“Yes, two weeks ago. His stitches on the arm were removed. He goes to James’ studio again and plays the piano. Basically, the rise of the superstar is continuing.”

 

***

One time during lunch I came out of the building to get some fresh air. All of a sudden I saw the pair in front of me: Francis and Michael—together!

They stood next to Michael’s blue Toyota and spoke intensely about something. Then they both got inside the car and—vroom! vroom!—drove away.

 

***

So, here it is.

The punk band was called Crazy Brothers, as Francis wanted.

Percussion and lyrics, Michael Levy; keyboard and vocals, Francis Morales; guitar and vocals, Freya Harrison.

It is a fantastic punk band, with a bright future: concerts, tours, CDs, music videos, and basically the ringing of timpani and fireworks, accompanying the life of stars and pop idols.

I have no idea where they met the guitarist Freya. Francis said that it was in a bar where she was performing her songs to guitar. It may be.

When Jenn and I first discovered the newly-created website of the new punk band and saw the photos of the musicians uploaded there, Jenn got visibly miserable.

“What a fucking nightmare…”

Personally, I didn’t see anything horrible in those photos: two guys in ripped T-shirts and with reddish-green colored hair behind the instruments, and a young woman—also in just a low-cut T-shirt, with tattoos and a guitar—screaming into the microphone. Francis’s keyboard also has a microphone into which he is screaming. The drummer Michael likewise has a microphone in front of his face. Basically, you can only imagine the kind of racket going on in James’ studio, where they practiced.