Rewind With A Superstar System-Chapter 70: Grand Finale (6)

<🎧 Song Recommendation: Truth In The Lies by Central Cee ft Lil Durk>

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(25 Minutes Before Voting Closed)

While the audience at the Star Theater was still reeling from Von’s performance, a different kind of drama was unfolding three thousand miles away in a sleek, glass-walled office in downtown Los Angeles.

This was the headquarters of West World Records.

Usually, the office was quiet on a Sunday night, but tonight it was a hive of frantic activity. A team of social media managers, publicists, and brand strategists were glued to a wall of monitors, watching the Project: Star finale. Their job was simple: manage the narrative for the label’s unofficial golden child.

But tonight, the narrative was burning down.

"...Everything is crashing down. He’s being called a criminal," a junior analyst reported.

At the head of the conference table sat a man who didn’t need an introduction in the music industry. Rayan West.

He was a titan. A billionaire producer, a rap legend, and a ruthless businessman. He sat with a displeased look.

Despite having numerous children from various relationships, Julian was special. Julian was the one Rayan had chosen. He had the look, the voice, and the clean image that Rayan needed to diversify his empire into pop music.

The plan had been simple, let Julian conquer the biggest singing show in America without daddy’s help, build a grassroots fanbase, and then launch him as a global superstar.

It was supposed to be a coronation. Instead, he was watching a public execution.

"This can’t happen," Rayan said with a low voice. "My son does not lose to a street performer. And he certainly does not lose his reputation because of a reality show."

He turned to his head of PR, a woman named Jessica. "Fix it. Issue a threat if you have to. If Julian loses face because of their incompetence, I will bury that network in lawsuits, trust me."

Jessica nodded and immediately began dialing. It was a race against the clock. The voting window was closing rapidly, and every second lost was a vote for Von Varley.

Using the emergency contact list reserved for top-tier industry players, she bypassed the standard switchboard and connected directly to the control room of Project: Star.

"This is Sarah," a voice answered, sounding harried and annoyed. It was Sarah, the Senior Producer who had argued for keeping Von on the show. "I am in the middle of a live broadcast. Make this quick."

"This is Jessica from West World Records," Jessica said. "I am calling on behalf of Rayan West."

There was a pause on the other end. The name carried weight. Everyone knew Rayan West.

"Mr. West is watching the show," Jessica continued, smoothing her tone into a threat. "He is concerned about the defamatory nature of the performance you just allowed to air. He insists that the integrity of the show, and his son’s career cannot be compromised by slander. We trust you understand the implications if Julian were to lose under these circumstances."

Sarah, sitting in the chaotic control booth, closed her eyes. She had dealt with angry parents before. She had dealt with diva contestants. But this was different. This was Cloudary Holdings versus someone as big as Rayan West.

"I understand your position," Sarah said, keeping her voice steady despite her racing heart. "But Project: Star is a fair competition. The public votes. We do not interfere with the results. That has always been our policy."

"Policies can be adjusted," Jessica countered. "We are talking about Rayan West. Do you really want to be the producer who let his son be humiliated on national television? Think about your future, Sarah."

Sarah looked at the monitor. She saw the live feed of Von and Julian sitting on the couch. She saw the raw, undeniable talent Von had displayed. She hated the politics of these stuff.

"I’m sorry," Sarah repeated with a firm voice. "I cannot help you with that. The votes are auditable. We cannot tamper with them."

"Then get me Rex Sterling," Jessica snapped.

"Mr. Sterling is judging the show. I cannot disturb him."

"Then you leave us no choice," Jessica said and the line went dead.

Back in the office, Jessica turned to Rayan West with a pale face. "They refused. The producer is stonewalling us."

Rayan didn’t explode. He simply reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, a move he should have done earlier.

He easily found the contact of the CEO of Cloudary Holdings, the media giant that owned the network. He was also currently sitting at the judges’ table on live TV, smiling for the cameras. Rayan pressed dial.

***

Rex Sterling felt a vibration in his suit pocket from the theater, but chose to ignore it. He was on air after all. After a few more rings, he decided to subtly check the screen under the table. Seeing the name Rayan West, his stomach dropped. Rayan never called. Not unless it was an emergency.

Rex leaned over to the judge next to him. "Cover for me. I need to use the restroom. It’s an Emergency."

He stood up during the break, flashing a charming smile to the audience, and hurried off-set. He ducked into a private executive bathroom, the only place with guaranteed silence, and answered the phone.

"Rayan," Rex said, trying to sound casual. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Rex, my good friend!" Rayan’s voice boomed on the other end, smooth and charming. "I’d want a small favor from you."

Rex looked surprised, but his instincts were already telling him where this was going. "I can help you with anything, Rayan... but I should hope it isn’t about the final..."

"Indeed it is..." Rayan said, his tone shifting to something colder. "It’s difficult, and I promised not to get involved, but Julian can’t lose, Rex. And it ain’t happening in this way."

Rex held the phone for a few seconds, cursing under his breath. His principles couldn’t permit him to do something like this.

’I should have fucking known,’ he thought bitterly. He never should have allowed someone of that status to compete.

He knew Rayan West was a sneaky fox. He wanted his son to experience a "hard" ride to fame because he believed that only when the public related to your struggles could you become a legend.

That led to him creating the impression that Julian was on a lone path. What better way to cement that legacy than winning the biggest singing show in America?

"But Rayan," Rex sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "That will only ruin everything this show has once stood for. It could be our end if it even gets leaked out. Federal fraud, Rayan."

"You and I know very much that isn’t happening..." Rayan chuckled softly. "And you’re not doing this for free, Rex. I’ll owe you a favor in return. A big one. Now, what are you saying?"

Rex really wanted to reject him. His weakness pained him. Even though he was an elite himself, there were levels to everything.

In the ocean of media moguls, Rex was a shark, but Rayan West was a Leviathan. He didn’t really have the option to reject, and the favor was just a sweetener to a demand.

There was silence for a few seemingly long seconds.

"I’ll see what I can do," Rex finally whispered. "But no promises."

The call hung up right away.

Rex stood there, staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He sighed heavily, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He could still remember the first time he had met Von, busking by the mall.

He still remained impressed by how someone could improve so much in such a short amount of time.

But now, Von had stepped on the wrong tail. His stardom career might just be ending before it even truly began.

He shook his head at his reflection. "I’m sorry, Von. But I can’t help you."

Von’s eyes remained fixed on the screen as the digital battle raged on. Inwardly, he was pleading, hoping against hope that Bar B, the anomaly that had spiked so aggressively, would not surpass Bar A. For a moment, it seemed to stall, the momentum breaking, but then it surged again.

The bars weren’t exactly quantified with numbers or percentages, so he couldn’t know which was leading with how close they were. In the course of these final, agonizing seconds, Bar A also shot up, reacting to the influx of votes as if the audience sensing the shift had doubled their efforts. But Bar B kept breathing on it, rising pixel by pixel, relentless and unnatural.

By the time the countdown timer hit zero, they looked identical in height.

[VOTING CLOSED]

Von let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t tell. Nobody could tell.

A production assistant poked her head into the green room. "Five minutes to the announcement! On stage, please!"

Von stood up, his legs feeling like jelly. As he moved toward the door, he felt a hand grip his shoulder. It was firm, aggressive.

He turned to see Julian, his saintly mask back in place, though his eyes were cold and hard. Julian squeezed Von’s hand in a mock-brotherly shake.

"It’s unfortunate you poked the wrong bear," Julian whispered, leaning in close so only Von could hear. "But good luck, bro." 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Von looked at the hand gripping his, feeling a wave of revulsion. He yanked his hand away, wiping his palm on his pants as if he’d touched something rotting.

"I ain’t your bro," Von said flatly.

He turned and walked out of the room, leaving Julian standing there with a tight, predatory smile.