Chapter 3

	"Man, you, totally, are missing the point," Eddie was explaining
to Chris as they argued over music, again.  Chris, arms folded
over his chest, was beginning to get annoyed by the pizza/music
connoisseur.  Does this guy ever stop talking? he laughed
inwardly, not wanting to upset the amiable young man.  Chris
liked Eddie very much, and aside from the fact that he was always
doing wayyyy too much pot, the guy was actually really bright,
just not too quick on the uptake.
	"Eddie, I'm gonna say this for the last time... I recognize
Depeche Mode's influence on industrial music, just as I realize
Kraftwork paved the way for both industrial and rap, but it's
Puppy that changed the face of the genre, man.  They had more of
an affect on more bands, and brought a totally new level to the
game.  Even Ministry, who paved the way for both
electro-industrial, with "Twitch", and electro-crossover, with
"Land of Rape and Honey" and "The Mind is a Terrible Thing to
Taste", didn't have the influence Skinny Puppy did.  Name a band
Puppy didn't influence in some way?  Shit man, they even
influenced Pop music, and nowadays, new rock artists are
'exploring' music, they pick up a Puppy album and go 'Wow, this
is over a decade old but you'd think it was made yesterday.  Hope
nobody notices I took some of their beats and sampled some of
their sequences.'"
	"That's not what I meant, dude.  You know I worship Puppy, I'm
just saying that Mode was in there long before... and Puppy loved
Mode," Eddie was following Chris around the counter towards the
till, carrying on even still, when a figure rushed by them both
at a rapid pace.
	"Is it just me," Chris stated in mild tones, "or did a short,
hot, chick just walk by us and into the back room?"
	"No, man, it ain't just you," Eddie said as if nothing was amiss
at all, "I saw the short, hot, chick too.  Maybe she thinks the
bathrooms are back there or something?"
	"Yeah, maybe," Chris wondered as he stared after the young
woman, whose passing had swung the back doors which were just now
coming to a stop.  Scratching his goatee, and crumpling his
eyebrows, Chris simply shrugged, and went back to his register.
	"Yo, Chris, man.  Can you, like, make me a tape of that
'Wump'-something band?  That is hard-edged music, dude.  Put some
of that Psychopomps and Klute on it too!  They are totally
fucked-up," he giggled.  Chris just laughed,
	"Sure, man, 'music is the glue of the world' right?"
	"Hey, that's what I always say, man!!!," Eddie looked at him
nodding his head in agreement.
	"I know, Eddie, you're the one who told me that, you know?  On
the first day I started here," Chris replied in dazed amusement
(this guy kills me...).
	"Oh yeah, heh...  I remember that."
	When Lisa walked into the back room, she was greeted by a vast
assortment of sights, smells and sounds.  She saw the beautiful
blonde girl at a table talking with the hot skater, and a pretty
girl with very short, dark hair.  She couldn't make out what they
were saying because a stereo was blasting to her immediate right
(the table the three were sitting at was on the far left of the
room) next to an open office door.  Standing beside the radio was
a young guy, maybe fifteen-sixteen years old having a heated
argument with a tall, thin, young man with jet-black hair.  That
must be Lucas, she thought to herself as she remembered the
description given to her by the woman, Jane, who'd asked her over
the phone to come in for a job interview.  She was right about
him, that's for sure, Lisa thought.  The man was tall, rather
thin, and was very attractive in an "artsy" kind of way.  He was
wearing a simple black T-shirt, black jeans, and black hiking
boots.  Around his neck was the same tag all the employees wore
to distinguish them as such, plus a thin silver chain.  He had a
very strange, almost "mystical" presence about him, and
throughout the course of the argument with the youth, whom she
could see by the tag was named "Warren", Lucas (she could see his
name on the tag he wore now, also) never once changed his facial
expression.   He looked kinda like a man wondering if the pattern
of the universe was numbered or destined by fate... weird.
	Well, Lisa thought, I gotta get this over with now.  She cleared
her throat, as none of the five seemed to have noticed her
entrance... and still didn't.  Again, she cleared her throat,
louder this time, and with much less patience, built of anxiety
and mild annoyance.  Again, nothing.  She looked down at the
floor, shook her dark hair in growing anger, and was just about
to say something, when all of a sudden the radio stopped and the
pounding sound of silence seemed the only occupant of the room
other than herself.  Almost afraid to look up (God I feel stupid
now...), Lisa shuffled her feet and tried to pretend she was
attending to her boots when a voice finally broke the silence,
	"Lisa Parolinat... I assume?"  The voice HAD to have come from
the strange guy, Lucas.  She finally looked up - attempting to
fake disinterest (and failing miserably).  All five were now
looking at her with careful stares... reading her, she thought. 
What a great first impression, Lisa condemned herself.
	"Uh, yeah, That's me... Hi," she said, moving to shake Lucas'
outstretched hand.  The grip was firm, but gentle too... like
somebody who was trying to reassure her.  Her spirits lifted, and
she smiled.  Looking around the room, the blonde, the hot skater,
and Warren were all smiling, while to dark haired girl with her
big, black boots up on the table just kept looking at her as if
under a microscope.
	"My name is Lucas.  And on behalf of the Empire Records staff,
I'd like to welcome you," he said, still with the same
expression.  He stepped into the middle of the room and sat down
on a large, comfortable-looking couch.  He continued, "The two
people you passed on your way in..." he started to explain, but
Lisa quickly piped up before he could finish.
	"I... I came straight to the back, 'cause that's what Jane told
me to do," she explained rather defensively.
	"I know," Lucas smiled warmly, "you didn't do anything wrong. 
So, I shall continue.  The tall African-American young man is
named Chris.  He's rather new here too, so you might want to talk
with him about how it's been working here for him so far.  Don't
worry, he isn't half as intimidating once you speak to him...
it's that whole 'Generation X Angst' thing," Lucas mused, "he'll
grow out of it soon," at that remark, the short-haired girl shot
Lucas a look with an upturned eyebrow and a smile which Lucas
ignored, continuing his introductions.  "The other young fellow
there is Eddie.  Now, Eddie technically works part-time here, but
he also works at the pizza place across the street.  So you can
use him as a counterpoint to our generation having no work ethic
should you ever find yourself in such a discussion," Lisa almost
giggled at the last comment.  She could smell the pot off Eddie
when she walked by him.  Lucas stood up and began to circle the
	"This delightful young woman's name is Debra," he said when he
reached the short-haired girl (Debra... remember... Debra), "Now
don't let her rough n' tough exterior fool you, inside Deb is a
deeply caring and wonderful person..." his introduction was met
by a smack to the head, "who has some aggression issues she needs
to deal with," Lucas finished as if nothing had happened.
	"Heyyah," Deb nodded at her, "nice to have you aboard.  Maybe
you can make up for Lucas' shortcomings... nice boots by the
way.  'Docs'?" she smiled at Lisa, who was feeling much more
comfortable now that the dark haired, enigmatic girl didn't seem
nearly as uncaring as before.
	"Thanks... uh, yeah... they are.  About the only thing I got of
any value," she smiled at Deb who returned it with an even bigger
grin.  Lucas, brows furrowed at Deb's earlier comment towards
him, interjected,
	"That is never the case my friend.  The Item of greatest value
on you is yourself... not the clothes you wear.  You have to seek
inner peace, Lisa," again Lucas went on as if this was the most
normal conversation in the world.  He came up behind Mark, and
Lisa perked up visibly.  Putting his hands on both of the young
skater's shoulders, he began speaking again, "this wild young man
is Mark," he started, again interrupted before he could continue.
	"Heyyyyy... hmmmm... huh.. hehh... huhh.  Nice to meet you,
Lisa.  Don't worry, you'll feel right at home here... well, we're
all kinda strange, but that just adds to the stew, dude.  By the
way," Mark looked at her with the bluest eyes Lisa had ever seen
(Mark... his name is Mark, oh God... I'm so in love), "do you
play any instruments?"
	"You... you mean, like, guitar, or the drums or anything?" she
managed to stammer (God, he's so beautiful. Oh, his eyes... oh,
man!!!  He's soooo nice, oh man, I don't stand a chance). 
Attempting a smile that ended up looking more like a plea for
help, Lisa answered, "Well, not really.  I took the clarinet in
band for the year I went to high school, bu... but I wasn't any
good at it."  Now looking down at her feet and feeling like a
bug, Lisa shifted her bag further up her shoulder for better
comfort (stupid buckle is diggin' into my shoulder blade).
	"Lisa, if your rather shamed-looking response is due to the fact
you never finished school, you needn't chastise yourself," Lucas
reprimanded her, "we all have our problems; we all do what is a
necessity."  Lucas put his hand on Mark's shoulder as he passed
him and moved towards Lisa.  "Lisa, put your bag down here for
now and relax, you're safe here; you'll do fine," he whispered to
her so as to keep her dignity by not allowing the others to
hear.  She smiled up at him (boy, is he tall) and shuffled over
near the radio and plopped her sack down.  Rubbing her shoulder
as circulation returned to it, she moved back in front of the
doors, nearer the couch this time, to continue her introduction. 
God, I never realized how Goddamn heavy that fucking bag is...
	Lucas had moved back to the table and was holding the beautiful
blonde girl by the hand.  He guided her out of her seat, she was
smiling all the way, and kissed her hand gently.  With a grin,
Lucas turned to Lisa and voiced himself again, "this enchantress,
when not enticing the young male customers, goes by the name of
Gina," he received a shot in the ribs for his comment, along with
a sly, playful smile from unearthly, pouty, red lips.
	"You can ignore Lucas' brain damage, Lisa," she said as she
walked over to give Lisa a warm hug.  Lisa felt very comfortable
in the girls arms (nobody ever holds me... I miss that feeling)
and had to stop herself from sinking too deep into the quick
embrace.  "Welcome to Empire Records, Lisa, I AM Gina, I'm NO
enchantress, and I'm glad to meet you," she remarked politely,
smiling and taking a seat on the couch.  Still a wee fluttered,
Lisa, just nodded and smiled,
	"Thanks.  Thank you very much," she said, her eyes beginning to
glimmer with held back tears, "it's been a while since anybody
touched me who didn't want something from me," she announced to
explain the welling of tears in her very bright, brown eyes.  Deb
looked down, remembering things she didn't want too, and began
fiddling with her boots... try and get those memories away.  Gina
looked at Lisa with compassion and understanding; Mark with
sorrow and caring; Lucas with understanding and strength; Warren,
the remaining member of the group - in anger and disgust at the
thought of this lovely young woman being in ANY bad situation. 
Noticing the pall around the room, Lucas (Thanks a lot, Joe)
swiftly leapt towards Warren and put his arm around the teen.
	"Lisa, this raging ball of fire and hormones is Randal," he
	"Warren," the boy interrupted with a glance up at Lucas.
	"I thought you wanted us to stop calling you Warren?" Lucas
inquired as to the lad's change of heart.
	"Yeah, well, why bother?  Nobody ever does... except Chris, and
Joe when he's really pissed," Warren said out loud to himself,
"anyway, I like the name.  I got it here and here is where my
life changed," the youth mused, smiling at Lucas, Gina, Debra,
and Mark.  Then he looked at Lisa, hopped off the table he was
swinging his legs from, and approached Lisa.  "Don't worry, Lisa,
if I can fit in here anyone can," he smiled reassuringly at her,
"It's great ta have yah here."
	"Thanks," Lisa stated in plain tones.  Now she was confused. 
She looked at Lucas, head tilted, letting her cute,
shoulder-length, straight brown hair fall over her eyes.  She
brushed the hair, shiny in the room's light, from her eyes and
asked Lucas, "I... I don't really get what's going on.  Shouldn't
I have an interview BEFORE I meet the rest of the staff," her
wall was coming back up, she wasn't going to let them get the
best of her!  "'Cause it would be kinda cruel to go through all
this and then not hire me," she stated in a tone of anger tinged
with hurt and fear.
	"Lisa, this WAS your interview," Lucas smiled at her gently,
"and you passed better than I'd ever imagine anyone would." 
Lisa's hands found her pockets.
	"You mean, I got the job?" she quivered with excitement and joy.
	"Of course," Lucas remarked, as if it were common knowledge,
"the greatest test of an employee is how they can interact with
people," the young sage explained, "you have these skills in high
quality and quantity; you've just demonstrated that.  Now all we
have to do is teach you the necessary skills to work here -
that's the easiest part.  Now do you understand?"  Lucas asked in
a calm, dignified voice.  His eyes staring at Lisa as if burning
a hole through her and looking straight into her soul.
	"I guess so," she started, "but what... what about my record? 
Didn't Jane tell you.."
	"What about it?  Would you like to see my record?  It's longer
than yours and matters not at all.  Joe, who you'll meet tomorrow
morning, believed in me... in all of us... and we believe in
you.  Rather karmic, isn't it?"  He smiled at her.
	"I just have one question," Lisa, tears of happiness running
freely down her cheeks, asked the group," Which one of you
painted those beautiful portraits outside?"
	"Shit!" a voice proclaimed too loudly from behind one of the
many canvases in the large art room.
	"Is there a problem, AJ?" asked a rather loud, but amiable voice
from afar.
	"Uhh.. no.  I just didn't get the right mix again," AJ replied,
stymied once more by the paints on his pallet.  He'd been in the
class for over twenty minutes and was still trying to get the
correct mix of red and browns to mix.  Wiping the sweat from his
brow (Damn, it's too hot in here), he went back to his mixing
with even more vigor and resolve.  Peering around the edge of his
canvas came the face of his teacher and friend, Professor Ross. 
The long, scraggly beard and beak of a nose that poked out over
his grey moustache, both aimed at AJ like an MX missile.  The
Prof. grinned, and the many wrinkles around his blue eyes and
bushy eyebrows reminded AJ very much of a character out of a
Tolkeen novel.
	"Well, let us finish the debate on 'the great ka-ka' and see
what's wrong here," the eccentric man spoke.  He came alongside
AJ, bumping the student's canvas next to him, "So sorry, Laurie
my dear, not as coordinated as I used to be," he smiled, ignoring
Laurie's annoyed face.  Finally in place, he started at the
painting intently, then the pallet of oils.  "There," he pointed
to a swish of brown and red in the upper-right corner of the
canvas.  "Take some thinner, mix it with that spot a tad, just a
tad, now boy," he looked at AJ sternly, "then add the color to
the lavender, midnight black, and the mix you've already got. 
Not too much of the side dishes, mind you... you have the main
course already.  Just needs some fixin's, pardon the expression,"
he laughed heartily.  AJ just smiled, did what he was told, and
looked at the old man in wonder.
	"That's it!  That's exactly what I was looking for," exclaimed
the young artist.
	"Course it was, boy," the man huffed, beard bristling, brows
furrowing, "Any fool could spot what you were trying for... and I
just happen to be the biggest fool in the room," he laughed
again.  AJ really liked Professor Ross, he wasn't stuck up and
dead serious like many of his other "teachers".  He thought of
him as an older, wiser Lucas in many ways.  The thought of Lucas
brought a smile to his face... I think I'll give him a call
tonight, AJ mused as he watched the Prof. slap a young man on the
	"Good work, lad!  There may be an artist in you yet, Steven,"
exclaimed the old coot.
	"My name isn't Stephen, Professor, 'Stef-Fawn', not 'Steven'" the
irritated, and rather elitist, man shot back.
	"Really?  You don't say... I could have sworn it was 'Steven'. 
Well, my boy, age has a way of diminishing the memory.  Sorry
about that, lad.  I would never hope to hurt your highly
developed sense of articulation and pretension," the Prof. mocked
him, "Won't happen again, Steven!"  He yelled back, waving his
hand, as he continued down the row.
	God, I love this class, AJ laughed aloud.
The dying light filtered in through the shades of the large
studio window.  The upcoming dusk was just one of the beautiful
things Joe would be watching tonight.  Staring, still, through
the window, Joe, wondered how Lucas did with Lisa.  He smiled to
himself, remembering the angry young thirteen-year-old kid he'd
taken in seven years ago.  Why do I do it?  Joe pondered his
ability, indeed, it seemed a calling, of turning troubled teens
into good workers and friends.  Most of them just needed someone
to trust them and take a chance on them; some self-esteem and the
knowledge that they could make a difference in their lives.  He
sipped the Budweiser in his hand, a loud hiss escaped as he
brought it back down from his mouth.  God, he thought. The
sunset's beautiful, even in the city.
	Joe, finally done being enraptured by the beauty of nature, put
his beer down on his living room coffee table, and took off his
leather jacket.  Tonight he had plans to be enraptured by another
of God's most beautiful creations.  Throwing his jacket at the
coat rack by his apartment's front door, he sat down on his
large, leather couch.  He loved this couch, black and shiny, but
fading in places. Joe didn't care, just added more character to
it.  Speaking of character, he thought, as Jane walked into the
room, from the kitchen.  She'd made them both some cheese and
crackers.  Four or five types of each, olives, some celery
sticks, and slices of dill pickle.  Joe'd offered to whip them up
something, but Jane said she just wanted a snack, smiled, and
bolted to the kitchen. Under her left arm has a bottle of
champaign, two glasses in her hand, while she balanced the snack
plate on her right.  Seeing the impressed look on Joe's, face,
Jane laughed,
	"Being a waitress through college to make ends meet has its
subtle advantages," she smiled.  Putting the plate down in front
of Joe, she proceeded to poor the champaign into the two long,
thin glasses.  When the bubbles receded, she sat down next to Joe
on the couch with her glass, gave him his, and snuggled up next
to him.  Joe, enticed by the entire performance, put his arm
around his love and stared into her incredible, light-blue,
bird-like eyes.  They kissed softly, clinked their glasses
together, and sipped the sweet liquid.  Jane, nuzzled up to Joe,
a purring cat, and he could smell the sweet, fruity shampoo she
used in her hair, offset by the mild perfume she always wore. 
Always just enough, never overpowering, Joe marveled at her
grooming techniques.  They simply sat together, listening to some
light jazz on the stereo, for what seemed like forever, yet not
long enough, both at the same time.
	"You think Lisa will work out," Joe asked softly as he kissed
Jane's hair.
	"Her Juvi record's minor," Jane piped up, smiling, "Lucas' was
worse," she giggled.
	"Don't remind me.  I have the city's best pick-pocket turned
Taoist monk working as my night manager," Jane laughed at the
remark, but Joe continued, "does this qualify me for saint or
stupid?"  He put his glass down and ran his fingers through
Jane's deep, auburn hair.
	"I think somewhere in between," she chided, looking up at him
and kissing his nose.  She went back to her comfortable cat-like
position, and continued, "Joe, when I first met you, you were a
person under EXTREME stress," Joe smiled as she continued her
speech, "most people would've given up on Lucas; turned him in."
	"Don't think I wasn't tempted all day long," he smiled, wryly.
	"That's just my point," Jane replied, this time raising her head
and looking Joe in the eyes, "you loved Lucas enough to try
absolutely anything to get both of you out of the mess and even
when he was ready to quit you still didn't want to turn him in. 
When AJ and Corey went away it ripped your heart out, I know,"
Joe looked down at the floor, remembering that rather painful
day.  Jane saw the shift and kissed his cheek gently.  She
stretched out her leg, and brought it in a circle on the other
side of her lover, sitting now in his lap.  Lifting his chin with
her finger, she brought his eyes up to hers.  Jane kissed him
again, softly on the lips, then continued with her inspirational
talk, "I saw you worry, daily, about Debra, about Corey's
substance abuse, about Gina, Mark, Eddie, Berko," she smiled
again, "even Randal proved you could turn a kid around.  He's
probably the store's biggest, little protector and his temper
dropped by about a million degrees."  Joe sighed, smiled up at
Jane, and began,
	"Only I would hire a guy who first shoplifted from me, then shot
at me and my staff," he smiled.
	"They WERE just blanks.  Speaking of which," Jane purred into
his ear, kissing his neck, "I hope you aren't feeling like
shooting any tonight."  Joe laughed, deep and rough,
	"I hope not... I've been waiting for tonight forever.  We just
don't get enough time together." He mused, lifting her shirt
slightly and kissing her soft stomach.  Jane closed her eyes,
head back, she spoke just the words Joe needed to hear,
	"We'll make up for it tonight, Joe."
	Lucas plopped down onto his couch, exhausted by another day's
work and fun.  He almost fell asleep right there when the phone
rang.  Half stumbling; half walking to reach the phone, he picked
up, "Uh... yeah?" he muttered, half asleep.
	"Lucas... it's me, man."
	"AJ?"  Lucas bolted straight up, awake instantly, "how are you,
AJ?  It's been weeks.  Is the strain of the 'artists' curse'
getting to you?"  Laughing, was the answer he got from his best
	"Man, I miss you," AJ stumbled over the words, a lump growing in
his throat, "I miss everyone.  How's Joe?  How about Deb, is she
getting outta that depression she's been in?  And Gina and Mark
and Warren?  I wish I could afford to come by and visit you
guys... things are... strange... here."  AJ coughed, attempting
to fight back at the lump.
	"Strange?  How so?" Lucas asked with growing concern for his
forlorn brother, "Is it trouble between you and Corey?"
	"No, that's about the only thing going right.  Too right if you
get my meaning," AJ stated.
	"The calm before the storm... it always seems to sneak up on
you, my friend.  But the two of you are soul-linked, AJ.  Love
and trust play a big part in your lives; honesty will have to be
sought if not freely given, usually out of fear," the sage-like
advise was music to AJ's ears.
	"You sound like a horoscope, man," AJ chuckled.
	"No, they're usually wrong," Lucas volleyed back.
	"Anyhow," AJ started, changing the subject, "what about everyone
else?  How's the store?"
	"Interesting you should ask," Lucas replied, holding the phone
between his neck and shoulder while he took off his boots. 
"Everyone is well.  Debra is getting over you slowly... she's
found someone I think who suits her even better."
	"Good... I love Deb, Lucas.  It killed me leaving her behind; it
killed me telling her how I felt about Corey... probably one of
the reasons Deb always gave her a hard time," AJ pondered,
remembering the hardest day of his life... the day Debra told him
how she felt about him.  They worked it out of course, became
best friends; she even dated Berko for awhile until that hit a
wall.  Then she tried suicide, which scared the shit outta AJ. 
When he confronted Corey about his feelings, and she told him no,
and about Rex, he laughed at the bitter irony.  Karma, Lucas
would say.  There was even an instant AJ was tempted to give up
on Corey and try with Debra, but things got even stranger that
day, and the feeling passed quickly.  But AJ still loved her; she
is his closest friend with Lucas and Corey.
	"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Lucas interrupted AJ's
reflecting, "you needn't be, AJ, she's doing really well.  I
think Berko leaving helped a little, but I think Chris helped
even more."
	"Chris?  New?  What's he like... kind I hope," AJ never stopped
worrying about his quasi-foster sister.
	"Very," Lucas began, "in fact, he's never raised his voice to
any of us in the three weeks he's been here.  Quite a remarkable
young man... into industrial music, tall, black, and handsome...
well, 'intimidating' might be a better word, but he has the heart
of a child.  You just have to look past his outer defense of
trying to look as mean as he can while trying desperately to fit
in.  Quite the conundrum he's got himself into."
	"Industrial?  Kind of aggressive for a nice, polite guy, huh?"
AJ thought aloud.
	"I think it's an outlet for him.  Channeling any negative
emotions through the music, instead of using it to intensify them
as so many do.  You'd like him, he's quite artistic too."
	"He sounds cool... Deb could use someone decent and kind who
listens to the same music as her.  I'll see him when I visit as
soon as I can," AJ's doubts were beginning to lift.
	"Of course, neither knows one likes the other, but that's how it
always seems to go," Lucas replied bluntly.
	"Uh huh... and Gina," AJ was smiling on the other side of the
phone, "Has Warren gone into cardiac arrest yet?"
	"Several times I believe," Lucas stated, knowing where this bit
of conversation was going, "but he's strong in constitution;
he'll make it."
	"You know damn well what I'm getting at, man," AJ chuckled,
"have you told her?"
	"I'm waiting for the perfect moment, alright?"  Lucas retorted. 
AJ was the only person who knew Lucas' one weak point: Gina.
	"Why don't you just tell her, Lucas?  She probably feels the
same way.  I've seen how she looks at you.  I'll bet half the
guys she went out with were an attempt to get your attention," AJ
consoled his friend.
	"I fear that your 'star-crossed' love with Corey is the only one
coming out of that store," Lucas brooded, "I don't want to throw
a wrench in the engine while it's running."
	AJ sighed on the other side of the phone, "I better get going,
they raised the rates on long distance calls here," AJ lamented,
"and I just don't have the money."
	"Well, Damn the Man," Lucas stated.  Again AJ laughed; Lucas
asked, "what time is it anyway?"  The sound of ruffling came
through the headpiece of the phone as AJ scrambled to find a
	"It's... 1:37," AJ stammered.
	"That's an excellent time." Lucas replied
************************ end chapter 3 ************************

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