My Rockstar's Secret Baby

“I’d like to get right down to business, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.”

“I’m not usually this blunt, but your designs fit our brand perfectly. Ancient and primal, while also being modern and accessible.”

“Thanks, they’re a reflection of my soul.”

I didn’t laugh. Not only would have it been rude, but I also didn’t see anything particularly funny in her statement. Generally, I found the idea of souls silly at best, but there was something that happened when I saw Ragnar in the bandstand.

Something was touched, something primal, that felt ancient but also a part of me.

‘Soul’ was as good a word as any.

“I want to use your work for our new seasonal line. I need six new designs, with six examples of each design in two months. Can you do that?”

“Sure! I mean, yes, ma’am, I’ll get right on it.”

“Are you doing it yourself or do you have help?”

“I have help, I can get more if needed.”

“Marvelous, that’s what I like to hear.”

Part of the prep was drawing up the contract and running it by legal just to be double sure. I was fairly certain she would want to sign with the company, but it was always best not to assume.

Assumptions were the mothers of all failures. At least in my experience.

The ink on the contract was barely dry when Fawn said she had to go, leaving at the same speed with which she had arrived.

My two main jobs done for the day, I decided to enjoy the lunch I’d ordered. Especially since I was charging it to the company anyway, so there was no skin off my nose.

While I waited for my soup to cool, I decided to look up Ragnar’s band online. This intention was complicated by the fact I couldn’t quite remember what it was called, though.

I’d only heard it the day before, but a lot had happened since then. According to what I could recall after thinking really hard, it had been called Loki’s Laugh. A name that brought a smile to my lips.

I’d barely put in ‘Loki’s’ into Google before predictive text took care of the rest. I had the search engine set to ‘all,’ and was hit with a bevy of videos and photo links to various music streaming sites.

Ragnar sure looked different. Most people had dressed up for the wedding, even me, but the distance between how I’d seen him, even earlier that day, and the version in the promo photos was big.

By far the most toned down of the three bandmates, Ragnar was still unmistakably a metal head, in his Chuck Taylors, black jeans and sleeveless shirt.

Interestingly enough, though, not everything was positive. There were several news articles calling the group a menace, and I dove deeper.

It had something to do with a church burning down. I vaguely remembered hearing something about it, with Jonna getting into a shouting match with my dad about how it was all media bullshit, and it was just music.

Actually, after hearing some of the apparently “accursed” tunes, I had to side with my baby sister. It certainly didn’t sound evil.

Yes, it was very gloomy and extremely intense, but hardly music to summon the devil by. Something our parents were positively certain most metal heads were doing in their free time. Apparently, they’d long forgotten what the adults of their day had to say about their own music choices.

Going back to the original search, I chose a video at random to try and see what Loki’s Laugh was really all about. I’d heard them at the wedding but, going by the wardrobe change, had the sneaking suspicion that it might have been a defanged version of their normal stuff that I was hearing.

I wanted the real deal.

Pressing the play icon, I closed my eyes, and awaited enlightenment. It was quick in coming, the sound that filled my earbuds unlike anything I’d ever heard.

It wasn’t the deep, heavy black metal I was expecting, at least based on my limited experience, and it also bore a slight resemblance to the stripped-down version in the bandstand. Louder for sure, there was also an increased energy and spirit.

And Ragnar sounded even better with a full kit. The guitar soared with surprising melody over the rock-solid foundation laid down by the bass. Everything that Jonna had ever told me about music came flooding back, and I found myself understanding more than I ever thought I would.

I didn’t listen to music much. I liked it as much as the next girl, but mostly in the background while driving, or while trying to go to sleep. For Jonna it was a major part of her existence, like she would cry for days if ever deprived of the thing she loved most.

I honestly envied her, as I’d never had anything that I was so passionate about, most things feeling like they were happening to me and I was along for the ride. There were plenty of things I liked, and was even good at, but I wouldn’t call any of them a ‘passion.’