The flashing pink and gold invitation had landed on seventeen-year-old Mira’s screen with a soft chime: . Below the neon cursive, a counter ticked down the seconds until midnight. Mira’s heart stuttered. She’d never been to a Volume party. Her friend Lina, whose family ran half the city’s nightlife, had finally pulled strings.
“What’s in that?” Mira asked.
Lina laughed. “You can’t be done. We’re the content.”
“I think I’m done,” Mira said.
Mira asked the question gnawing at her: “Why 203? What happened to the first 202?”
“You’re new,” he said, appearing beside her. Up close, his eyes were tired. “Vol. 1 was twelve people in my basement. Now brands pay to have their logos projected on your shadows.”