Baddy arrived ten minutes before the performance started, finished a brief dry rehearsal, and then headed to the waiting room.
Since he was the finale, the highlight of the show, he could just relax until it was time to go on stage.
“Is the water a bit lukewarm?”
Baddy picked up the water bottle and set it back down.
“Well, why are you just standing there?”
He asked the manager, who was just staring blankly.
“I said the water is lukewarm.”
“Ah, sorry. I’ll go buy fresh ones right away.”
Only then did the manager dash out of the waiting room.
“Ugh, so frustrating.”
Baddy clicked his tongue as he watched the manager leave.
Soon, he leaned his back against the spacious sofa and closed his eyes.
It was then.
A noise disturbed his peaceful rest.
“What the…”
Baddy frowned, lifting the hat he had pulled down low. The sound interrupting his precious break was quite grating.
Especially…
Because it was the voice that had been bothering him most lately.
“JS?”
Yes, the voice coming from the next room was definitely JS’s. Not only were his songs played everywhere on the streets lately, but it was impossible not to know him since they crossed paths at every performance.
JS was also on the guest lineup for today’s show…
The voice from the next room was undoubtedly JS.
“So noisy,” Baddy muttered, his brow furrowing deeply.
In fact, singers practicing in their waiting rooms was common, but the fact that it was JS made it annoying.
That damn JS, JS, JS.
Before he showed up, “Baddy” was the first name that came to mind when people thought of “Rappers.”
Lately, everywhere he went, all he heard was JS or his real name, “Jamal.”
It’ll just be for a moment.
He thought it was just a passing breeze.
However.
As if he had planned it, JS’s momentum was unstoppable.
At some point, he began climbing the Billboard charts at a terrifying pace…
And now, he walked around talking as if winning a Grammy Award was already a foregone conclusion.
That sight was incredibly irritating.
It made him grimace.
And gradually, it started to get on his nerves.
A mere rookie rapper winning an award at the Grammys, the most prestigious ceremony in the music industry?
It was laughable.
The one and only white rapper who had conquered the genre of “Rap,” which was considered the exclusive property of Black people.
An unparalleled, untouchable rapper.
That was me, Baddy.
He had released albums every year without rest, and naturally, he won awards every year. Yes, that was the natural order of things.
That was the real foregone conclusion.
If you think about it, JS didn’t even rise to fame through his own skills, did he?
Not only was he riding the coattails of a rising composer, but he had no pride as a rapper, praising the composer and even copying his stage name.
Right.
For such a fly-by-night rapper to even mention the Grammys.
He’d be lucky if he even got to step on the red carpet.
“Ah, shit.”
Unable to hold back any longer, Baddy stood up.
He stormed out of his waiting room and headed to the room next door.
“Godchis, Godchis…”
He snorted at the voice leaking out.
How childish. Godchis? Give me a break.
Meanwhile.
Among the many performances and festivals he had attended, Jamal thought this festival was by far the best place to make his name known.
[ World Electronic Music Festival ]
Also known as WEMF.
Held annually in Las Vegas, WEMF is currently the largest and most world-renowned electronic dance festival.
Not only can you enjoy electronic music like House, Techno, Drum and Bass, Dubstep, and EDM with DJs, but many people travel from far away because they can also enjoy performances by world-class singers.
Last year, 150,000 people attended.
He didn’t know how many would come this year, but it was the most optimal stage to spread the name ‘JS’ along with ‘G.H.S.’
That’s why.
He came to the waiting room earlier than anyone else.
Moreover, since HS might come to see him today, he had to put on an even more perfect performance.
Of course, it was uncertain if he would actually watch his performance.
Still, the fact that he contacted him asking for an invitation to the festival… Didn’t that mean he intended to see his stage?
Yes.
This must be a test.
“HS’s music is like a drug to me. If he hears my song, he’ll be in ecstasy.”
Jamal stood in front of the mirror and began practicing. Although he had performed the song countless times, he was strangely nervous.
“Ahem, hmph.”
He cleared his throat again and paced around the waiting room to check everything from his gestures to his blocking.
“Following behind HS, and before I know it, I’m on stage.”
He continued to practice, unaware that his clothes were becoming soaked with sweat.
As the performance time drew near, his heart pounded as if it were going to explode.
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
Just in case, he had instructed them to lead HS to the waiting room if he showed up, but he hadn’t appeared.
Well… it’s not like he was particularly expecting it.
In a way, it might be for the better. If he had shown up, he might have been too nervous to practice.
Yes.
Whether he watches the performance or not, he would do his best.
Because this stage would serve as a stepping stone to spread the name JS, as well as the great and noble name of Godchis, through his music.
He planned to pour everything into it.
“Godchis, Godchis, now consuming him and rising higher…”
While he was deeply immersed in practice.
Creak.
The waiting room door suddenly opened, and Jamal looked toward the door with an expectant face.
“What are you?”
However, the person poking their head through the gap in the door was someone completely unexpected, contrary to what he had hoped.
“What? ‘What are you’ to a person?”
No, it would be more accurate to describe him as an unwelcome person.
Baddy.
He was someone who could be considered a senior, strictly speaking.
However.
They had crossed paths before but had never spoken.
He was someone Jamal couldn’t exactly welcome warmly, as Baddy often posted things on his personal social media that seemed to target him.
What did he say in those posts again?
Something like, “If you were born in the shadows, live in the shadows”?
That someone trying to ride the coattails of another’s popularity isn’t a rapper.
That a rapper worshipping someone else is a disgrace in itself.
Not that it mattered.
Jamal wasn’t relaxed enough to react to such petty snipes.
That aside.
He didn’t expect Baddy to actually come looking for him in person…
“What are you doing here?” Jamal asked indifferently.
“I couldn’t rest because of the noise you’re making.”
With that, Baddy strolled in as if this were his own waiting room and sat on the sofa.
“By the way, shouldn’t you greet someone when they arrive?”
He asked, arrogantly tilting his chin up.
“Do I have to greet an uninvited guest?”
Jamal shot back immediately, as if bouncing the question off.
Baddy certainly hadn’t come here just to exchange greetings.
“Your manners are as bad as I heard.”
True to form, Baddy’s tone was full of hostility.
Jamal wanted to grab him by the hair and throw him out right now, but this was a performance waiting room.
If a commotion broke out here, people would come rushing in.
Now that he was active in the spotlight, not the shadows, he had to endure it.
Yes.
He would endure it, but he had to say what needed to be said, right?
“I heard your personality was bad.”
“What?”
“The rumors are all over this industry, that your personality is gutter-tier.”
It wasn’t a lie. It was a well-known fact even to the public.
Baddy had consistently acted in ways that matched his stage name, and there were always controversies regarding his power trips or violent language.
Being criticized by such a person was unbearable.
‘Not that I’m in any position to scold anyone.’
Since his own personality wasn’t exactly gentle either.
“You’ve got a foul mouth just because you’ve been doing well lately.”
“Don’t get intimidated by just this much.”
“Coming from the hood, your grit really is something else.”
Baddy chuckled as if he found Jamal amusing for a moment.
“Ah, no.”
As if something had occurred to him, he snapped his fingers and asked.
“Are you acting tough because you believe in Godchis?”
At those words, the muscles in Jamal’s jaw bulged with a grinding sound.
“No, but really, what is ‘Godchis’ anyway? It’s so childish. Is he some kind of god?”
Despite Jamal’s face darkening rapidly.
“Then why don’t you pray to Godchis to help you get a Grammy Award?”
Baddy’s mockery didn’t end.
“Who knows? Since he’s a god, he might make it happen.”
Jamal clenched his fists tight, and blue veins bulged over his solid knuckles.
He kept hypnotizing himself that he had to endure it.
But judging by his trembling, it wouldn’t last long.
“Are you done talking?”
Jamal asked in a low, somber voice.
“No, not yet.”
Baddy, perhaps not noticing Jamal’s state, continued with a cackle.
“But I guess there’s some kind of connection between Asians and Blacks?”
“What?”
“I mean, the way you both act arrogant after getting lucky with a little bit of fame is so similar.”
Jamal lowered his head.
“That composer also just got lucky thanks to the artists, didn’t he?”
Words poured out of Baddy’s mouth incessantly, like water leaking from a hole.
“From Sarah Stewart to Vincent and Daniel… with singers like that who couldn’t possibly fail, everyone puts him on a pedestal as if it happened because his songs were good.”
Jamal didn’t offer any particular response.
“And you’re just riding the popularity of a composer like that.”
The only thought in his head was how glad he was that HS wasn’t in the waiting room right now.
“Am I wrong?”
The sweat cooled, and his heart settled into a quiet calm.
Like the moment right before a storm strikes.
Eventually.
Jamal slowly raised his head and met Baddy’s eyes.
“I think those were enough for your last words.”
Only then did Baddy flinch and tremble. He looked like a herbivore in that moment, but Jamal had no intention of showing mercy.
Belittling him, mocking him for being Black.
He could endure all of that.
But belittling HS and looking down on him for being Asian…
That was something he absolutely could not tolerate.
Grip.
Jamal approached Baddy with his thick fists clenched.
“D-Don’t come any closer.”
Baddy stepped back, his face turning pale white.
Thud.
But after only a few steps, his back hit the door.
Whoosh.
With murderous eyes, Jamal raised his fist high.
“The reason you’re dying here today…”
His mind knew he shouldn’t, but he was already beyond the point of control.
“Is because you dared to insult Godchis.”
“What?”
“You should at least know your cause of death.”
“Gah!”
Just as Baddy cowered in fear.
BANG!
With a thunderous sound, the door suddenly burst open.
Creaaaak.
Baddy, pushed by the opening door, rolled helplessly across the floor.
Whether it was luck or not.
Jamal’s fist missed Baddy and slammed into the innocent door instead.
“Were you showing off your strength in here?”
The person who entered through the now-cracked door was…
“B-Big brother…!”
It was HS.
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