I feel I’m standing at the gates of success. If he breaks tomorrow, then I might still be in time. Then I might still be able to save the both of us. I touch my chest with my claws. I can still feel the horrible black fingers inside me as they shaped my soul, as they tied it to the life of a mortal. In the darkness before creation I didn’t even have eyes, yet I could feel the connection with someone who was just a promise. I was already alive when he was born; yet I took my first true breath alongside him. I cried when he cried.

I can feel the other form hidden deep down inside me; the form I would take if he sat on the Throne. I would be his counselor, his dog, his general, whatever he needed. I could defeat time and space, life and death, memories and dreams. By his side I could be everything. Now I’m nothing. Only a thought, a dream, a possibility. I shiver, my soaked fur quivers. I would like to sleep like humans do; I have never slept in my entire life, only made dreams for others.

I’m lying under his bed at dawn when he wakes up. The director of the Steelbird fan club found Csaba this apartment and let him use it for free for one night so he wouldn’t have to pay for accommodation. He washes his face in the tiny lavatory, then sets out to meet with Betti. He has a hard time finding his way around in the city. They meet in a cafe, the deafening shriek of the coffee machines interrupting their conversation from time to time. I don’t sit down, I’m walking back and forth around the tables like an excited dog. I strain my ears to detect even the slightest change of tone in their voices.

‘I don’t accept your offer,’ he says between two coughs, as coolly as he can.

Betti nods as if she had expected this, although her eyes are sad.

‘I see,’ she says. ‘We can find you something easier, office work or . . .’

Csaba raises his hand to hush the girl. She recognizes the gesture from the concerts. That was how Csaba used to silence the audience when he was about to play an acoustic song.

‘It’s not about the difficulty,’ Csaba explains. ‘It’s just that I don’t want anyone to order me around. No one telling me when I should get to work, what I should do, how I should do it. I don’t want anyone telling me anything. Not even for money. I’m a free spirit, you see.’

And at this point, as if he can see me, he glances at me. Of course he can’t. I determine when I’m there for his eyes and when I’m not; but he suspects I’m standing there. Maybe even hopes for it. I smile. That attitude! He has always been stubborn; he was raised that way. Always follow your dreams. Life has taught him that, I’ve taught him that, music has taught him that. It’s what he’s done his whole life.