Adrenaline

12 | catch me if you can

"Rami's family calls us all the time," I laugh. "They're always making sure we're doing okay. We all call his mom mama. And his sister sends us care packages."

    Her smile grows. "That's sweet."

We talk more about the dynamics of our band and I do my best to answer while not speaking for anyone else. Even though we're close enough that I can imagine what everyone else would say, I know we have our own ways of expressing how we feel, and I never want to step on anyone's toes by not doing them justice.

Before I know it, twenty minutes have passed and we haven't even started talking about the music.

"So, why Nuclear Fusion? What does the album mean to you?"

When the band first started discussing what the artistic theme of our debut album would be, it was clear we all wanted to make a statement.

I wanted the world to know we were stars meant to shine, and all of the energy it took for us to accomplish this is bottled up in the album. Seeing it go on to have enough success that our label was willing to put out a deluxe edition is proof that we accomplished our goal, and we're only going is up.

I put it a little more delicately when I answer the journalist's question. The public likes to view confident women who own their success as too big-headed for their own good. Not that I feel all that confident most of the time, but existing in the stratosphere of show business has made me realize how fickle it can be to navigate.

"And what do you hope to accomplish with your music and all of its success? What do you want your fans to take away from your songs and journey in the music industry?"

I have to think about it for a second, but it comes to me in steady flashes like the beacon of a lighthouse along the shore, me being the lonely ship floating along the water.

"I think, at the end of the day, I can repeat what our own lyrics mean to us a hundred times over, but it won't mean anything. I want anyone who listens to our music to be able to interpret it in whatever way connects with them. Because, while I might write music for myself, I release music for it to be enjoyed. And if one thing works for them, I love that. But what I want people to see when they watch us as people is that it doesn't matter where you come from, what you think of yourself, or what you think others think of you. We're all worthy of telling our stories and pursuing any dreams we aspire to turn into reality. Speaking for myself, I want to be the kind of wahine that, whether they are in Hawai'i or elsewhere in the world, my fellow kānaka maoli can be proud of. To be the role model I wish I had growing up."

...

Once we're back at the house, I feel more relaxed. Spending an entire day around a bunch of people while having to talk about myself is as exhausting as performing a show, so when I drop onto the couch and throw my legs over the back of the sofa, my hand dangling over the side like a rag doll tossed aside, none of my best friends bat an eyelash.

"Does anyone want to watch a movie? I would like to not talk for the next three hours, minimum."

Rami side-eyes me. "You do remember we have to do this again tomorrow, right?"

"Even more of a reason for me to not talk to anyone right now."

"We can finally cross off The Wolf of Wallstreet," Jun suggests. "I think it's actually three hours long."

I clap my hands together. "Perfect! Go get popcorn first since you ate all of it the other day."

He stares at me. "Are you serious?"