As the final note hung in the air, time seemed to stand still.
For a heartbeat, the world held its breath.
Then, like a sonic boom shattering the sound barrier, the crowd erupted. The yacht trembled with the force of their reaction, a tidal wave of sound and emotion crashing over everyone present.
"ROAR~~!!!"
"WOHOOO~"
"13! 13! 13!"
The chant started low, then swelled as more voices joined in.
Soon, the entire deck was a sea of pumping fists and ecstatic faces, all chanting in unison.
Brandon stood at the center of it all, his chest heaving slightly from the exertion of his performance. A wide grin spread across his face as he basked in the adoration of the crowd.
The girls in the audience went wild.
One blonde in a skimpy bikini pushed her way to the front, her eyes locked on Brandon like a predator eyeing its prey.
"Oh my god, he's even hotter up close!" she squealed, reaching out to touch his arm.
Another girl, a brunette with long legs, practically climbed over her friends to get closer.
"13, marry me!" she shouted, her voice barely audible over the continued chanting.
Near the back, a redhead fanned herself dramatically.
"I think I'm gonna faint," she declared to no one in particular, her eyes never leaving Brandon's form.
Even the supermodels from the car dealership were giddy. They huddled together, whispering and giggling like schoolgirls, stealing glances at Brandon every few seconds.
"Did you see the way he moved?" one asked, her voice breathy with admiration.
"Forget the moves, did you hear that voice?" another replied, clutching her heart. "I swear, I felt it in my soul!"
Another said blushing, "I felt it somewhere else~"
The chanting continued, growing louder with each repetition. "13! 13! 13!"
Brandon soaked it all in, his silver-grey hair glinting in the sunlight, his light grey eyes sparkling with triumph.
He'd dreamed of this moment for years, but the reality far surpassed his wildest imagination. As he stood there, basking in the adoration, his mind whirled with a mix of exhilaration and analysis.
'Holy shit,' Brandon thought, his heart pounding like a bass drum.
'I DID IT!!! I actually fucking did it.'
He fought to keep his composure, but inside, he was soaring.
'My first show… This feeling... it's everything I ever wanted and more.'
But even as he reveled in the moment, the producer in him couldn't help but dissect his performance.
'If even such a simple melody caught them off guard… '
He thought back to his past life, to all the stars he'd helped create.
'I made them shine, but now it's my turn. And I'm going to burn brighter than any of them ever did.'
Just then, Pierre's booming voice cut through the chaos. He bounded onto the stage, his chubby frame moving with surprising agility.
"Bitches and Bastards!" he bellowed, arms spread wide.
"What a performance! Let's hear it one more time for the man of the hour, 13!"
The crowd roared again, their enthusiasm undiminished.
Pierre basked in the energy, a wide grin splitting his face.
"Now, my beautiful people," he continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone that somehow carried across the deck.
He paused dramatically, building the suspense.
The audience leaned in, hanging on his every word.
"We've just received word from the captain," Pierre announced, his voice rising.
"We are officially... in open waters!"
A cheer went up, but Pierre wasn't done.
He raised his hands, calling for quiet.
"You know what that means, don't you?" he asked, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
The crowd murmured in anticipation.
Pierre took a deep breath, then bellowed with all his might,
"LET! THE! PARTY! BEGIN!"
The deck erupted into chaos.
The DJ, taking his cue, cranked up the volume. The beat pulsed through the air, vibrating the very deck beneath their feet.
As the music surged, a ripple of anticipation swept through the crowd.
Suddenly, a hush fell over the deck, the partygoers' eyes widened as they caught sight of what was emerging from below deck.
Muscular men in tiny speedos emerged first, their chiseled bodies glistening. They were followed by voluptuous women in skimpy bikinis, their curves and long hair swaying to the music. The crowd stared as these stunning figures ascended to the deck.
Both groups moved with practiced grace, each carrying a gleaming silver tray. As they spread out across the deck, the contents of those trays became apparent.
Bottles of top-shelf liquor clinked together, their labels hinting at astronomical price tags. Vodka, whiskey, champagne - every high-end spirit imaginable was represented.
Beside the bottles, neatly arranged piles of fragrant green herb caught the eye. The unmistakable scent of premium cannabis wafted through the air, mingling with the salty sea breeze.
But it was the third item that really got the crowd buzzing. Small mountains of fine white powder were artfully arranged on mirrored surfaces, catching the light and sparkling like fresh snow.
As the crowd's attention was drawn to the spectacle of beautiful bodies and illicit substances, Jong-kook's gaze remained fixed on Brandon. His sharp eyes tracked the silver-haired singer as he slipped off the stage, weaving through the distracted partygoers.
Jong-kook's lips curled into a predatory smile. He dipped a manicured finger into the pile of white powder on the tray nearest to him, bringing it to his nose with a quick, practiced motion.
SNIFFF
He threw his head back dramatically, running a hand through his fashionably styled black hair.
"Oh honey," Jong-kook purred, his voice a silky blend of honey and venom. His eyes gleamed with a predatory light as he watched Brandon.
"You can run, but you can't hide from daddy"
He licked his lips, savoring the hunt to come.
"That voice, that face, that raw talent," Jong-kook continued, gesticulating wildly. "It's simply criminal to let it go to waste."
He snapped his fingers, drawing the attention of a nearby model.
"Darling, be a dear and fetch me another drink. Daddy's got some hunting to do."
As the model scurried off, Jong-kook's gaze returned to where he'd last seen Brandon. His expression hardened, a glint of ruthless determination in his eyes.
"13 was it, my little superstar in the making," he declared, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper.
"You're going to be mine, whatever the cost. And honey, trust me when I say - I always get what I want."