Trafford's Trading Club

You Ye saw Tai Yinzi staring at his surroundings with full concentration. What if someone gave him a knife? Will he be like those guards in movies that were without a name but worked hard?

"Master."

"Yes. Any trouble?" Luo Qiu nodded.

Miss. Maid stepped closely, "It is a curious monster with a lot of power. I have warned him. Is that OK?"

"Do as you like." Luo Qiu smiled and picked up something from her shoulder.

"This..." You Ye frowned. She liked to stay clean and usually would not have any dust on her.

"It seems to be a hair. It must belong to that curious monster." Luo Qiu continued to sweep her shoulder.

"Master, I was careless." Miss. Maid’s face revealed an apologetic expression.

"It’s nothing. As you said, he is a pretty powerful monster. Such little tricks are common." Luo Qiu smiled, "The power structures between the east and the west are different. And ours is also distinct from the others. So it is not strange."

Luo Qiu was looking at the short, blonde hair... which was only half-a-finger long. He opened his hand suddenly, allowing this hair to lay on his palm. Then, this hair was broken into small pieces and disappeared automatically.

"You are just like a lion that wouldn’t pay much attention to the ants. This is my first time to see your cute, regretful expression, too."

You Ye nodded and reverted back to that all-purpose Miss. Maid.

"Let’s enjoy the songs." Luo Qiu saw two young people coming in the stage with guitars. While waving their hands, Cheng Yiran began his solo with energetic music rising up.

Luo Qiu drank up the last mouthful of ’Gin-Fizz’ and said, "Tai Yinzi, since you found the customer, get to work."

"I... got it." Tai Yinzi nodded.

...

...

Someone said that the rock music was dead in this country, but it isn’t. For Cheng Yiran and the others who loved rock, it had never been dead. However, rock fans were declining these years, which made rock musicians fearful and hurt to face the mainstream audience.

Maybe some of the musicians could bring it into the stage once and once again occasionally. They were still a few exceptions in this country. How many years will it take for rock music to be as popular as before? Who knows? Fewer people will succeed. One couldn’t be popular if one was not pretty. One couldn’t be famous if one didn’t have a strong background. One could only be at this small stage due to the lack of singing skills.

The audience were excited... because of alcohol and hot girls but not the music.

Cheng Yiran sped up his fingers on the guitar but he could feel clearly that his fingers were numbed and painful. However, his heart felt even worse. His music was only a tool to set the mood. Nobody cared about HIM!

This was not what he wanted... There was a voice saying that, was that what you wanted?

Was this his voice or someone else?

He heard nothing suddenly. A buzzing voice was ringing in his mind, piercing his pride, piercing his determination. When he returned to reality was the screeching sounds from the amplifiers.

Cheng Yiran was shocked and terrified as all the audience looked at him, face to face. He realized that his string had broke under his crazy playing. He, broke the string.

Cheng Yiran opened his mouth but he couldn’t say anything. He was controlled by his fears and moved backward step by step.

Upon seeing this, Hong Guan began to play his electric bass to save the performance.

"This is not what I want. This is not what I want." Cheng Yiran said in a low voice.

"This is not... what I want!" He shouted.

Bang---!

He threw the guitar on the ground and rushed out of the stage, leaving the confused audience and helpless Hong Guan.

...

Cheng Yiran washed his face again and again in one washing room of the nightclub. He made his hair wet subconsciously. Hong Guan used to tell him to calm down, no matter if it was anger or something else.

Cheng Yiran looked at himself in the mirror. There was no doubt that he was a total loser even in the mirror. He leaned against the wall with his hands hanging to the ground, sitting on the cold floor with a blank mind.

Suddenly, he pulled out a metal necklace and threw it away. He smiled and left the washing-room while laughing at himself. Cheng Yiran came to the top floor finally--- a place to end up everything.

Standing on the edge, he opened his arms with eyes closed.

"What a pity to die like this." A clear voice made him wake up.

"You can choose to exchange something with your life if you are willing to."

"Who are you?" Cheng Yiran couldn’t see anything but could only hear the voice.

"I can make you successful, would you like to have a try?"

"Who are you!"

"You are here... so there can only be you... and the you who can make your dreams come true."

The voice became deeper, "Come on... you can achieve your dreams if you want. And you can conquer this world with your music. Come on..."

"Come... with me..."

Cheng Yiran left the edge as if attracted by a spell... But he still couldn’t see anyone except him.

He went downstairs and came in front of a door. He opened the door, and saw two shadows, one sitting and one standing, in the darkness.

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