'You guys are going to be massive stars,' said Speed, addressing the group. Paul kicked my foot under the table. He had this dream of being famous for something. Kind of weird for a total hermit, but I think he wanted people to admire him from a distance.
Me, Paul, Dad, Speed, Tony and the other four coolhunters were seated around a big dining table at Mash, a 'comfort food' restaurant selling stuff like mashed potatoes and grilled cheese on toast and charging the big bucks for it. Speed called it 'retro' but it just looked like dinner at Paul's place to me. The walls were bare brick and Jimi Hendrix was playing on a stereo out back.
'We have the most gobsmackingly incredible plans in place for total world domination. Web, mobile, print, TV, games, virtual worlds and media that haven't even been invented yet. And you guys are going to be the face of it.'
My dad snorted under his breath. He'd always taught me to be suss on people who made big promises. I elbowed him to shut him up. He was the only parent who had showed for lunch, so Paul and I already looked freaky enough without him snorting at our boss.
'Now, before I go on, I want everyone to give due props to our newest hunters on the site, Mac and Paul,' said Speed.
Luca, the South American dude who was into adventure sports, gave a couple of lame claps but when no one else joined in he let it go. I looked at Paul and my dad. The three of us were not like anybody else at the table. Maybe it was our eight-dollar haircuts (I think Paul actually cut his own) or Dad's dirty jeans, checked lumberjack shirt and out-of-control brows. Maybe it was something in our wide-eyed looks that said 'backwater hicks'. Whatever it was, I knew we didn't belong.
'That was great, guys,' said Speed, straight-faced. 'A really warm welcome.'
Michiko, the Japanese photographer chick from Paris, was playing with her fringe, not even listening. Her skateboard was on the table, lying between her knife and fork. Next to Michiko was Van (short for Vanessa), who described herself on the site as a tech expert and New York City rich kid. She had one headphone in and was staring right through us. I smiled but got nothing. Then there was Rash, the music- and movie-buff guy from Shanghai, China. His profile said he was scared of going outside. He sat there, hoodie on, slumped down, eyes lit by a hand-held games machine he was playing. Luca was the only one who'd lowered himself to speak to us so far.
Speed and Tony, the site's founders, were at the head of the table. Speed had big sunglasses shading his eyes and a black v-neck T-shirt with 'Prada' on it. Tony was older, wearing a suit. I'd never heard him speak much but he had power. It felt like he was the money guy.
'Anyway,' Speed said. 'Here are the rules of the game. We need you guys to find the coolest stuff in the city. Vlog it, blog it, photograph it, draw it, paint it, etch-a-sketch it. Whatever. So long as you're uncovering stuff that nobody knows is here and that everyone wants a piece of. We want the Next Big Thing. You need to upload a fresh find to the site every day, keep on delivering, keep the punters coming back for more. Any day you don't deliver something, you're gone. You'll be paid a hundred and fifty US a day for the five days you're here and, as always, we'll cover hotel and expenses.'
Paul and I gave each other five under the table. It'd take us, like, two million years to earn seven hundred and fifty bucks each in our old McJobs at Taste Sensation, a skanky burger joint on the main street of Kings.
'Coolhunting is not a job you keep forever,' Speed went on. 'You stay as long as the site subscribers like you, as long as they're logging on to your part of the site and looking to you for fresh stuff. Think of it as sudden death every day. I'd like all of you to be there on our next international hunt in Shanghai, Rash's hometown, in three months' time, but at least one of you won't be. We are getting in excess of a million hits a day and all of those people want your job. One of you is going home this week.'
Van straightened in her chair. Michiko looked like she was about to spit at Speed.
'I don't mind if you enjoy yourselves but we are deadly serious about the business of cool,' Speed went on. 'There are copycat sites cropping up all over the web and we need to know about trends happening on the street before Innovators even think of them. Got it?'
Everybody nodded.
'Good. This is your chance to prove yourselves. Go hard or go home,' Speed said, staring directly at me and Paul. 'Dig in.'
As the others started eating, I looked around the table. I was pretty sure that I must've read and dreamed more about this city than any of these dudes, even Van, who lived here.
'He's a bit of a goose,' Dad said in a low voice. I elbowed him again.
'They all think we're losers,' Paul whispered out of the side of his mouth.
'I don't care,' I said.
I actually did care, but there was no point talking about it. I'd already decided I was going to blow them out of the water with the stuff we found, no matter what it took to find it. By the end of the week we were gonna own New York. I was sure of it.