because you're just swimming in free time. Look, man, I'm not saying you need to propose to her or anything. But if you like her, what's the harm in seeing where it goes?"
Allen opened his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything, their food arrived. He wasn't sure why the idea of asking Sarah out felt so... intimidating. He could perform in front of strangers, negotiate with producers, and handle the pressure of an emerging music career, but the thought of putting himself out there romantically? That was a whole different level of stress.
"Just think about it," Benji said, taking a huge bite of his burger. "Life's too short to sit on the sidelines, man."
Allen stared at his own burger, deep in thought. Benji wasn't wrong. But still, there was something about Sarah that made him nervous in a way he wasn't used to. Maybe it was because she saw him differently than anyone else. Or maybe it was because he was terrified of screwing it up.
But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside. Tonight was about celebrating, and tomorrow, well, tomorrow he could figure out the rest.