Rewind With A Superstar System-Chapter 63: Diss Track

<🎧 Song Recommendation: Energy by Drake>

...

The next morning, there was only silence from Project: Star. No press release. No email. No angry phone call from a producer telling Von to pack his bags.

Von sat at his desk, staring at his phone, waiting for the axe to fall. But as the hours ticked by, he realized the silence wasn’t negligence, it was permission. They hadn’t withdrawn him. They were letting the scandal breathe.

In fact, the story was already mutating. The gossip blogs were moving on from Von the Thug to Julian the Saint. Every article praised Julian’s forgiveness and his maturity. Von was just a footnote in Julian’s coronation.

"He’s going to win," Von muttered, scrolling through yet another article calling Julian the future of pop music. "He has better vocals. He has the fanbase. And now he has the moral high ground. I’m just the villain he gets to defeat in the final act."

Von turned his phone face down on the desk. "Damn it."

He looked at the crumpled papers scattered around him, the lyrics to the sad ballad about losing hope he had been working on. They all felt weak. It felt like defeat.

"I might just have to borrow a song from the future again," Von whispered, the temptation gnawing at him. "I can’t lose that million dollars. Not to him."

But deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Even a future hit might not overcome the sheer weight of public opinion against him.

He checked his status panel in desperation.

● Composition: D+ (15/100)

Even worse was that he had no EXP to boost his creativity and this was as far as he could go. He only had rage, but no way to channel it.

At that moment, Von froze.

He opened his [Inventory]. Sitting there, ignored for weeks, was a reward he had received after Hollywood Week.

[Consumable: Zone State]

● Description: Enters a state of extreme focus (The Zone) for one hour where processing speed and creativity peaks.

● Grade: A.

Von burst into a wild, slightly manic grin. "How did I even forget about this?!"

The description was promising. If it could actually boost his creativity to, maybe he didn’t need to be a genius songwriter. He just needed one hour of brilliance.

He glanced at the door. Zack wouldn’t be back until evening and the dorm was quiet.

"Here goes nothing," Von whispered.

He selected retrieved the pill immediately.

A small, white pill materialized in his palm. It looked innocuous, like a breath mint. Von didn’t hesitate. He popped it into his mouth.

It was vile. Bitter, metallic, like chewing on aspirin and copper wire. Von gagged, but the pill dissolved instantly on his tongue before he could spit it out.

A sudden wave of cold rushed through his body and the sounds of the dorm all faded away. His vision blurred, the edges of the room dissolving into a bright, sterile white.

"What is this..." Von mumbled, his voice sounding echoed and distant.

[Ding! Zone State Activated]

[Time Left: 0:59:58]

The countdown timer hovered in the center of his vision, glowing with a serene blue light.

Von took a deep breath, and suddenly, he understood.

It wasn’t that he had been transported; it was that his brain had filtered out everything irrelevant. The it was all gone. There was only the objective for him now.

His mind felt like a supercomputer that had just been overclocked. Memories he thought he had forgotten flooded back with crystal clarity. He could remember every specific thing Julian had said. He could hear the beat of the music from that night, the tempo of his own heartbeat.

Ballads are for victims, his mind whispered, the thought arriving fully formed and perfect. You are not a victim. You are a wolf.

He didn’t need a sad song. He needed a weapon.

The idea coalesced instantly: A Diss Track.

But not a petty, shouting rap. Something sophisticated. Something that used melody and rhythm to cut deep. A song that sounded like a pop hit to the casual listener, but was a sniper shot to Julian’s ego.

Von closed his eyes in the white void. Words began to flow.

Usually, songwriting was like mining, chipping away at rock to find a gem. In the Zone State, it was like standing under a waterfall. Rhymes fell into place effortlessly. Complex internal rhyme schemes that would have taken him days to craft appeared in seconds.

Plastic smiles... imported smoke...

He started humming, and the melody wasn’t disjointed. It was sharp, aggressive, yet hauntingly catchy. He could hear the production in his head clearly.

He analyzed Julian’s vocal range. He found the weak spots. He crafted a flow that would force Julian to try and keep up, knowing he couldn’t.

He plays the saint, but I know the sinner...

Von worked feverishly in his mind. He moved between different verses around like puzzle pieces, locking them into the perfect structure. Verse, Pre-Chorus, Drop, Rap Verse, Bridge, Finale.

It was going to be vicious, true and undeniable.

[Time Left: 0:00:00]

The timer soon reached zero and Von opened his eyes.

The white void shattered. The color rushed back into the roomxthe beige walls, the messy desk, the dust motes dancing in the sunlight. The sounds of the world crashed back in.

Von gasped, falling out of his chair and onto the floor. His head throbbed with a dull ache, the aftereffect of pushing his brain too hard.

But he didn’t care. He lay there on the cheap dorm carpet, staring at the ceiling, and started to laugh. It started as a chuckle and grew into a loud, triumphant cackle.

"I have it," Von wheezed. "I actually have it."

He scrambled up from the floor, ignoring his shaking legs, and threw himself at the desk. He grabbed his pen and began to write furiously, transcribing the lyrics that were burned into his memory before they could fade.

The words flowed smoothly for Von. He wasn’t just writing a song this time... He was writing Julian West’s obituary.