Su Ming couldn't tell how long it had been since he had walked into such a small, dimly lit bar, in a place that looked like an urban village, with slogans of 'Love and Peace' plastered all over the streets, and the blood-colored fonts under the dim street lamps were clear, like the music coming out of the doors of every bar.In the Vietnam War, the United States sent 550,000 people, and in this world where anything can happen, the casualties were far greater than Su Ming knew in his previous life.From the beginning of the war, such a group of eccentric young people appeared in the country.They criticize the government's restrictions on the rights and interests of citizens, they resent the greed of large corporations, lament the narrowness of traditional morality, and oppose the inhumanity of war.But there was nothing they could do.They can only raise their cries in their peace movements, in their marches; It is only possible to carry flowers in their hair or to distribute flowers to passers-by, "putting flowers in the barrel of the gun"; They can only express their dissatisfaction with wandering rock music and sad music.Sociologists in general call them 'bohemians' more rigorously, and like gypsies, they live in a fixed place and yearn for a free life.However, ordinary people, including Su Ming, use the more common name for them, hippies.Overall, if they don't drink too much or 'hawt' too much, they're a fun bunch of people because they made rock 'n' roll.Today's Su Ming wears fashionable bell bottoms and a high-necked T-shirt, which makes the strangulation change into the popular Beetle hairstyle, leaning against the corner of the bar and drinking whiskey, watching the band perform on the small stage.The bar is small, the stage lighting is harsh, and the botched acoustics make customers feel as if they have been hit with a sledgehammer on their heads.The young female home was hoarse and screaming some lyrics about pain, the band behind her was far worse than the Beatles, and her songs, in Su Ming's eyes, were probably a kind of agricultural metal.But the hippies don't care, and in bars filled with the stench of 'leaves', they fanatically support everyone who walks on stage.It doesn't matter if it's human, as long as it's a creature that can make sounds, anyway, all kinds of different drug ingredients make their pupils deformed, and anything on the stage is just a cloud of colorful light and shadow.Seeing these young men and women begin to undress frantically, and the white miserable skin and flesh were crowded on the dance floor like a group of bugs, Su Ming shook his head and accosted the bartender who was also helplessly wiping his glass: "Who is singing?"
”As he spoke, a $10 bill slid over the bar.The bartender put away the tip and gestured with his chin in the direction of the stage: "She?
The lead singer of the band Lost Father, whose stage name is 'Wave Machine Gun', and the streets are full of posters of these bands, to be honest, I don't understand the names and music of you young people, I've been a bartender for 40 years, and the bar should be a jazz territory, piano, saxophone, you know. ”"Looks like you don't like hippies."
Su Ming pushed the empty cup and motioned for him to fill it up."
Yes, they do nothing, Beat Generation.It's not good for our country to party at night and sleep all day with the men and women we met the night before. ”The bartender took out a bottle from behind the bar and expertly poured the wine for the guests: "But I have no enmity with money, many of these hippies are rich and rich." ”"You're sober, and if you can't even eat, they won't come to pursue any freedom of thought."
Su Ming raised his glass and looked at his complexion through the glass: "But I really didn't expect a bartender to have such an understanding." ”The bartender smiled and continued to pick up the white towel: "The state is the guarantee of the existence of the rice bowl, I go out to work at night, and I endure these noises just to eat, even if Martin Luther King Jr. is assassinated, we blacks have to continue to live." ”"That's right, oh, she's gone, where do I go to meet her?
I don't want to squeeze through this pile of meat worms, they're going to squeeze my clothes off. ”Su Ming finished drinking the wine in the cup and pressed another dollar under the glass.The black bartender magically put away the bills and smiled and tilted his head in response to the joke: "Take the staff passage behind me, the backstage is actually the basement, and I wish you a nice tonight." ”"I will."
Su Ming turned around and stepped off the bar stool, and instead of looking at the new band on the stage, he turned over the bar and walked straight behind the bartender.In the mottled basement, there were no partition walls at all, bands that had finished their performances were packing their belongings, bands that hadn't yet made the stage were rehearsing quietly in their time, and people were walking through the bar's boilers and piled up vats.It's chaos.The band that had just stepped down from the stage broke out into an argument before they returned to the basement.The drummer accuses the bass player of being out of tune, and the bassist accuses the drummer of not having any sense of rhythm, and by the time they start to fight, the keyboardist has already packed up and quit the group, leaving the 'Wave Machine Gun' alone with his head covered and sitting on a barrel with his head down, clutching his guitar.She has short blonde hair, which is very conspicuous in this era of bohemian fashion, not to mention heavy eyeshadow and lipstick, which are all outfits that are ahead of the times.It's a pity that she plays heavy metal, and the audience doesn't care at all.Su Ming, who entered the backstage, found that someone had taken the lead, it was another woman wearing a black leather trench coat, she was very beautiful, with long black hair tied into a ponytail, looking very capable.She's apparently been waiting in the basement for the band Lost Father, and the target is the girl who is the lead singer."
Amanda Strong?"
The leather-clad woman walked up to the lead singer with a gentle smile on her face."
Yes."
The short-haired woman looked up with a look of lovelessness."
Good singing."
The leather-clad woman pulled down her neckline, and she was wearing a red corset underneath the tight leather jacket: "Very wonderful performance." ”Amanda shook her head, she didn't bother to bother with her teammates: "I broke two chords tonight, and that microphone always makes a fart noise when I speak, Fack." ”"Everybody's happy, don't dwell on the details."
The leather-clad woman patted Amanda on the shoulder and comforted, "Is Strong your real name?"
”"Armstrong's short name, thank you for the encouragement, I mean at least one other person who likes my music."
She squeezed out a wry smile, rock and roll is an attitude, and there is only one person in the audience who cares, which is really sad."
You're welcome, let's go, your teammates look hopeless, I'll ask you to go for a drink."
The woman in leather is obviously older than Amanda, she is full of the charm of a mature woman, and her smile is both gentle and charming.She looked around at this point, as if she wasn't quite happy with the environment, but she didn't see the death knell hiding in the shadows behind the boiler, eavesdropping on their conversation.Amanda shook her head and stood up and put her guitar on her shoulder: "No, thank you for your kindness, but I just want to go home and blow up my guitar right now, and then get a pound of 'leaves' and never wake up." ”The leather-clad woman smiled and put her arm around her shoulders and joked very familiarly, "X your own guitar?"
You should use this as the finale on stage. ”"Well, well, you're seductive, and you're a good girl, but," Amanda tried to break free from the leather's embrace without a trace, feeling uncomfortable under the bouncy of her body."
Thanks, but I'm not hooking up with you."
The leather-clad woman smiled and hugged her out, passing by the boiler: "I'll treat you to dinner, I can give you a record contract." ”Hearing the record, Amanda didn't struggle anymore, but she was still a little defensive: "You're from a record company?"
”"Nope."
The leather-clad woman was slender but powerful, and she pushed away all the crowds of people in her way with one hand."
So you're an agent?"
Amanda asked again."
No, not a broker."
The leather-clad girl smiled softly: "But I have a record contract, will you come?"
”"Let's go."
Thirty seconds later, Wilson's fast-food restaurant was open 24 hours a day across from the bar.The leather-clad woman ordered a burger, fried chicken, fries, a strong drink, and a lot of other things, and very generously invited Amanda to have a supper, and she first raised the burger and took a big bite, chewing it like a hamster."
So you write your own songs?"
Amanda didn't eat, but shrunk in the corner of the booth, holding her guitar in front of her, looking at each other wary."
Who are you to tell me first?
I don't know your name yet. ”If it weren't for the fact that this was a brightly lit public place, she would never have followed the leather-clad woman out.Fast food restaurants look the same at all times, the air is full of the smell of instant coffee and hamburgers, the lights are warm, the bright yellow tables and chairs are relatively clean, and the posters on the walls are pictures of Captain America holding up a variety of different foods and giving a thumbs up.Well, when Wilson's chain of fast food consumption reaches a certain amount, he also gives Captain America a soldier, and just now the waiter brought a German mustache when he delivered the food.Amanda already had one, and she preferred the one on her bike, but that would have to be when she could eat by herself, not with the mysterious man in black.The dark-haired woman shrugged, put down the burger she had taken a bite of, and thought for a second before giving an answer."
I'm Valentina Alendra di Fontaine, I'm from the Strategic Danger Intervention and Espionage Logistics Service, and to put it simply, I'm a state agent."
Amanda's hand holding the guitar tightened, and she looked at Valentina's face, her eyes full of distrust: "Can I see your ID?"
”Valentina's face was full of smiles, but her momentum instantly cooled the environment: "No, we are super agents, but we don't go everywhere with small pieces of paper that can prove our identity." ”"What does this have to do with me?"
Amanda frowned, and she began to rub outside the booth as if she was trying to escape."
Your father used to be my colleague, in a sense."
The female agent let her move, but lowered her head and continued to drink, covering her mouth.Amanda likes her father very much, otherwise the band's name would not be 'Dave', and she feels very uncomfortable when her father is mentioned by strangers."
What do you mean?"
Valentina picked up the burger and wiped the ketchup from the corner of her mouth with her little finger with black nail polish: "I joined the logistics office late, he died before I joined, Dave Armstrong, he's a good guy, I've heard that even the demonic death knell is blue eyes for him." ”"I thought he was a cop and died in a crossfire with a drug dealer" Amanda took a deep breath, she was still young at the time, but she always remembered her father's story very clearly, it was a man with big palms and always smiling.Every time he put his hand on top of her head, she would squint comfortably like a kitten.The female agent shook her head, she sighed: "No, he died in an attack of Hydra, do you know Hydra?"
Captain America should always know, right?
”"I know, but I really need to go."
Amanda hugged her guitar and stepped out of the booth: "Father means everything to me, and you're telling me now that he's been lying to me all along?"
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Things blow up for both of us. ”Seeing that she was leaving, Valentina pulled out a stack of papers from her underwear with her backhand and pressed it on the table: "Ten records, a world tour, a contract with Wilson Entertainment, tsk, that's a big company with hands and eyes, and it has resources in Hollywood, do you like movies?"
”Amanda froze like a robot, slowly sat back down, picked up the stack of papers and looked through them carefully.It all seems to be true, and even the other party's name has been signed, just waiting for her to sign it.Since it was the hard work of my father's former colleagues, then I would accept it.For a moment, all that was in their booth was the sound of Valentina eating and drinking, and the rustle of paper flipping, and the occasional shrill tune and frantic screams from the bar across the road.They didn't even notice that in the back-to-back booth next door, a young man with a Beatles haircut was eavesdropping.