Rewind With A Superstar System-Chapter 59: Meeting Julian

<🎧 Song Recommendation: Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift>

The text sat there like a for bear trap for Von. It didn’t make sense for Julian to b contacting him from a burner number. And why a midnight meeting at a lighthouse, it sounded like the setup for an ambush.

His first instinct was suspicion. Julian had been normal during their last few interactions. The rivalry between them was respectful on the surface, but Von knew better than to trust anyone fully in this competition.

For all he knew, this could be a trap laid by someone pretending to be Julian.

"This doesn’t feel right," Von muttered to himself before typing a reply.

[How do I know this is you? Prove it.]

The three dots of a typing indicator appeared almost instantly.

[We met at the mall before auditions. You were buying clothes, and I helped you with my family card. Also, I can’t use my main phone. My dad’s security team tracks it. Just come, please]

Von read the message twice. The detail about the mall was truly something no one else would know, but the second part made him wonder what Julian’s situation really was with his family.

Von glanced over at Zack, who was fast asleep, snoring softly with a law textbook open on his chest. It felt wrong to wake him up after their day out, but Von wasn’t stupid enough to go into a sketchy situation completely off the grid.

He grabbed a sticky note and a pen from his desk.

Went to meet Julian at Key Biscayne Lighthouse.

He stuck the note on Zack’s forehead where it was guaranteed to be seen the moment he woke up and grabbed his jacket.

***

The drive to Key Biscayne was quiet, the Miami skyline fading into the rearview mirror as Von took an Uber to the edge of the park.

The lighthouse stood tall against the moonlit sky, the ocean crashing rhythmically against the rocks below. It was a desolate spot at this hour, perfect for secrets.

Von walked up the path cautiously with his hands in his pockets. He scanned the area. Parked near the base of the lighthouse was a sleek, black sports car with tinted windows that made it impossible to see within.

Von stopped about twenty feet away, keeping his distance. "Julian?"

The driver’s side window slid down and a familiar face leaned out. Julian West looked different without the stage makeup and the carefully styled hair. He looked tired, his eyes sharper and colder than usual.

"You actually came," Julian said with a smirk playing on his lips. "Get in."

Von hesitated, then walked closer. As he approached the window, the smell hit him immediately.

Julian was holding a cigarette between his fingers, smoke curling up into the night air.

"What’s up, man?" Von started to say, reaching out for a handshake, but stopped mid-motion as his eyes locked on the glowing ember. "Wait... you smoke?"

Julian chuckled in an unusual tone. "Of course... It’s the only way to survive the circus." He extended the pack toward the window. "Want one? These are imported. Not the cheap stuff."

"No thanks," Von refused. Smoking was something he’d never considered and wasn’t ready to try out either.. "I like my lungs functional. Why the secrecy, Julian? Why the burner phone?"

"Because," Julian sighed, taking a long drag and exhaling a cloud of gray smoke. "If I used my real phone, my dad’s assistant would be here in five minutes with a security detail. They have me on lockdown at the Four Seasons. I can’t reveal details, but I need to breathe."

He looked at Von with a mix of amusement and envy. "I figured you were the only one who wouldn’t rat me out. You’re too focused on winning to care about gossip."

Von stared at him. For the first time, he was seeing the cracks in the porcelain doll. And strangely, Von preferred this version. He always had this feeling Julian was just feigning all along, and this single act of his just revealed that fact.

He wondered if it had to do with his S rated [Charm], it was the only explanation as to how he could fall this deeply into his act.

"So you called me here to watch you rebel?" Von asked, crossing his arms.

"I called you here because I’m bored," Julian corrected. "And because I assume you’ve been having a thrilling week. How’s life on the outside?"

"Actually," Von said, relaxing a fraction. "It’s been good. I turned nineteen today. Just got back from celebrating with my sister and it was... nice."

Julian froze mid-puff. He looked at Von, blinked, and then crushed the cigarette into the car’s ashtray.

"Nineteen?" Julian repeated with a grin spreading across his face. "Today? And you’re standing in a parking lot talking to me? That is tragic, Von."

Julian unlocked the passenger door. "Get in."

"Where are we going?" Von asked without moving.

"We are going to celebrate like real men," Julian said, revving the engine. "My treat. There’s a party I’m supposed to avoid, but since it’s your birthday... we’re going. Unless you’re scared?"

Von looked at the car, then back at the empty road. It would be a first for him, but maybe just for tonight, he could see how the other half lived.

"Fine," Von said, opening the door. "But nothing overboard."

"Relax," Julian laughed as Von slid into the leather seat. "We’re just going to have a little fun."

***

The destination was The Vault, an unmarked club in the heart of South Beach. From the outside, it looked like an abandoned bank. There was no signage, no line, just a massive steel door and a bouncer who looked like he ate concrete for breakfast.

Julian rolled down his window. The bouncer looked at him, nodded once, and opened the gate without asking for ID.

" VIP only," Julian explained to Von as they drove into the underground garage. "No press, no cameras. This is where the people who run Miami come to play."

Inside, the club was a sensory overload. The bass thumped so deep it vibrated in Von’s chest. The lighting was low and moody, deep purples and neon reds that made everyone look like a silhouette.

Julian navigated the crowd like a shark in water. He switched personas effortlessly. One moment he was the charming celebrity, high-fiving a DJ. The next, he was the arrogant rich kid, snapping his fingers for a table. It was terrifying how good he was at wearing whatever mask the situation required.

They were ushered to a private booth on the mezzanine, overlooking the dance floor. Bottles of expensive champagne arrived with sparklers before Von even sat down.

"To the birthday boy," Julian toasted, pouring two glasses.

Von took a sip. It was sweet, crisp, and stronger than it tasted.

For the next hour, Von felt like he was in a different universe. Models walked by, famous athletes nodded at Julian, and the music never stopped. Julian kept refilling Von’s glass, telling stories about the industry that were equal parts hilarious and horrifying.

Von listened, feeling a mix of fascination and disgust as he heard tales. At some point, the alcohol was starting to hit him, making his vision hazy.

"I think I’ve had enough," Von mumbled, pushing his glass away. "I need to keep my head clear."

"Lightweight," Julian scoffed, leaning back into the plush velvet couch. He looked like a king on a throne, bored with his kingdom.

A waitress approached the table carrying a fresh bucket of ice and a bottle of vodka. She was dressed in the club’s uniform, a skimpy, corset-style outfit that left little to the imagination. She moved with a tired efficiency, clearly used to dealing with drunk, wealthy patrons.

"More ice, sir?"

Julian didn’t answer immediately. He looked her up and down with hungry eyes instead.

"Forget the ice," Julian slurred slightly, reaching out.

As she leaned over to place the bucket on the table, Julian’s hand shot out and grabbed her waist, pulling her toward him.

"Julian, stop..." Von tried to defend her on noticing the waitress disinterest.

But Julian ignored him, instead, his hand slid up from her waist, groping her breast openly.

"Hey!" the waitress gasped, trying to pull away. "Sir, please let go!"

"Relax," Julian laughed and tried to pull her down onto his lap. "You know who I am, right? Just one drink, sit down."

"I said no!" she cried out, struggling against his strength. Her tray clattered onto the table, sending ice cubes scattering across the floor.

Von watched through his hazy vision. The room was bathed in red light, making everything look like a nightmare.

He looked at the waitress’s wide face as she struggled, but then, the haze cleared.

He recognized those eyes. He recognized the shape of her face, the way her hair fell, even under the heavy club makeup.

"Nana?" Von whispered in shock.

It was Naomi. His sister. Working a second job at a club to make ends meet? While he was playing celebrity?

Julian didn’t notice Von’s realization. He was too busy laughing, trying to force her down. "Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be shy."

Naomi slapped Julian’s hand away with panic. "Get off me!"

That was the breaking point. Von launched himself from his seat without thinking, and his fist connected with the side of Julian’s face with a sickening crack.

But Von didn’t stop. He grabbed Julian by the collar of his expensive shirt and hauled him up, slamming him back down, and delivering punch after punches until his knuckles was bathed in red.