The next morning Fade woke up again because of the noise that Jag was making in the kitchen. The microwave signalled the end of the heating cycle with a noisy sound.

The girl sat dazed on the mattress and looked at the opposite side of the room, a number of rags rolled into the shape of a mattress brought to mind the night before, when she had prepared a bed for her new and very weird acquaintance.

The boy presented a plate with a steaming waffle covered with a sticky sauce, which she eyed suspiciously, but she didn't hesitate to eat it.

After an endless amount of time, which the girl needed to finish her hairdo, the two were on the street and began to quarrel about a question left open the day before: the brat insisted that it was impossible not to know the group of which he was a huge fan, because they were world-famous; the girl, for her part, retorted that she didn't give a damn about a stupid band. The argument went on until they entered the place where they were directed, a music CD shop. He rushed inside, leaving her, dumbfounded, at the door; she didn't even know why she was there, but the excitement that the little boy put into everything he did managed, somehow, to cloak the mess that was getting tangled in her head. She skated inside, finding herself surrounded by shelves full of CDs with many different graphics.

She observed the illustrations of a few covers for a while, and then she reached the child who was standing in a corner, wearing some headphones that were too big for his head. He seemed mesmerized by the music and he sang the song he was hearing, while holding a CD case. When she approached him, he took off his headphones and said, "Here! Listen to this!"

"Are you kidding? I'll ruin my hairdo!"

"Then look!" He said, handing her the album that he was holding tight. Fade half-heartedly took the case and glanced at the cover. It was a picture of a group of four people in front a totally black background. "Dull" she thought, and began to consider the members of the group: two boys with a girl between them, modelling in a cool pose; behind them loomed a curly-haired boy of considerable height, his stature would probably have been overwhelming in person.

The two in the front stared at the camera with diametrically opposed expressions: the first, with an extremely 'Emo' hairstyle, had a thoughtful look that seemed to communicate what his whole life was a continuous torture; the other displayed a grin which seemed to tease you because he had achieved success and all you could do was envy him. The latter, especially, stood out for his dress code. A half unbuttoned dark shirt showed a jumble of ornaments around his neck. Finally there was the girl, smooth black hair, deep shiny eyes as dark as the night. She stood in the centre of the page with her arms crossed. Her eyes observed you from head to toe, as though you were a nullity and she dangled a cigarette from her mouth. The smoke, clearly added with a miserable editing intervention, rose up to form the band name. "Momuht" Fade read.

"They don't look that special to me", she said, handing the case back to the boy who greedily grabbed it, holding it tight, as to protect it. "You don't understand..." he started walking towards the exit "They need me..." She pretended not to hear the last sentence and followed him to the counter.

"I'll buy this" the boy exclaimed, standing on his toes, handing the album to the clerk, paying and leaving the store contemplating his new purchase.

Jag was walking on clouds, admiring the album from all angles; he immediately tore the cellophane and glanced at the inner cover to see if there were other images; a joyful laugh confirmed the positive outcome. When he opened the lyrics booklet, the child began to gleefully comment on all the photos in it, describing the person and the role they had in the band, bringing the booklet up to Fade's face, who uninterestedly glanced at it; she didn't like those fanatic motions and poses, they were pretty annoying to her. She had never liked those who behaved like "fucking fanatics", and - to that band - it seemed that the term was perfectly fitting.

Once they arrived close to their 'secret hiding place' the girl suddenly stopped, then she caught the boy by the collar and pulled him back. "What's the matter?" asked Jag, quite annoyed by the interruption of his daydream. She frowned and motioned for him to follow her to an alley, and then they started spying from around the corner.

A police car and a fire truck were stationed in front of the building in which the girl lived; several policemen investigated by stopping passers-by. A fireman came out and spoke to an agent. "Yes, the house is inhabited: the electric cable that was reported to us was illegally redirected to this condemned building." At those words, Fade felt the impulse to choke her improvised companion, but she controlled herself, "Do you see what you did?" she said, whispering, despite the desire to yell at him "I told you not to install those stupid electric appliances! Now they found me out!"

He didn't answer but seemed visibly disturbed. After a moment of hesitation he suggested, "Then come away with me, I'll give you a new home in the place where I'm going."

The girl looked at him, she was almost sending him to hell, but something made her hesitate. She remembered too well how much sacrifice it had been to find that room, how hard it was to find a place among thousands of homeless people and build a life from scratch. The thought of having to start it all over again in a city with an already high population density — with the tangible risk of getting in trouble and having no home to come back to; to search for all the items that were part of her daily life, to arrange the spaces around her, to ration the supplies, and then, to suddenly find herself without all the things that represented the world drove her crazy. Her mind was about to collapse, but she was startled by the noise from the firefighters that carried out boxes in which they had packed all of her stuff.

She couldn't stand it, she couldn't believe she had to accept his offer, but she realized that, by the present time, whatever she had built for herself was gone. "Let's get out of here," she said, turning away in her skates.

The next few minutes they walked in total silence. Jag followed the girl with his head bent holding the cover of his new CD, but his mood was definitely different from when he had bought it. She broke the ice by asking:

"So where's this place you're headed? The one on the map, I guess..."

The boy stopped suddenly "Yes. We can leave at once!" He exclaimed, heartened.

"What are you talking about?" But she couldn't finish her sentence because a car with dark windows stopped beside them. The driver came out and spoke to the boy obsequiously, while he opened the door for them: "Have a seat, sir."

Jag jumped in excitedly as if he had never experienced such a similar experience before, but the girl was reluctant to get into the car.

"Have a seat, miss" the driver said, bending lightly.

"Come on Fade, hop in!" The childish voice from inside the car prompted her "We have a plane to catch!"

"A plane? Are you crazy? I don't even have any documents! How do you think...?"

"It's a private plane, silly! Get in!"

That last sentence shocked her so much that she got into the car without realizing it. The door closed carefully behind her.

"Who the hell are you, the son of a prince?" She asked.

"Yes, the son of the Devil!"

"Get over it," she hushed him, annoyed, while leaning her face on her hand and looking out, from the window, the constant flow of all things.

The car stopped at a small out-of-the-way airport on the outskirts of the city. The girl began to show the first doubts about her sudden departure: "I have nothing with me; I don't even have an identity..."

"We'll fly with a private airline, for now you don't need an identity. When we get there, we'll see what we can do", in saying so, he waited for the door to open and then got out of the car. Fade sat in the car, confused, but when her door opened, she followed him.

As they climbed the ladder to the small airplane, he couldn't help but ask, "How do you manage to go everywhere on those skates?"

"They're rollerblades," she said, "and I've been wearing them almost forever..." she answered, thinking that it was more than enough of an explanation.

Inside the passenger compartment, the boy amusedly watched the girl who was having a lot of trouble settling in her seat. Despite the fact that the plane had far fewer passenger seats than a normal flight, Fade banged into everything; furthermore, she clumsily hit the flight attendants who tried to help her to her seat with her hairdo.

Once the funny demonstration was over and the two unfortunate and decisively stunned stewards had been dismissed, she snorted: "Was it necessary for them to ruin my hair?" She complained. "It's not really suitable for sitting in an airplane; you can fix it once we land..." was his answer.

The rest of the journey proceeded in total silence.

The girl looked out of the window and reflected on a strange similarity: despite a lifetime of escaping, the world around her had continued to go round while she was still standing in the same spot. Being there, in that precise moment, on that plane, forced her to wonder if she could have considered it a first true step towards some undetermined direction.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the boy. "Is it the first time that you travel by plane?"

The girl answered without even turning. "Yes"

"Are you scared?"

This time she turned towards him in surprise: "Why should I be scared?"

"Well I don't know, many people are afraid of traveling by plane: they fear a disaster. Not having an escape route makes them restless and they begin to say things like they prefer to travel attached to the ground..."

"I'm not concerned," she said dryly as she turned back to the window.

"Rather, what are you going to do once we get there?" She asked, to break the silence.
"I'm going to find the Momuhts! I want to be part of their band!"

"What a terrible idea!" The girl continued without giving him too much importance.

"No it's not! They'll welcome me! My arrival will change their lives!"

His tone of voice caught the attention of the redhead; the child seemed to be obsessed by that band.

"You never seemed like a normal guy to me, now I'm sure of it" she concluded with disapproval.
Jag leaned back in his seat with an evil grin on his face. He had great projects in his mind for his addition to the band and he had every intention of using any means to gain the favour of the group's leader. He dozed off indulging in his childish dreams, fantasizing on the wonderful prospects for his future.