Chapter 14: The Smoking Gun
The Austin motel room was a cramped, fluorescent-lit box with peeling wallpaper and a faint smell of stale cigarettes, but to Sam Rivers and Mia Torres, it felt like a war room. It was Sunday morning, less than twelve hours after their electrifying IndieFest performance, and the adrenaline still lingered. The Hitmaker System's interface glowed on Sam's phone, its holographic text pulsing: "Mission Progress: 100%. Objective: Secure evidence to counter Eclipse's legal claims. Target: Obtain proof of sabotage at IndieFest. Reward: Legal Defense Module (Level 2). Warning: Competitor retaliation imminent. Counter-strategy: Leverage evidence to shift public narrative." The system's analytics showed "Rebel's Anthem" at 600,000 streams, "Break the Chains" at 250,000, and #IndieRebels dominating X, but Eclipse Records' defamation claim and Lily Voss's emotional #StarlightReign campaign were gaining ground.
Sam sat on the edge of a lumpy mattress, scrolling through X. The anonymous tip from last night—"Check the sound booth logs. Eclipse paid off a tech. #IndieRebels"—had set his mind racing. If true, it could prove Eclipse sabotaged their IndieFest set, a silver bullet for Javier's legal defense. But chasing it was risky; Eclipse's lawyers were circling, and the hearing was four days away.
Mia, sprawled on the other bed with her guitar, strummed a soft riff, her eyes sharp. "You think that tip's legit, Rivers? Could be a troll trying to mess with us."
Sam nodded, rubbing his stubble. "Maybe. But it's too specific to ignore. The sound cut wasn't random—Greg was right there, smirking. If we get those logs, we could bury Eclipse."
The system pinged: "Investigation Strategy: Contact festival tech crew for booth logs. Suggested contact: Leo's network." Sam texted Leo, who was back in LA prepping tour gear: "Ask your festival buddies about sound booth logs from IndieFest. Need proof Eclipse messed with us."
Leo replied instantly: "On it. Got a guy, Carlos, who worked the main stage. He's cagey but owes me a favor. Give me a day."
Mia set her guitar down, leaning forward. "If we get the logs, we leak 'em to X. Let the fans tear Eclipse apart. But we gotta keep the tour hype going—Soundwave's announcing tickets tomorrow."
Sam agreed. The five-city tour—San Francisco, Seattle, Denver, Chicago, New York—was their next big move, with Soundwave covering venues and KXLA promoting. The system's Tour Support Module had unlocked venue contacts and crowd engagement tips, suggesting a setlist tweak: open with "Rebel's Anthem" for energy, close with "Break the Chains" for defiance. Sam posted a teaser on X: "Tour's coming, #IndieRebels! First stop: SF. Who's ready to break the chains? #RebelRising." It hit 10,000 likes in an hour, fans flooding the comments: "Chicago's gonna be LIT!" "Take my money!"
But Eclipse wasn't idle. A new X post from their account read: "We protect our artists' rights. False accusations harm the industry. #StarlightReign." Attached was a clip of Lily performing "Broken Promises" at a sold-out LA show, her voice soft, eyes glistening—a masterclass in sympathy. The comments were split: half praising her, half slamming her as "manipulative." One viral reply caught Sam's eye: "Lily's crying crocodile tears while Eclipse screws Sam. #IndieRebels."
Sam showed Mia, his jaw tight. "She's playing the martyr, and it's working. Her stans are eating it up."
Mia scoffed, grabbing her phone. "Let's remind 'em who's real. Post a behind-the-scenes clip from IndieFest—something raw, like us prepping backstage."
The system chimed: "Exclusive content increases fan loyalty by 30%. Suggested: Share candid moment with emotional hook." Sam scrolled through Dani's footage, finding a clip from IndieFest: him and Mia laughing in the wings, tuning guitars, moments before the sound cut. He posted it on TikTok and X: "This is us, fighting for you. Eclipse tried to stop us at IndieFest. We're still here. #IndieRebels." The clip hit 50,000 views in an hour, fans raving: "You guys are unstoppable!" "#BoycottEclipse."
By noon, they were back on the road, the van rattling toward LA. Tara, the stage manager, drove, while Sam and Mia planned the tour setlist. The system fed Sam a new lyric for a tour-exclusive song: We'll carve our names in the city lights, / Rebels rising through the endless nights. Mia hummed it, sketching chords on her phone.
Leo called at 3 p.m., his voice low. "Got something. Carlos says the sound booth logs show a manual override during your set—someone cut the main feed for 30 seconds. He won't testify, but he sent me a screenshot. It's timestamped, matches Greg's presence. Sending it now."
Sam's phone pinged with the screenshot—a log entry showing "Manual Disconnect: 20:07:45" during "Break the Chains." His heart raced. "This is it, Mia. Proof Eclipse sabotaged us."
Mia grinned, fist-bumping him. "Leak it to Javier, let him use it in court. Then we drop it on X after the hearing—maximum damage."
The system chimed: "Evidence secured. Strategy: Present to legal team discreetly. Public release post-hearing increases impact by 40%." Sam forwarded the screenshot to Javier, who replied: "Gold. I'll use this to challenge their injunction. Keep it quiet until I say."
Back in LA by evening, they met Javier at his law clinic office, a cluttered space stacked with legal files. He studied the screenshot, nodding. "This ties Greg to the sabotage. It's not a slam dunk, but it shows bad faith. I'll argue Eclipse is using frivolous claims to suppress you. The judge might dismiss their case."
Sam exhaled, relief mixing with dread. "What if they retaliate? They've got the cash to bury us."
Javier's eyes hardened. "They're overplaying their hand. Your fanbase is your shield—keep them engaged. The tour announcement tomorrow will help."
Mia leaned forward. "We're dropping tour tickets at noon. Soundwave's pushing for small venues, 500-1,000 capacity. Intimate, like Grand Park."
The system pinged: "Tour announcement strategy: Highlight fan connection. Suggested: Live Q&A pre-tour to boost ticket sales." Sam nodded, drafting an X post: "Tour tickets drop tomorrow, #IndieRebels! Join us live tonight @ 8 PM PST for a Q&A—let's talk music and rebellion. #RebelRising." Fans flooded the replies: "Seattle's ready!" "Chicago's gonna lose it!"
The Q&A, streamed from Leo's studio, was a hit. Sam and Mia sat on folding chairs, guitars in hand, answering fan questions: "What's the tour vibe?" (Raw, real, no corporate BS.) "Any new songs?" (Wait and see.) They teased a snippet of the new lyric—We'll carve our names in the city lights—and the chat exploded: "NEW BANGER!" "Take all my money!" The stream hit 15,000 viewers, and Soundwave reported 2,000 ticket pre-orders.
But Eclipse struck back. At 10 p.m., a new email from their legal team: "Cease defamatory statements or face escalated damages." Attached was a cease-and-desist letter naming Sam's X posts as "libelous." Worse, a new X post from Lily hit: "I never wanted drama. My heart's in my music. #StarlightReign." The video showed her strumming "Broken Promises" in a candlelit room, tears falling—a calculated gut punch.
Sam's phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: "Back off, Rivers. You're out of your league. —J.H." Jake Harlan. Sam showed Mia, his blood boiling.
"They're scared," she said, eyes blazing. "That screenshot's got them rattled. We drop 'Break the Chains' as a single after the hearing, tie it to the tour. Let's make 'em choke."
The system chimed: "Next objective: Release 'Break the Chains' post-hearing to capitalize on legal outcome. Projected streams: 500,000." Sam gripped his notebook, the lyric burning: Rebels rising through the endless nights. The smoking gun was in their hands, but Eclipse was loading a bigger weapon. The hearing would be a battlefield, and Sam was ready to fight.