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Rated: E · Fiction · Music · #1930161
Josh and Gabe get discovered
Chapter 6

         On a Thursday night in mid-October, Josh and Gabe were officially “discovered.”  A man named Chris Jackson walked into the pub that evening and instinctively knew within a few minutes that he’d stumbled upon a pair of diamonds in the rough.
           It was a relatively slow night and the two troubadours were sitting at the bar together on a break, chatting away about nothing in particular.
         “After six months of doing this you’d think I could remember my own lyrics,” Gabriel mused.
         “Don’t be offended, man, but the audience didn’t know the difference,” Josh reassured him.  “You could sing the Declaration of Independence instead and they may or may not notice.”
         At that moment they became aware that someone they didn’t recognize had sidled up to the bar right next to Gabriel.  He ordered a beer, then turned to face both of them.
         “Excuse me, boys,” he said.  “I know you’ve heard this a million times before but what are you guys doing in a tiny place like this?”
         Josh rolled his eyes while Gabriel was his usual congenial self.
         “Just playing a little music, bro,” he said to Chris.  “It sure beats working for a living!”
        Josh leaned forward, elbows on the bar, and gave Chris a suspicious look.  “Why do you ask?” he inquired of the stranger.
         “To be honest, you seem too tight and polished to be stuck out here wasting away in an Arizona pub,” Chris said.  The beer arrived and he took a swig.
         Josh grinned knowingly and nodded.  “Oh, I get it.  You’re a club owner looking for new slaves.”
         Chris feigned outrage.  “Hey, now.  No need to hurl insults!”  He chuckled slightly before continuing.  “I’m a talent agent based in L.A., for your information, so I’m always on the lookout for potential clients.  I have a lot of close friends in the music industry that might be interested in what you two have to offer.  I just happened to be town because I grew up here and I’m visiting my family for a few days.  I’m glad we chose to come in here tonight.”
         “You’re a real agent in the music business?  Cool!” Gabriel gushed as he shook his hand.  “Pleased to meet you.”
         Josh reluctantly reached over and shook Chris’ hand, as well.
         “I’m Gabriel Brewer and this is Joshua Kelly.  We’re Josh and Gabe.”
         “I’m Chris Jackson.  Look, I’ll cut right to the chase.  Do you guys have a demo tape?  I like your original songs and I’d like to play them for some A&R guys I know on the coast.”
         “Yeah?  What’s in it for you?” Josh asked.
         “Well, if I was lucky enough to get you a deal I’d want to get you signed on with my management company and then I’d start taking a percentage.  That’s how things normally work, you know.”
         “What kind of percentage are we talking about?” Josh inquired.
         Chris grinned.  “Oh now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.  I’m just trying to help you two out.  You’re good.  Very good, as a matter of fact.  What you’re writing and singing is what’s happening right now and I’m intrigued.”
         “We’ve got some of our tunes on tape.  We recorded them at a friend’s garage studio,” Gabriel said.
         “All of them copywritten, too,” Josh added quickly.
         Chris smiled and nodded.  “Excellent.  That makes you smarter than most.  And it also means you’ve got absolutely nothing to lose.  I’ve got to get back to my table but I’ll drop by again this weekend and pick up a cassette copy if that’s okay.”
         “No problem,” Gabriel chirped.
         “Keep doing what you’re doing, boys.  You’re on the right track,” Chris said.  He tossed his business card on the bar in front of them and walked away.  Gabriel picked it up and examined it closely.
         “Wow!  I think he’s the real deal, man.  Can you believe it?  He said he liked our songs,” Gabriel said.  He was almost giddy.
         Josh, on the other hand, was less than exuberant.  “Calm down, Gabe.  Guys like him are a dime a dozen in California and they’re like sharks in a wading pool.”
         “I know but, like he said, what have we got to lose?  We made that demo for this very reason, right?”
         “Don’t get me wrong.  We’ll give him a tape if he comes back but I just want you to realize that even if he does we’ll probably never hear from him again.  He’s most likely just trying to impress some girl he’s with.”
         “That could be but, then again, maybe this is the break we’ve been waiting for.  We have to take a few chances.”
         “And a chance is all we’ve got.  A fat one, at that.  Just try not to get your hopes up too high. That’s all I’m saying.”

         Amy was sound asleep in the middle of the night four weeks later when Gabriel came barging into the bedroom like an excited bull.  He turned on the lamp sitting on the nightstand and plopped down on the bed.  She immediately thought that something must be terribly wrong but within seconds she could tell that Gabriel was beside himself with joy.
         “Amy!  Wake up, baby!  You’re not going to believe what’s happening!”
         “Huh?  Believe what?” she said groggily, trying to focus.
         “Josh and I are going to cut an album in L.A.!  Our songs are going to be on a record!  A real record!”
         Amy rubbed her eyes.  “A record?  What are you talking about?”
         “Remember that talent agent dude I told you about that came into the pub a while back and said he liked us?  Chris Jackson?”
         “Sorta.”
         “Well, we gave him one of our demo tapes and then we didn’t hear a word from him for a month.  Then tonight he strolls into the pub out of nowhere and says Globe Records wants us!  Globe!  Isn’t that crazy?”
         He pulled her up and hugged her but, caught up in his enthusiasm, he failed to detect the hint of worry in her eyes or the trepidation in her voice.  “Oh, Gabriel…,” was all she could muster in response.
         “Josh can’t believe it, either.  He didn’t think Chris was legitimate but I had a gut feeling about him and I was right.  He’s the kind of guy who can make great things happen for us.”
         “But Los Angeles?  When?  For how long?”
         “We don’t know all of the details yet but he said it would be soon enough.  Of course, we have to sign an exclusive management contract before things can move forward but that’s what all acts like ours have to go through in the beginning.  I just know deep down we can trust him.”
         Amy said nothing.  He pulled back and looked into her face.  He spotted a tear in her eye.  He frowned and wiped it away.
         “Hey, baby.  What’s this?  I thought you’d be excited for me.  Are you concerned that I’ll get the big head or something?  No way.  Nothing will change my love for you and nothing can come between us.  You know that.”
         “It already has,” she thought to herself.  She put on a smile as she reached up and wiped another tear away.  “Nothing’s wrong, Gabe.  I’m just happy for you, that’s all.  I’m not surprised that others see in you what I see every day.  I’m so proud of you.”  She kissed him.
         “Hey!  I gotta call B.W., wake him up and tell him the big news.  Go back to sleep and I’ll be in later.  I love you.”
         He gave her a peck on the lips, then got up and left the room.  Amy laid back down and suddenly the tears came in a torrent.  Her heart sank like a stone.  More lonely nights were in store and now there’d be lonely days, as well.  She wished she didn’t need him so much.

         Joshua Kelly was maintaining a much more reserved and cautious attitude about the whole deal.  He’d been through more than one “sure thing” in his lifetime that didn’t pan out as advertised so he was understandably skeptical.  He had once cut half an album’s worth of material with one band that seemed to have everything going for them.  But then the shocking news arrived that their record company had been sold lock, stock and barrel to a huge corporation and all the label’s existing contracts had been rendered null and void in the span of a single morning.  The group was devastated and they broke up two months later.  He’d also been approached on several occasions by slick, fast-talking industry reps and talent scouts who, much like Chris Jackson, claimed to have a deal in their pocket.  Unscrupulous shysters who promised the world but, in the end, delivered nothing but hot air.  He didn’t doubt Chris’ sincerity but he wasn’t going to uncork the champagne just yet until after he read the fine print and signed on the dotted line.
         Josh was, by nature, a loner.  He wasn’t unsociable or rude but most folks could tell from his body language that he preferred to be left alone.  It seemed like he always had a book or a magazine he was busy reading and he was one of those serious-minded guys that’s always thinking, never allowing himself to be frivolous or silly.  After landing the job with Gabriel he found a one-bedroom efficiency apartment near the pub with a reasonable rent and moved his few belongings into it.  He treasured his privacy so much that he opted not to have a phone installed.  He stayed in touch with his family and friends by mail.  He figured that if someone needed to get in touch with him they could leave a message at the pub.
         Though he was strikingly handsome and had a distinctive singing voice that could melt a woman’s heart in two seconds flat, he avoided getting deeply involved with any of the ladies he met at the pub.  Years earlier he’d been madly in love with a striking, vivacious girl he’d met in college.  They’d almost gotten engaged but disagreements about his chosen profession of being a full-time musician eventually led to a nasty breakup.  He still carried some scars from that experience that he kept hidden.  He still thought of her often, though, and she provided inspiration for many of the touching heartbreak songs that made tears well up in the eyes of the duo’s female fans.  For the most part he avoided romantic relationships altogether, even going so far as to tell his willing lady admirers in advance that a passion-filled one-night stand was all they should expect from him.  That statement of brutal honesty turned away most of the candidates but not all of them.  Some ladies, being either naïve or overconfident, thought for sure they could change his mind but they were always disappointed in the end.  On most nights there’d be one or two of those disillusioned women hanging around, hoping that he’d give them another chance to capture his heart.  But Josh would act like they were invisible.  He felt that to be kind to them would be cruel.
         Fact was, Josh put all of his energy, effort and emotions into his music.  He set aside time every day for diligently practicing his scales and for formulating new song ideas.  He was a man on a mission.  He had no time for anything else that would distract him from his goal of singing his songs to the entire world.  Onstage he was the strong, silent half of the act in charge of quality control.  He played guitar expertly and sang lead on most of the tunes while Gabriel complimented him with basic guitar chords, harmonica and effortlessly-executed harmony vocals.  But Gabriel’s principal and much-needed contribution was centered in providing the sharp-witted, magnetic personality that Josh lacked.  Josh was a shy introvert who didn’t make friends easily.  His confidence was permanently welded to his music and he had no problem with that.  Gabriel, in stark contrast, was the charismatic showman who made everyone in the room pay attention to them.

         It turned out that Chris Jackson wasn’t a “big hat no cattle” charlatan after all and late in January Josh and Gabriel found themselves headed for the west coast in a well-used Chevy station wagon they’d pitched in together to buy.  They were headed into a future as wide open as the Arizona sky.  But it was also an all-or-nothing venture into the unknown that held no guarantees and no safety net so their mood was somewhat reserved.  Josh was driving the first leg of the journey.
         “We should make L.A. before morning,” he said.
         “Yeah.  I just hope this old clunker can go the distance.  I can’t believe this was the best car we could find.”
         “This scrap heap will get us there, I’m sure.  I’ve driven much worse.  Don’t be too worried about it.  Hey!  We’re going to go cut ourselves a record, man.  I thought you’d be happy and excited.  What’s eating you, anyway?”
         “I just keep thinking about Amy.”
         “Holy cow, Gabe!  We’ve only been gone a few hours and you’re already lovesick?  Jeepers.  I can tell you’re going to be a lot of fun in L.A.”
         “I don’t miss her yet.  I just know how much I’m going to miss her.  I thought I’d be over the moon about this California adventure, too, but riding shotgun in a strange car like this reminds me of lonely, hopeless times.  Times I never want to go through again.”
         “Well, since you’re acting so serious and all maybe this is a good time to take stock of where we’re at right now.  I was, as you know, extremely wary about Chris and what he could do for us at first but he came through with the goods and now we’re being granted the opportunity of a lifetime.  A very rare opportunity so let’s not blow this, okay Gabe?  The odds of getting to make an album of original tunes are heavily stacked against every kid who ever picks up a guitar before he even plays a single note so we’re the lucky ones by a long shot.  You and I need to stay focused on the task at hand while we’re in L.A. and not let ourselves become distracted by minor inconveniences.  That means we have to maintain a positive, professional attitude no matter what.  Amy’s just going to have to have a little faith in you.”
         Gabriel nodded.  “You’re right, man.  I’m no dummy.  But she means the world to me.  If not for her love, acceptance and encouragement none of this would even be happening.  Being separated from her is not a minor inconvenience.  Not to me, anyway.”
         Josh paused for a moment.  “I hope to God she never leaves you,” he said quietly.
         Gabriel gave Josh a despairing look.  “Where the hell did that come from, Josh?  You know her.  I’d trust her with Fort Knox.  She accepts me totally for who and what I am and she changed my life for the better a hundred times over.  When and if you and I hit it big I’m going to provide her with everything her heart desires.  We were meant to be.  We’re soul mates.”
         “So you say.  Look, I’m not trying to burst your bubble, man.  It’s just that I’ve never met a woman who looks at things in the long run the way a musician does.  What about the tours we’ll go on?  You know we’ll be gone for months at a time.  There’s going to be a lot of hard work involved.  Folks are investing money in us.  We have to hold up our part of the bargain by promoting the record wherever and whenever we can and that means travel.”
         “Amy and I both realize that.  We’re grownups.  We talked about it a lot.  There’s no issue there.  None at all.”
         “That’s good to hear but I’ve seen this scenario play out before.  More than a few times, too.  Sooner or later she starts noticing that all her female friends and relatives are getting married and having cute little kids.  Inevitably she starts yearning for those things to happen in her life now and where are you?  Out on the road, miles and miles away.  She starts feeling like she’s in second place because you’re not there for her when she needs you.  After a while you start looking like some kind of perpetual dreamer in her eyes, searching for buried treasure and eternal youth.  It’s not easy to love a musician.”
         “Amy knows she’s not second place in my life.  I don’t rank the important aspects of my life like a “to do” list tacked up on the fridge, anyway.  Do you?  If you don’t mind me saying so, I think you’re just down on women in general.”
         “Not really.  Just the voice of experience speaking through me.  I’m trying to prepare you for how rough it can get down the line.”
         “Amy and I can handle anything.  Nothing’s easy and love conquers all.”
         “I hope you’re right,” Josh said, reaching for another cigarette.

         The day after they arrived in L.A. they signed an exclusive management contract with Chris and two days later they inked their John Hancocks on a one album deal with Globe Records and the industry wheels started to turn.  They were assigned a young, ladder-climbing producer to oversee the album’s manufacture and began working with him every day at a rehearsal facility located in Reseda but he did very little that could’ve been called constructive.  He had almost no experience or acumen, his qualifications for the job arising wholly from being the fortunate son of a “somebody” in the music business.  For the most part Rick Fowler just showed up late and spent his time sleeping off his previous night’s pills and booze binge in the lounge while Josh and Gabriel worked with the drummer, keyboard player and bassist who would go into the studio with them.  By the end of March the album was almost finished and the pitifully unstable Mr. Fowler was doing a stint in rehab.  Despite his absence, the record possessed a simple and accessible aura about it that brought out the best of their budding talents.
         Josh had some practical knowledge about how to work in the studio environment but to Gabriel it was totally different from how he’d always envisioned it would be.  The process of recording a song was a tedious and often frustrating endeavor in which every component of the tune had to be scrutinized and debated on the spot before it could be accepted as being good enough.  And sometimes a single bridge section took half a day to get right.
         The long sessions and the late hours in hectic Los Angeles were more all-consuming than Gabriel could’ve ever imagined.  Despite his slight disillusionment stemming from his finding out how “the biz” really worked he trusted that Josh knew what he was doing and he doggedly pushed ahead without complaint.  He called Amy every night, counting the days until he could go back to Phoenix and be with her again.  Those almost three months apart seemed like three years.
         Sometimes she cried on the phone.  Sometimes she held out until he’d hung up the receiver.  More and more often she found herself feeling abandoned and very alone, wondering why she had to go and fall in love with a man who became so enamored with music that it took him away from her.  Finally, to keep from being so depressed and forlorn, she began to go out with some of her friends like Michelle and a few of her female co-workers from the office.  She let one of the persistent real estate agents that worked in her building treat her to lunch on occasion but she made it crystal clear that their friendship was strictly platonic.  Yet privately she couldn’t deny that it was nice to have a man make eyes at her and tell her she was pretty.
         His name was Kenny Kolb and he was an aggressive, determined agent who’d taken over his father’s business the year before at the age of 25.  He had a girlfriend who was a flight attendant but their affair was stormy and most likely doomed to failure.  He and Amy found common ground in griping about their significant others, how their jobs took them out of town too often and the general anxiety and angst they caused them on a daily basis.  Gabriel had met Kenny a few times before when he visited the pub but considered him to be a dorky, know-it-all stiff in a suit that posed no threat and he paid him little mind.
         Amy tried to spend more time with her family, too.  But it seemed like her siblings and all her cousins were constantly harping on the same subject.  “When are you going to get married, dear?” was like some accusatory mantra they chanted over and over and it made Amy cringe inside every time it came up in conversation.  Seeds of doubt began to take root in her subconscious.  She’d begun to question Gabriel’s real intentions but she was determined to see it through.  No matter what, he was “her man” and she was going to stick by him.  Deep down she still loved him like she’d never loved anyone before and she was convinced that she could never leave him.

         “When are you coming home, baby?  It’s been so long.  I need you here with me,” Amy sobbed into the phone one night.
         “You know I’ll be there just as soon as we finish the album, sweetheart.  You can’t miss me half as much as I miss you.  You may think we’re living it up out here but we’re not.  I didn’t realize what a perfectionist Josh is.  I’ve never worked so hard in my life,” Gabriel said.
         “Tell me you’ll never leave once you get back.”
         “Aww, you know I can’t say that, baby.  We’re under contract.  We may have to do some short road trips to promote the LP but nothing major or lengthy, I assure you.  Maybe you can go with me on tour.  It’d be a trip!”
         “I couldn’t quit my job again, Gabe.  They wouldn’t know what to do up there without me.  The place would go belly up in a day.  Besides, we tried that before and I couldn’t stand feeling like a groupie.  Just come home and I’ll be happy.  Please, baby?”
         “Let’s see.  This is April 12th.  Probably another week or so and we’ll be driving back to Phoenix.  Believe you me, I’m trying to make things move as fast as I can around here.  I’m so tired of this drab motel room I could puke.  Please keep the faith, Amy.  It won’t be much longer.  I promise I’m going to make this up to you.  I love you.”
         “I love you, too.  So very much.”
         “I’ll call tomorrow night, as usual.  Goodnight.”
         “Goodnight,” Amy whispered as she hung up the telephone.  But on this night she didn’t cry.  She had no tears left.  She just stared at the ceiling until sleep descended and forced her eyes shut.

         Amy was at her desk the next morning when Kenny came bouncing in, sporting his tried and true ear-to-ear salesman’s grin, beaming like a floodlight.  He walked right up to her desk and rapped his knuckles on it.
         “Good morning, gorgeous!” he said.
         She smiled.  “Good morning to you, Kenny.”
         “I just had to stop in for a refill of your beauty, dear girl.”
         “Right.  I hardly have any makeup on today.  You’re full of it, you know that?”
         He glanced down at his flashy, expensive watch, then took a seat next to her desk.
         “You know, since dad cleared out his office space and officially retired for good I’ve been so busy that I’ve hardly had time to visit with you.  How’ve you been, pretty girl?”
         “Just fine.”
         “Glad to hear it.  You still shacking up with the musician?  What’s his name?”
         “His name is Gabriel and, yes, I’m still sharing an apartment with him.  We’re still going strong.”
         “I read a blurb in the paper about him and that other guy.  Something about them running into snags making their record or something like that?”
         “Not really.  It’s just taking longer than they expected.  He and Josh are still in L.A. right now.  They’ve been at it for over three months but they’re just about done with it.”
         “I bet you’re happy about that.”
         “No kidding.  This sitting at home almost every night crap is getting real old.”
         Kenny shook his head.  “What a waste.  A great gal like you deserves better.  Why don’t you take in a movie with me sometime?”
         “I don’t think Gabriel would like that very much.”
         “Oh, come on.  What’s the harm?  Just a couple of friends out together to take in a flick.  You think he’s not partying it up out in Hollywood?  Get real.”
         “I’m not stupid.  He tells me about the parties they’ve gone to.  He has to hobnob with the label executives and reps.  It’s part of the business.  I’m sorry, but no.  I wouldn’t feel right about it.”
         Kenny shrugged his shoulders.  “Have it your way.  But at least let me take you to lunch.  Eating together is still okay, right?”
         “Sure.  But let’s be clear about this.  I like you as a friend, Kenny.  Nothing more.  I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
         Kenny gave her a wink and rose to leave.  “I don’t and I won’t.  I get out of a meeting at twelve thirty and we’ll go then.  Sound good?”
         “Anything but burgers,” Amy said.
         “Italian,” he suggested as he left.  The door closed behind him.
         Amy smiled and sat quietly for a moment, lost in thought.  Kenny could be a pain in the rear sometimes but it was flattering to be noticed.

         The album was completed at the end of April and slated to be released at the end of summer with the unassuming title of “Josh and Gabe.”  It had a palpable rustic charm about it, a mixture of pop, folk and country rock that reflected their easy-going style.  All of the tunes were on the mellow side with several of them containing a light orchestral score that gave them a touch of class.  But the focal points were Josh’s singing and guitar playing garnished with Gabriel’s seamless harmonies and simple harmonica flavorings.  It honestly presented them in much the same way they came off night after night on the small stage of the People’s Pub.
         They’d impressed Chris and the label by ignoring and overcoming the distractions that Rick Fowler’s bad habits and afflictions had brought to the project and by more or less producing the record themselves with the invaluable help of the studio engineer, Gordon King.  The executives at Globe really liked the final results and planned to aim their marketing strategies at the college-age demographic.
         Josh and Gabriel were more than satisfied with their debut effort and thought it had a good chance of finding a niche.  At the same time they were made aware by Chris that hundreds of albums were being released every month by dozens of labels as well as their subsidiaries and theirs would be just another in a tall stack.  Although he would do all he could to promote it, it was up to lady luck as to whether it would get an opportunity to be heard by the public.

         Their homecoming was a reason to celebrate.  Especially for Gabriel and Amy.  A festive “welcome home” party was held at the pub but Gabriel made no apologies that he and his adorable lady weren’t going to stay for very long.  He announced that they had some “private business” to attend to that was probably going to “take all night” and he made good on that promise.  When he and Amy got to the apartment he carried her across the threshold like a bride.
         Hours later they were resting side by side on their messy bed.
         “Good Lord, how I missed you,” she said.  “It was torture not having you here.”
         “Tell me about it.  I never knew that time could move so slowly.  The music biz is tougher than it looks but being without you was the toughest part of all,” he said.
         She snuggled up to him.  “Well, you’re home now and I’m not letting you out of my sight.  You belong to me now.”
         “I’m not going anywhere for a long, long while, that’s for sure!  I found out that cutting an album’s worth of tunes ain’t as much fun as they make it out to be in the movies.  It’s meticulous work.  Lots of it.  I’m just glad we’re done with the damned thing.  Chris said that realistically it could be late in the fall before the album is released.  Till then it’s back to the pub.  A man’s gotta earn a wage, you know.”
         “What happens when the record comes out?”
         “Perhaps nothing at all.  Maybe we’ll go out on a few short road trips to some colleges and visit a few radio stations around the area.  No big deal, really.”
         Amy sat up in the bed and folded her arms.  Gabriel reached up and gently rubbed her back but she didn’t respond.
         “What’s the matter, baby?”
         “Exactly how long will these short road trips take?”
         “Hell, I don’t know, Amy.  I’ve never been on one.  It won’t be a constant thing.  No more than a month at a time, I suppose.”
         “You promised never to leave me.”
         Gabriel sighed and sat up beside her.
         “Look.  No one’s leaving anybody.  I may have to travel some but I’ll always come home to you.  You know that.  I didn’t know we were going to make an album of our songs when this all started but now that we have I want to see what we can do with it.  Have a little faith in me, girl.  And us.  Like you said yourself, if we can’t get through the difficult times that life is bound to throw our way, how strong are we, really?  I believe with all my heart that we can ride this out together.  Me and you.  I’m convinced
deep down in my gut that we’ll make it through all this.  Just wait till you get to listen to the final mix of the album and you’ll hear the potential that’s just lying there in the grooves.”
         “I don’t want to hear it.”
         She began to sob.  He held her close.
         “Now, now.  What is all this?  I went nuts being separated from you.  I was lonely, too, you know.”
         She turned and looked him in the eyes.  “Were you?”
         “I can’t believe you’d ask me that.  Of course!  Who called you every night?  I was faithful as a monk.  Ask Josh if you don’t believe me.  I have no desire for any woman except you.  Look, the odds are that the record will sink into oblivion and Josh and I will end up being a couple of gray-headed, over-the-hill folk singers working at the pub into the next millennium.  We just want to see this thing through.  I meant it when I said I’d never leave you and I never will.  You’re in my heart no matter where I go.  We have our whole lives to spend together, baby, and someday we’ll look back on these days and laugh.”
         Amy said nothing.  He kissed her tenderly.
         “Just hold me.  All night,” she whispered.


(Note: The music of Josh & Gabe can be found on the album by the Davis-Anderson Project, "Two Old Friends," available on Amazon and Itunes.)
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