Chapter 18: Denver's Thunder
The Rocky Mountains loomed like jagged sentinels under a bruised Denver sky as the tour van crested the final hill into the city, the air crisp with the promise of high-altitude thunder. It was Tuesday evening, the third stop on the Rebel Rising Tour, mere hours after the Seattle showdown that had exposed Eclipse Records' latest sabotage attempt. The Hitmaker System's interface pulsed on Sam's phone, its holographic text cutting through the dashboard glow: "Mission Progress: 100%. Objective: Expose sabotage evidence pre-Denver to deter further attacks. Target: 20,000 streams for 'City Lights' post-exposure. Reward: Security Module (Level 1) Upgrade. Warning: Eclipse retaliation escalating—monitor communications. Counter-strategy: Publicize Seattle footage to rally support."
"City Lights" had surged to 250,000 streams after Seattle, its rainy reverb mix resonating with fans who flooded TikTok with cityscape covers, carving their own "names in the lights." The tampered cable footage—captured by a vigilant fan—had gone viral on X, #EclipseSabotage trending alongside #IndieRebels, forcing Javier to accelerate the legal push. The sworn statement from the Seattle tech was en route, bolstering their case for the hearing in ten days. But Eclipse hit back hard: a subpoena for Sam's phone intensified, now demanding app data, and Lily Voss's "tell-all" interview aired that morning, painting Sam as the "jealous ex" who "stole her sound." Her fans swarmed, but #IndieRebels held firm, with Soundwave announcing a bonus tour date in LA post-New York.
Sam shifted in the passenger seat, the van's wipers slapping against a light drizzle. Mia drove, her knuckles white on the wheel, eyes scanning the rearview for tails. "That interview was pure BS, Rivers. Lily acting like the innocent diva? Fans aren't buying it—check the replies."
Sam scrolled X, the interview clip buried under comments: "Lily's team is toxic #IndieRebels" "Sam's music slaps harder than her tears." He posted the Seattle footage with a caption: "Eclipse tried to cut our sound in Seattle. Fans wouldn't let them. Proof attached. We're unbreakable. #EclipseSabotage #RebelRising." Views hit 100,000 in minutes, streams for "City Lights" ticking up to 18,000.
Tara, in the back with Leo and Dani, leaned forward. "Denver's Bluebird Theater—1,200 capacity, sold out twice over. But the promoter called: Eclipse's rep inquired about 'security upgrades.' Could mean anything from extra guards to… you know."
The system pinged: "Security Module Active. Preemptive check: Scan venue blueprints for vulnerabilities." Sam had unlocked the upgrade in Seattle—now it flagged potential weak points like unsecured power lines. "We'll sweep on arrival," he said. "Fans are our best defense—post a call for 'rebel spotters' in Denver."
Mia's X post went live: "Denver #IndieRebels, guard the stage! Eclipse might crash the party. Spot 'em, shout 'em out. See you at Bluebird! #RebelRising." Replies poured in: "We'll be there!" "No suits allowed!"
The Bluebird Theater was a neon-lit gem in Capitol Hill, its art deco facade buzzing with fans under umbrellas. A line stretched around the block, thunder rumbling in the distance. Backstage, the crew unloaded gear under Tara's watchful eye. Leo tested the soundboard, the system's monitoring overlay highlighting a suspicious loose wire—pre-sabotage? He tightened it, muttering, "Not on my watch."
Soundcheck was tense but flawless. Sam and Mia ran "City Lights," the high altitude giving their vocals an ethereal edge. The system suggested a thunder-sample overlay for the bridge, syncing with the storm outside: Our fire burns where the shadows fight. Mia's grin was fierce. "This city's got thunder in its veins—perfect for us."
Fans packed the theater by 8 p.m., the air electric with mountain air and rebellion. A local opener, a blues-rock trio called Thunder Road, hyped the crowd with gritty riffs. Sam peeked from the wings, spotting two suits in the balcony—Eclipse scouts? Fan texts buzzed in the group chat: "Suits at row 5—filming!" Security, tipped off, escorted them out mid-set, to cheers.
Lights down, the roar hit like a lightning strike. Sam and Mia stormed the stage, spotlights cracking like thunder. "Denver!" Sam yelled, mic crackling with energy. "From the peaks to the plains—you're the thunder in this rebellion. Eclipse is striking back, but we're the storm they can't stop. Let's light it up!"
"Rebel's Anthem" exploded, the crowd moshing as rain lashed the windows. Mia leaped into the fray, guitar wailing, pulling fans into a circle pit. The stream launched at 4,000 viewers, no glitches—the Security Module holding firm.
"Faded Whispers" brought intimacy, the theater hushed under balcony lights mimicking stars. Sam's voice trembled on the bridge, vulnerability raw: Whispers in the wind, carried away. Mia's harmonies wrapped him, their gaze lingering—a spark beyond the stage, unspoken but electric.
"Unsilenced" reignited the fury, ukulele strums building to a roar. Thunder boomed outside, syncing perfectly, fans chanting like a ritual. The system boosted the mix, countering a faint hum—another attempt? Leo neutralized it seamlessly.
Mid-set, Sam paused, thunder rolling. "Seattle fans caught Eclipse tampering last night. Denver, you with us?" The crowd thundered "YES!" He dropped the sabotage clip on the screens—Greg slinking away. Boos rained down, the stream exploding: "#EclipseExposed!"
"Break the Chains" followed, its hook a lightning bolt. The crowd surged, singing Light the flame, claim our name, as real lightning flashed outside. "City Lights" debuted in full thunder-mode, the system's overlay adding storm effects: We'll carve our names in the city lights. Fans waved phone lights, carving the air.
They closed with "Seven Nation Army," the riff shaking the foundations. Encore: an acoustic "Sparks in the Dark," Mia and Sam back-to-back, voices blending in the storm's lull. The theater shook with applause, thunder applauding from the skies.
Backstage, Rachel called: "Denver's viral—'City Lights' at 22,000 streams already. Tour's extending—LA added, then Vegas talks." Javier texted: "Sabotage clip's gold for court. Tech statement incoming."
But Jake's text hit: "Thunder's loud, but lightning strikes back. Your app's ours soon." Sam's blood chilled—the subpoena. The system upgraded: "Encryption Level 2: Biometric lock engaged."
Mia hugged him, rain-soaked. "Chicago next. They're crumbling, Sam."
The system chimed: "Mission Complete. Next: Chicago climax—new collab to shatter Eclipse." As thunder faded, Denver's lights blazed, the rebellion rolling on.