Chapter 19: Chicago's Heartbeat
The van's tires hummed against the endless Midwest highways, the flat expanse of Illinois farmland stretching out like a blank canvas under a vast, star-pricked sky. It was Thursday night, the fourth stop on the Rebel Rising Tour barreling toward Chicago, two days after Denver's thunderous triumph that had pushed "City Lights" to 350,000 streams and forced Eclipse Records into a defensive crouch. The Hitmaker System's interface glowed on Sam's phone, its holographic text a steady beacon: "Mission Progress: 100%. Objective: Collaborate with local artist in Chicago to shatter Eclipse's narrative. Target: 30,000 streams for new collab track in 48 hours. Reward: Collaboration Module (Level 1). Warning: Eclipse's subpoena advancing—app security compromised? Counter-strategy: Secure local ally and expose interview lies."
Denver's storm-synced set had gone viral, the sabotage clip from Seattle amplified by fan remixes on TikTok, turning #EclipseSabotage into a cultural gut punch. Javier had the tech's statement locked in, ready for the hearing in eight days, but Eclipse's subpoena now demanded full access to Sam's "mysterious production software," hinting they suspected the Hitmaker System. Lily Voss's "tell-all" interview had backfired somewhat—fans dissected her "jealous ex" claims, with X threads uncovering old Eclipse contracts that screamed theft—but her stans rallied, pushing "Broken Promises" remix to #1 again. Soundwave announced a Vegas extension, tour fever at fever pitch.
Sam leaned back in the passenger seat, the van's interior a cocoon of guitar cases and snack wrappers. Mia drove through the night, her eyes heavy but determined, radio low on a Chicago blues station. "Denver was magic, Rivers. That thunder? Like the city's cheering us on. But Chicago—my kinda town. Windy, gritty, full of heart. We need a collab here, something to hit Eclipse where it hurts."
Sam nodded, scrolling emails from Rachel at Soundwave. "Got a lead—a local rapper, Jax 'Windy' Harlan, no relation to Jake, thank God. Blues-rap fusion, big in the underground. He DMed after Denver: wants to remix 'Break the Chains' with a Chicago twist. Fans love him—could be our shatterpoint."
The system pinged: "Collaboration viability: 92%. Suggested: Integrate rap verse on defiance theme. Projected impact: +50% urban streams." Sam grinned. "Jax it is. Text him—we link up on arrival."
Mia's phone buzzed with replies from the #IndieRebels chat: Chicago fans promising "eyes everywhere," spotting Eclipse scouts at O'Hare. Tara, dozing in the back, stirred. "Metro's tomorrow—1,500 capacity, added balcony for overflow. Leo's got backups for everything. But Javier says the subpoena's hearing next week—hide that phone."
Leo snorted from his bunk. "Eclipse thinks they can crack your magic box? Good luck."
They rolled into Chicago at dawn, the Loop's skyscrapers piercing the mist off Lake Michigan. The Metro, a punk-rock staple in Wrigleyville, awaited—a graffiti-covered fortress with a history of rebellion. Jax met them at soundcheck, a tall guy with cornrows and a Bears hoodie, his energy crackling like deep-dish pizza fresh from the oven. "Sam Rivers, Mia Torres—y'all are the talk. That Denver clip? Fire. Let's make 'Chains' Chicago-proof."
They jammed in a corner, Jax freestyling over "Break the Chains": Windy City's got that steel in the soul, / Break these chains, make the giants fold. The system wove it in seamlessly, suggesting a beat drop with horn samples echoing Chicago blues legends. They titled it "Chi-Town Chains," a collab track raw with street poetry and rock fury. By noon, a demo was cut, Jax's verse a lyrical Molotov: Eclipse in the shadows, but we light the skyline, / Sam's spark, my flow—watch their empire decline.
Fans swarmed the venue by evening, the line wrapping around the block in a sea of flannels and #IndieRebels tees. Wind whipped off the lake, carrying chants. Dani filmed a pre-show TikTok: Sam, Mia, and Jax hyping the collab. "Chicago, we're breaking chains tonight—with a Windy City twist!" Views hit 50,000 pre-doors.
Inside, the Metro throbbed—balcony packed, pit heaving. A local opener, a soulful band called Lakefront Fire, warmed with Motown covers. Sam spotted suits in the shadows—Eclipse? Fan texts confirmed: "Three near the bar—bounced!" Security, vigilant, cleared them.
Lights crashed down at 9 p.m., the crowd a heartbeat pulse. Sam hit the stage, mic blazing. "Chicago! Heart of the rebellion—you bleed music, you fight dirty. Eclipse's lies in that interview? We're calling 'em out tonight. With a special guest—Jax Windy!" The roar shook the foundations.
"Rebel's Anthem" opened fierce, the pit surging like Lake Michigan waves. Mia's guitar screamed, fans crowd-surfing signs. The stream kicked at 6,000 viewers, smooth—no sabotage, the Security Module a silent guardian.
"Faded Whispers" hushed the chaos, its ache mirroring the city's blues history. Sam's voice, gravelly from the road, drew tears; Mia's harmonies a lifeline. "City Lights" followed, lights mimicking the skyline, fans carving lyrics in the air.
"Unsilenced" built tension, Jax joining mid-chorus for an impromptu verse, the crowd losing it. Then, the debut: "Chi-Town Chains." Jax's rap kicked in gritty, Sam's rock chorus exploding: Break the chains, light the flame—Chicago style! Horns blared, the system syncing a bassline that thumped like El trains. The Metro quaked, stream at 10,000, comments wild: "Jax x Sam = LEGEND!" "#IndieRebels own Chi-town!"
"Break the Chains" original closed the main set, Jax trading bars with Mia. Encore: "Seven Nation Army," the riff a subway rumble, whole venue stomping. Jax led a fan chant: "Eclipse falls, rebels rise!"
Backstage, high-fives flew. Jax grinned. "That's a hit, fam. Uploading now—streams'll fly." "Chi-Town Chains" dropped on Spotify, hitting 10,000 streams in the first hour. Rachel texted: "Vegas locked—2,000 cap. Collab's blowing up!"
But Javier's call cut the joy: "Subpoena's approved partial— they get metadata, not the app core. But Jake's pushing for a deposition. Eclipse knows something about your 'system.'"
Sam's grip tightened on his phone, the interface flickering. The system upgraded: "Firewall enhanced. Trace incoming threats." A new text from unknown: "Chicago was cute. New York's your end. —J.H."
Mia saw his face. "New York next. We end this tour with a bang—expose everything."
The system chimed: "Mission Complete: 30,000 streams achieved. Next: New York finale—confront Lily's narrative head-on." As the van hit the interstate, Chicago's lights receding, Sam's heart beat with the city's pulse. Eclipse was cracking, but the final stand loomed.