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He was half-way out when a sharp sound of a fire alarm cut through the building. Behind him, a sprinkler began pouring water from the basement\'s ceiling.

\'Shit.\'

Water was only going to destroy the evidence even more, but the fire alarm alerted everyone in the store!

"What\'s going on?!"

"I smell smoke coming from the inside. Call the fire department!"

"There\'s someone inside. Was he there all that time? Check the back exit!"

Tristan ran out of the basement, not bothering to cover the entrance again, and rushed for the back exit.

His hopes to get there before police officers block his way were cut short by a sight of a policeman stepping out of the main store hall with a gun in his hands.

"Stop right there! Hands up!"

Tristan evaluated the situation in an instant.

The officer wasn\'t blocking his way, but to get to the exit Tristan will have to run through the man\'s line of sight for a second or two. This was enough time to catch a lethal dose of bullets in his back.

Through the blaring of the fire alarm, it was impossible to hear the movements of other policemen, but Tristan knew they were approaching too. He didn\'t have the time.

\'And I liked that knife,\' Tristan thought, pulling the knife out of his pocket.

It belonged to Evelyn at some point. Besides just being a good knife, it had some sentimental value.

But to save his skin, Tristan peeked out of the corner and threw it at the officer without hesitation.

His aim was terrible, but the distance was only a few meters.

The knife spun in the air, and the police officer gasped, reflexively raising his hands to cover his face and chest.

Using this distraction, Tristan dashed down the hallway.

The knife hit the officer\'s elbow handle-first. A moment later, the man raised his gun again, now determined to shoot.

When the policeman\'s eyes zeroed on Tristan\'s back, he was already disappearing behind the corner.

With the powerful muscles of Tristan\'s body and the athletic skill that allowed him to move gracefully and efficiently, the policeman had no chance to catch up!

All he could do was gape in shock at Tristan\'s speed.

Tristan ran so swiftly he was barely more than a blur. In no time at all, he ran out of the hardware store and disappeared into the streets.

When the police finally gathered near the store\'s back entrance, Tristan was long gone. Even the policeman who tried to shoot at him didn\'t see more than a brief hint of his face and figure.

It was clear that they wouldn\'t find much about Tristan with just that. There were plenty of black-haired young men of average height and build around the city.

***

Several hours later.

It was late at night.

Normally, Tristan would be back home now, scrolling the Web, thinking up new song lyrics, or doing chores. Maybe even dozing off—even though he didn\'t need sleep, it was still very relaxing and refreshing.

Instead, Tristan was entering the Good Lion Bar, called in by Pierce after a day of running errands related to the latest attack.

The hardware store owner, of course, was distressed and angry after hearing that his store had partially burned thanks to the fire in the basement. And Tristan couldn\'t just intimidate him, since the man\'s store was a front. He had to walk a narrow line of keeping the man in line, but content.

That exercise alone gave Tristan points in charisma, fearsomeness, and acting.

Pierce was even less happy that the printing manufacture had to be destroyed, and that police were aware of gang activity in the area. This meant they were going to dig deeper into King Lion Gang\'s business.

Inside of Pierce\'s office, Tristan told him all he gathered from the various informants he was sent to contact.

"All things point that this was a deliberate provocation, Mr. Pierce," Tristan concluded, summarizing everything.

Pierce glared at him over his glasses.

"I didn\'t ask your opinion, Hayes. You are far from the level of trust and respect at which your opinion matters at all."

Tristan narrowed his eyes and folded his arms over his chest, not happy with such words at all.

This wasn\'t the first time Pierce took out his anger at Tristan, but it was the first time it was so blatant.

\'Asshole. He only pretends to be a painfully average person, but everybody who ever asked knows what kind of freak Andrew Pierce is.\'

"Enough for today. Go home, Hayes, rest, and be ready for an urgent call at any time from now on. If there will be another call, you will need to respond much more quickly. Take your phone in the shower if you need to."

Tristan nodded, cringing inwardly, and stood up to leave.

This was going to work badly with his day job… With his other identity in general.

On his way out, Tristan caught Pierce\'s mutter behind his back.

"If worse comes to worst, we will need to relocate the fighting forces to temporary apartments… This will interfere with the business Mr. Clavon likes so much…"

***

Next day.

Thankfully, no new orders came from Pierce during the night.

Although Tristan had the entire gang business to think about, he couldn\'t put off the Californian Young Star contest.

Yesterday, he got an email with information about the next round—the final round!—of the competition.

It was going to happen in three months\' time, in Los Angeles. The travel and stay were paid by the contest organizers.

Three months seemed like a long time, but was also almost no time at all.

Because for that round, Tristan will have to come up with an entirely new performance.

Although there were already plenty of people eager to help him, if indirectly.

He smirked, looking at the stack of business cards from talent agents.

When Tristan talked with them, all of them expressed their desire to provide tools, room and even songwriters for his next round in the contest.

\'It\'s time to sign a contract with one of these sharks. But which one should I choose?\'