1642734778_punk-57-pdf

And he was right. It wasn’t long after college before he reformed Cipher
Core, all the original members back, and they began racking up the awards
and tour dates.
It’s been a hell of a ride, and it’s just starting.
I walk through the lobby, spotting Rika passing by the front desk.
“Hey, how are you?” she asks, carrying a duffel bag.
I take in her leggings, knee-high black boots, and oversized sweater, and
here I am, feeling like a planet. When is she going to get pregnant anyway?
Michael Crist’s wife—who’s from Thunder Bay, as well—and I have
become very close, and since her mom and Misha’s dad are suddenly very
close, we’ll all probably be family eventually.
I can’t complain. Their whole crew of friends is interesting, to say the
least, but they’re loyal.
I look at her apologetically, gesturing to the reporters behind me. “I’m
sorry about all this.”
But she just waves me off. “It’s happened with Michael when he makes
the play-offs, just not quite like that.” She laughs. “I think he’s jealous,
actually. But, hey, a basketball player is a basketball player. A rock star is a
rock star.”
“Don’t remind me.”
She adjusts the bag on her shoulder and keeps walking. “Well, I’m off
to the dojo and then Thunder Bay for the weekend. See you Monday, and
tell my future step-brother I said hi,” she jokes.
“Will do.” And I head for the elevators.
I ride up to the twenty-first floor where there are two penthouses, and
there’s only one floor above us, and that’s the Crists’. I love the view, and
I’m glad Misha likes to be in the city. We frequently spend time with his