Ten minutes before eleven, Axel flopped onto his couch, feet finding their place on the pillows stacked against the arm rest. His slightly damp hair clung to his forehead, but he enjoyed the sticky feel that reminded him of being on stage, the one place he always felt on top of the world. He'd purposelessly forgone drying and styling his hair since he didn't plan to leave the house despite plans to arrive at the studio at noon. He had something more important to deal with right now. Staring at his phone, he found the message that Harlan sent him earlier. The number there taunted him, seeming to beg for attention. With a quick swipe of his fingers, he dialed the number, dropping his head back to listen to it ring. Whoever this Fane guy was, he better be ready to take on a big name. Axel did not take no well.