Chapter 13: Chapter 13: Rising Star Beast
"Let's hear it!" Yesan was intrigued by Ethan's confidence.
Raymond also perked up, wanting to know what kind of cover the photographer had in mind for his album.
Ethan reached for the napkin on the table. Alright, here we go again—another idea sketched on a napkin. It was strange how these creative ideas always seemed to come up in places like this.
But there was nothing to complain about. Holding the square napkin, Ethan said, "Let's pretend this is Raymond's album cover. Sorry, does anyone have a pen?"
"Hey!" Davis called over a waiter and threw a pen to Ethan like tossing a dart.
Ethan caught it and drew a simple design on the napkin.
His drawing skills were far better than Apollyon's. At the top, he sketched a row of English letters representing the album title. Below that, he outlined a figure and shaded a large portion.
"This spot is where your album title goes, Raymond. What's it called?"
"Rising Star Beast," Raymond said after taking a sip of his soda.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. He hadn't heard of this name, but it seemed like a pretty typical hip-hop album. That wasn't surprising—every year, tons of hip-hop artists released albums, but only a few actually became famous.
And some of them weren't even alive anymore.
So, in Ethan's view, Raymond's album was already destined to flop. What he was doing was merely dressing up garbage, turning a pile of dog poop that no one wanted into something that looked slightly more presentable.
Though the taste wouldn't be any different.
"Alright, Rising Star Beast, we'll put it at the top," Ethan said, explaining his idea to Yesan. "As for the album cover color, we'll use a red background, with the title in gold."
"What's that below? A beast?" Davis couldn't help but ask, only to be smacked by his older brother a second later.
"Stupid kid, that's me!" Raymond understood what Ethan had drawn. "So, I'm just under the title? That seems a bit basic."
Yesan thought about it and added, "Yeah, this cover sounds a bit too simple."
Ethan smiled. Of course, it was simple—in terms of layout and photography, it was indeed straightforward.
But that didn't mean the cover was bad. In fact, the idea was inspired by the cover of The Weeknd's 2016 song *Starboy*, which he collaborated on with Daft Punk.
When the song was released, its music video won the "Best Pop Video" award at the MTV Europe Music Awards.
Additionally, the cover was considered a classic in the world of hip-hop, not because of its style, but because of its unique color scheme.
Noticing the confusion in Yesan and Raymond's eyes, Ethan smiled. "It might sound simple, but it's not. I plan to photograph Raymond and color his entire body blue."
He pointed to three sections on the napkin. "Blue, red, and yellow—the primary colors in art. They're also one of the most attention-grabbing combinations. Add some film grain, and it'll look super cool!"
"Red and blue?" Yesan furrowed his brow, thinking for a while. He had a vague sense that the combination had a strong visual impact, but without a picture, he couldn't form a clear image in his mind.
Raymond, on the other hand, shook his head outright. "Hey, bro, don't you think that's a little too plain? Why not gather some girls and my crew for a group shot in black and white? It'd look way cooler than just me alone!"
He was referring to the current trend among many hip-hop artists for album covers: black and white photos with wads of cash and gold chains in hand, bodies covered in tattoos, embodying a gangster style.
Big gold chains, small watches—it's a style that's oddly similar to the aesthetic back in a faraway land in northeast China.
But Ethan scoffed at this. "Raymond, do you really want your album to sell?"
"Of course!" Raymond's loud voice made everyone's ears ring.
"Then you need to surprise people!" Ethan tapped the table. "Think about it—if record stores are filled with black-and-white albums, and suddenly there's a brightly colored one in red, blue, and yellow, don't you think customers will give it an extra look?"
Yesan suddenly clapped his hands. "Exactly! That's it—Ethan's right!"
Raymond looked at them, confused, scratching his head. "What are you guys talking about? I don't get it."
Davis, however, seemed to have caught on and nodded quietly. "Bro, it really does stand out more than black and white."
Raymond furrowed his brow, and Yesan teased, "Raymond, you should've spent a few more years in school. Look here!"
He pulled out a red lighter and placed it on the white table. "Which one catches your attention more, the red or the white?"
"Obviously the lighter. And thanks, Yesan—you're a mind reader. I was just about to light up." Raymond grabbed the lighter and lit a cigarette, handing out cigarettes to the others as well.
Ethan smiled and declined, scooting a bit away from them.
Second-hand smoke wasn't just harmful, it smelled awful too. He didn't want his healthy body suffering from it.
After a few puffs, Raymond seemed to have figured out the key, nodding his head. "Red is more eye-catching than black and white…"
"Trust me, Raymond," Ethan shrugged. "I'm the professional here."
"Yeah, you're right, man," Raymond said after a brief moment of hesitation. "You leave the professional stuff to the professionals. We all have our roles."
"Exactly—know your roles." Yesan laughed. "Alright, it's settled. Raymond, tomorrow we'll shoot the cover as soon as possible, then I'll handle getting it to the factory for printing."
"Although, going with colors instead of black and white will increase the cost."
Yesan exhaled a puff of smoke, his expression obscured by the haze.
"Yesan, if you want to succeed, you can't worry about costs!" Raymond was full of confidence. "Maybe my album will blow up all over New York, and everyone will know my name!"
"Let's hope so!" Yesan stood up and patted Ethan on the shoulder. "Tomorrow, come to the office, and we'll talk about what we need to prepare for the shoot, Ethan."
"No problem."
"Alright, I've got some other things to take care of today, so I'm heading out."
"Goodbye, Mr. Yesan."
"See you tomorrow."
After Yesan left the pizza shop, Raymond suddenly invited Ethan to visit the music company he was part of.
Ethan didn't have anything else to do, so he didn't decline. He followed Raymond and Davis to a building not far from the pizza shop.
Unlike the bright, spacious company he had imagined, Raymond led him straight to a basement, surrounded by iron bars and a heavy metal door blocking the way.
"This is your company?" If it weren't for the sign saying "Faith Music Company" on the door, Ethan would've thought they were entering a prison.
With Arcady on his arm, Davis shrugged. "It's normal. You'll get used to it."
Raymond was already a step ahead, knocking on the iron door.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
The sound was loud, and soon a sliding panel opened, revealing a pair of eyes scrutinizing the group.
The door swung open, and a muscular, tattooed man let them in.
"Good afternoon, Slo."
"Got a smoke?" Slo asked lazily.
"Here you go." Raymond handed over the half-empty pack of cigarettes, bumped fists with Slo, and led Ethan and the others into Faith Music Company.
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