Ethan reclined in the passenger seat of the sleek black Porsche Panamera, his eyes scanning the passing city streets as he let out a satisfied breath. "This is a sick car, Bill," he said with a grin, turning to the driver.
Bill, who had been quiet for a while, let out a laugh, the sound low and easy. "Yeah, I'll bet you think so. But with the kind of money you're pulling in now, you could buy more than just this."
Ethan chuckled, leaning back in his seat as the engine purred beneath him. He had the kind of confidence only success could bring—money, fame, and everything else that came with it. But his mind wasn't entirely on the car. He turned his gaze back out the window, a contemplative look crossing his face.
Bill noticed the shift in Ethan's mood and raised an eyebrow. "Hey, man," he said, glancing over, "earlier, you said we should hold off on those investments. Why'd you change your mind?"
Ethan smiled, a little glint of mischief in his eyes. "Nah, I just needed two million from it all. There's something I want to get," he said, the words slow and deliberate, a sense of excitement building in his voice. He knew exactly what he had in mind.
Bill shook his head, but it wasn't out of frustration—it was amusement. "You're something else," he muttered, shaking off his disbelief.
Ethan picked up his phone, which had been on mute the entire time. He had been preoccupied with the money talk, but now he saw the missed calls. Rebecca, Jessica—his sister. And the messages from her were waiting for him.
He unlocked the phone and saw his sister's worried texts first. "Are you okay? The news shouldn't get to you."
He quickly typed back a response, his fingers flying over the screen. I'm fine. You should just focus on your classes, love you.
Before he could set the phone down, he noticed another missed call, this time from Rebecca. He hesitated for a moment before tapping the call button.
"Where are you?" Rebecca's voice came through the speaker, sharp with urgency. "I've been calling for ages."
Ethan sighed. "You know I went to a meeting, what's wrong?"
"Forget that," Rebecca snapped, not skipping a beat. "We need you to start heading to the airport. I've booked a flight for you."
"Why? What's going on?" Ethan asked, his brow furrowing, confusion creeping into his voice.
"We need you to come to where Eminem's staying," she replied quickly, her tone clipped. "We need to do a music video for 'River' now. The timing couldn't be better. It could really help us with the PR right now."
Ethan's mind raced, his attention split between the sudden turn of events and the excitement of his plans for the future. But he couldn't help but think about what was next. The world was moving fast, and he was being swept along with it—whether he liked it or not.
He leaned back in his seat, his thoughts a whirlwind of possibilities. He still had plenty to do, but for now, he was ready to see where this new chapter would take him.
After a few days
Ethan stepped out of a SUV, the night air cool against his skin. He glanced over at Bill and Rebecca, both following him closely. The atmosphere inside was buzzing with the kind of energy only something as monumental as a music video shoot with Eminem could generate.
There, standing in front of him, was Eminem himself. Ethan could feel the weight of the moment. The rapper's intense eyes scanned him for a moment before extending his hand.
"Yo, that video was sick, bro," Eminem said with a wide grin. "Seriously. You killed it out there. Don't worry about the tour—I'm sure it'll be a total hit."
Ethan shook his hand, trying to keep his cool, but his grin betrayed his excitement. "Thanks, man. Means a lot coming from you."
Eminem clapped him on the shoulder. "You've got it. Keep doing what you're doing would see you when you come for your tour man."
With that, Ethan watched as Eminem turned and disappeared back into the chaos of the set. Ethan couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. The video had been a success, but so much was still hanging in the balance. The media firestorm, the mixed fan reactions—it was still there, lurking in the background, but for now, he could focus on this win.
Later, as the three of them made their way to the airport, they boarded their first-class flight. Ethan sank into the plush seat, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. His thoughts drifted back to the last few days—standing in the rain, the chaos of the ticket price leak, and the ever-growing pressure.
But right now, in this moment, everything seemed to align. He couldn't help but smile to himself as he buckled in, a sense of calm overtaking him. The storm was far from over, but maybe he was ready to ride it out.
After a few moments of silence, Ethan turned to Rebecca, who was seated beside him, her eyes focused on her phone.
"How are the people reacting now?" Ethan asked, breaking the silence.
Rebecca put her phone down, looking at him with a measured expression. "It's still mixed," she said. "Some fans are with you, some are still upset, but just hang in there. We'll get through this. We always do."
Ethan leaned back in his seat, his gaze fixed on the window. The hum of the plane filled the cabin, and as he watched the city lights fade beneath them, he knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy—but with the right people by his side, he felt ready to take on whatever came next.