Chapter 13
Chapter 13
“What’s wrong with them? Do you know them?”
“Ah, well...”
“Wait. Doesn’t that girl look like you?”
“...”
“Is she your younger sister?”
“...”
Park Geon’s silence was answer enough.
Lil D turned the steering wheel and pulled the car over to the side of the road.
“Oh my God! He’s getting out of the car!”
“It really is Lil D! He’s coming this way!”
“Ugh, I can’t breathe...”
“Take your hands away from your mouth, idiot!”
Suzy had both hands clamped over her mouth.
Jessica’s hand was trembling so badly while holding her phone that every photo came out blurry.
“L-Lil D!”
“H-hi!”
Lil D smiled.
Seeing the same smiling face she had just seen on Instagram right in front of her made Jessica’s knees go weak.
“...Wait.”
Emily looked back and forth between Park Yul and Park Geon.
“Yul, your brother was sitting next to Lil D, right? Then, could he possibly be...?”
An emergency alarm went off in Park Geon’s head.
...No!
The lyrics to [SHOTGUN TO YOUR FACE].
What would happen if people found out those lyrics had been written by a UCLA law student?
Reputation was everything in the legal profession.
If he had a record of professional misconduct, it could even become impossible to pass the bar admission process.
What if his parents found out?
What if Professor Marshall found out?
“Don’t tell me your brother is Shot—”
“No.”
His answer was firm.
“Then why was he sitting next to Lil D...?”
“...Because we’re close friends.”
Close friends?
Lil D’s eyes trembled.
Shotgun was a man of few words.
He was expressionless in the studio, expressionless while working, and even at the barbecue party, he had sat alone in a corner tearing apart cornbread.
He did not react when Lil D called him homie, and even when Lil D held out a fist, Shotgun merely bumped it halfheartedly.
So Lil D had always thought—
Shotgun only thinks of me as a business partner.
A producer and rapper relationship.
Once the work ended, they would each go their separate ways.
But just now—
Shotgun had called him a close friend.
...This bastard. He always looks like he doesn’t feel anything.
Something in Lil D’s chest grew warm.
“Aight. He’s my close friend. Ma homie.”
“Whoa, you’re close friends with Lil D?! That’s insane!”
“He really just called him homie, right? Right?”
“Oh my God! Your brother is Lil D’s best friend?!”
Jessica raised her phone.
“C-can we take a picture with you?”
“If you want.”
While Lil D posed in front of the camera with a V-sign, Park Yul stood one step behind the others, staring at her brother.
Shotgun...?
Emily had stopped speaking halfway earlier, but Park Yul had faintly heard what she had been about to say.
No way.
Her brother would sit in his room with FL Studio open, tinkering with something, but whenever sound came from the speakers, he would quickly turn the volume down.
“Oppa, what are you making?”
“Nothing.”
“Let me hear.”
“No. It sucks.”
“Just once.”
“No. It’s just for myself. It’s not good enough to let anyone else hear.”
It was always like that.
He always said it was just a hobby, that he was an amateur, that he had no intention of uploading anything to SoundCloud, and that he was not skilled enough anyway.
And that brother was Shotgun?
The genius producer who could make a diss track beat in forty minutes and even write the lyrics?
No way...
Still—
The names are kind of similar. Shotgun. Park Geon.
What a strange coincidence.
Emily poked Park Yul in the side.
“Yul, thanks to you, we even got a picture with Lil D.”
“Thank you! I love you, my friend!”
Park Yul’s ears turned red.
“Does your brother have Instagram? I’m going to follow him.”
“My brother doesn’t use Instagram.”
“Aww, too bad!”
Lil D waved and returned to the car.
The Lamborghini’s engine roared, and with a loud vroom, it sped down the road.
“Yul, tell your brother to let us meet Lil D again next time.”
“Oh, please...”
Park Yul noisily sucked on her latte straw and pretended to ignore her friends’ pleading.
Still... this feels pretty good.
For the first time in a while, she felt grateful to her brother.
The heat of the diss battle did not die down easily.
[SMALL] and [SHOTGUN TO YOUR FACE] continued to circulate through online communities.
Memes were created, and screenshots of the lyrics spread everywhere.
B.I.G’s private-school yearbook photo even began trending on Twitter.
Amid all that, a rumor started going around.
—Heard Lil D is preparing an official single.
└ A single? He doesn’t even have a label yet.
└ Maybe HOOVER SOUND is releasing it independently?
└ He got his name out there through the diss battle, so the timing makes sense.
└ But even if they rush, doesn’t it take at least a month or two to properly make a single?
That was common knowledge in the industry.
Unofficial tracks tossed onto SoundCloud, like diss tracks, could be finished in a few days, but an official single was different.
Mastering, artwork, distribution setup, platform registration.
Even when rushed, it usually took at least two months.
And yet—
[DRIVE] was released simultaneously on Spotify and Apple Music only ten days after the diss battle ended.
(Translator’s Note: Apple Music — A subscription-based music streaming service launched by Apple on June 30, 2015.)
—???
—Lil D’s new track dropped.
└ In ten days?
└ That’s insane.
The moment people checked the track information, the comments exploded.
[Prod. SHOTGUN]
—Shotgun again?
└ First the diss track beats in two hours and forty minutes, and now a single in ten days.
└ Looks like Shotgun does everything from beatmaking to production.
└ He even wrote the diss battle lyrics.
└ Is this guy a workaholic?
The people who pressed play were divided into two groups.
One group reacted to the song itself.
The other was stunned by how different it sounded from the diss tracks.
—Is this really the same guy who made that terrifying beat for [SHOTGUN TO YOUR FACE]?
└ Completely different vibe.
└ The diss track felt like someone choking you. This feels like driving at dawn.
└ It’s smooth, but there’s strength underneath it.
└ The way the melody briefly peeks out during the verse and then disappears gives me chills.
└ And that hook, LMAOOOO.
The strongest reaction was to—
“Drive on the top, drive on the top.”
Drive at the top, drive at the top.
The hook.
—What is this? Why do I keep singing it?
└ The addictiveness is insane.
└ The melody itself is simple as hell, so why won’t it leave my head?
└ Please get out of my brain!
└ I sang it in my dorm, and the guy in the next room started singing along.
[DRIVE] showed unusual streaming numbers from its very first day of release.
The buzz built up from the diss battle had effectively served as a launchpad.
Twenty-four hours after release, it reached No. 34 on Spotify’s U.S. chart.
Forty-eight hours later, No. 19.
After one week, it was on the verge of entering the Top 10.
—Lil D is going Top 10 on the viral chart.
└ An underground rapper with his first single?
└ Diss battle effect plus the song itself being good.
As [DRIVE] climbed the charts, the ripple effects began spreading.
Streams of Lil D’s old SoundCloud mixtapes started rising again, while his Instagram followers increased by thousands each day.
Naturally, interest in Shotgun also grew.
—Seriously, who is Shotgun?
└ Two diss tracks plus one single. All different styles, all incredible.
└ There’s no way someone this good was actually unknown, right?
└ But there’s seriously nothing. No SoundCloud, no Instagram, no Twitter.
└ That smog silhouette photo is the only picture of him.
└ Not being able to see his face makes me even more curious.
└ Why the hell is he hiding?
And then—
“Whew...”
J-Rackz, the King of The Vault, had just swallowed his pride.
He had sent Lil D a message.
He wanted to meet Shotgun.
The Crips hideout.
[DRIVE] thumped through the speakers, and the place was in chaos.
“Yo!”
Dustin dropped heavily into the seat beside Park Geon.
“I’m going to be your bodyguard from now on.”
“...”
“You’re only going to get more famous. Don’t you think you’ll need one?”
Jamal leaned against the wall and cut in.
“If there’s anyone you don’t like, tell me.”
“...Why?”
“So I can get another teardrop tattoo.”
You lunatic!
At that moment, another cheer erupted from deeper inside the hideout.
Lil D had arrived.
There was a new spring in his step.
“Wassup, homie.”
Ignoring the greetings from the other gang members, he held out a fist toward Park Geon.
“Shotgun, we proved it with this single. You and me can do this together.”
“...”
“So I’m making you a formal offer this time.”
“...What?”
“Let’s make an album together.”
The noise in the hideout instantly faded.
Not everyone had heard, but several of the people nearby turned their heads.
Silence spread.
One person.
Then another.
Like dominoes.
An album?
Park Geon had barely survived making one single because he had gotten lucky, but an album meant multiple songs.
...What if I refuse here?
The surrounding gang members stared at him expectantly.
Big Joe was watching too.
Every gaze was directed at Park Geon.
He could not tell whether they were waiting for him to answer or preparing to beat him to death on the spot.
The moment that thought crossed his mind, his mouth opened on its own.
“...Of course.”
And then—
“OHHHHHHH!”
The hideout exploded.
“Did you hear that? Did you just hear that?!”
“An album! He said an album!”
“Nah, isn’t this a historic moment?!”
“We’re standing here while history is being made!”
Dustin shot to his feet from the bench and roared at the ceiling.
“AYYYYYYY! LET’S GOOOOO!”
One of the gang members standing beside him jumped onto Dustin’s back.
Dustin casually walked around with the man still hanging on him.
“Shotgun! Shotgun! Shotgun!”
Chants erupted from every direction.
In the middle of it all, Big Joe lit a cigar.
He exhaled a long stream of smoke and nodded once.
...Things got bigger again.
Lil D contacted him.
[Lil D: J-Rackz just messaged me. He says he wants to work with you.]
[Lil D: It’s your decision. I’m staying out of it.]
J-Rackz.
Park Geon remembered seeing him at The Vault.
If Lil D’s flow glided smoothly over the beat, then J-Rackz was the type who struck the beat head-on with his chest.
But more importantly than his skill...
J-Rackz was not affiliated with a gang.
He was simply a rapper who stood on The Vault’s stage through talent alone.
He’s not in a gang.
Ah, what an incredibly wholesome person.
That fact alone was more than enough reason for Park Geon to accept!
Several days later—
“...”
J-Rackz sat in a chair.
Shotgun sat across from him, with Dustin and Jamal standing on either side.
Why am I so nervous?
J-Rackz took a breath and began speaking.
“I was thinking around thirty for publishing. Shotgun, what do you—”
“Huh?!”
Dustin interrupted from the side.
“Thirty?! Nigga, are you fucking joking?!”
J-Rackz flinched.
“You think Shotgun would be satisfied with thirty?!”
“Ah, well, by industry standards...”
Jamal clicked his tongue from beside them.
“Unbelievable. He said thirty.”
Jamal idly touched his back pocket.
That one movement alone made all talk of industry standards disappear.
“Shotgun is a fucking genius producer who got fifty from Lil D too. And you’re offering thirty? Huh?”
“Dustin, you’re not supposed to talk about that.”
Jamal tried to stop him.
Dustin also knew he was not supposed to reveal specific publishing percentages from private contracts, but he had blurted it out in the heat of the moment.
...Fifty?
J-Rackz’s eyes widened.
If Lil D had accepted those terms, that meant he had seen that much value in Shotgun.
Jamal crooked his index finger.
“Fifty is old news. Now you’d have to give him sixty before Shotgun would even feel like putting his hands on the keyboard.”
“...?”
Dustin went even further.
“Nah. He should get seventy.”
“...!”
The wholesome rapper J-Rackz was left speechless by the gangsters’ extortion.
“Where is [DRIVE] on the chart right now? How many streams is Lil D getting from riding over that beat?”
“...”
“So seventy is only fair. Right, Jamal?”
“Now that you mention it, that does sound right.”
What do you mean seventy?! What kind of thug takes that much?!
Park Geon screamed internally.
His actual ability was already questionable enough!
Park Geon hurriedly rolled the number back.
“...Fifty.”
Honestly, even fifty was absurd, but because he panicked, he blurted out the original figure.
That fifty percent figure had only come about because Big Joe and Lil D had misunderstood him while he sat there frozen and offered it on their own.
“Well, Shotgun, if that’s what you want, I guess there’s nothing we can do.”
No, if I take seventy percent, people are going to complain later!
Even if the song became a hit, only thirty percent would go back to the rapper.
That was not collaboration.
That was exploitation.
From the perspective of someone who had read countless cases involving unfair contracts, that arrangement was practically begging for a lawsuit.
“J-Rackz, Shotgun is being generous.”
“Yeah. You should be grateful he’s only taking fifty.”
Shut up!
“Fifty... Fine. Fifty.”
“You got lucky.”
“Count yourself fortunate.”
Please, shut up!
HOOVER SOUND studio.
Creak—
The door opened, and J-Rackz walked in.
His eyes met Lil D’s.
Neither of them said anything.
Well, of course they don’t get along.
Park Geon could understand Lil D’s perspective.
Leaving The Vault had been a strategic decision aimed at reaching the major scene.
But J-Rackz, who had taken the throne after Lil D left, had never personally denied the rumors that Lil D had run away because he was scared.
Lil D probably thought J-Rackz had silently tolerated them.
The more those rumors spread, the more J-Rackz benefited.
But from J-Rackz’s perspective...
He had not started the rumor.
It had arisen naturally in the hood, and he had taken the empty throne Lil D left behind through skill, not politics.
Was he really obligated to personally step forward and explain a rumor created by someone else?
As a law student, my judgment is...
Legally speaking, unless J-Rackz was either the person who spread the rumor or the person who originally created it, he had no duty to clarify it.
But morally, he does.
The principle of good faith between people in the same industry.
It was more a matter of ethics than constitutional law, but knowingly allowing the rumor to continue could certainly be interpreted as implied consent.
If this were a courtroom matter, they could go through mediation...
Why the hell am I analyzing this legally right now?
“Then I’ll start, Shotgun.”
J-Rackz headed into the booth.
A moment later, he put on the headphones and stood in front of the microphone.
First verse.
His voice came in over the trap beat.
Huh?
Park Geon understood the moment he heard it.
He could not explain it using professional terminology, but once again, that vague instinctive feeling hit him.
Unlike what he had heard at The Vault last time—Is he... copying Lil D?