Chapter 72: The Aftermath
Midday sun sliced through the windows of Rico's Escalade as we crawled through Manhattan traffic, the city's energy distinctly different from the predawn quiet we'd navigated hours earlier. Jasmine sat in the back seat, exhausted but electric, scrolling through her flip phone as messages poured in from a world that had suddenly learned her name.
"Fifty-seven missed calls," Rico said from behind the wheel, his own phone buzzing like an angry hornet. "Labels, managers, promoters – everyone wants a piece now." He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "You knew this would happen, didn't you?"
I watched the city scroll past, remembering how differently this day had played out in my first life – how many opportunities we'd missed by not understanding the moment's true weight. "Let them want. Hunger makes the deal sweeter."
*Through the concrete canyons*
*Watch the vultures circle high*
*Every dream's a ransom*
*That the future has to buy*
The impromptu lyrics floated through my mind, a melody from a song that wouldn't be written for another decade in my original timeline. But now, watching Jasmine's reflection in the window as Manhattan's towers cast their shadows over us, I knew we'd record it much sooner.
"Power 105.1 wants us this afternoon," Rico said, checking his messages at a red light. "Hot 97 wants you back tomorrow. And BET..."
"No," I cut him off, remembering the lesson of pacing I'd learned the hard way the first time around. "We let it breathe. Let the streets do the talking."
Jasmine looked up from her phone. "Streets are already talking. My cousin says they're playing the freestyle recording at every corner in Crown Heights."
I smiled, knowing that in this era before social media dominance, street buzz was still the most valuable currency. In my original timeline, I'd learned too late how to cultivate that organic growth. But now...
"Marcus," Rico's voice carried a note of concern I rarely heard, "these offers... they're bigger than anything I've seen this early. Something about that freestyle changed the game."
Of course it had. We'd just introduced a sound that wouldn't exist for another five years – a blend of battle rap urgency and melodic soul that my future self had heard evolve through countless iterations. But in 2004, it landed like a prophecy.
My phone buzzed with a text from my mother: "Hospital cafeteria gave you a standing ovation. Even Dr. Mitchell was dancing. Come home for dinner tonight? Bringing your favorite lasagna."
The simple message nearly broke me. In my first timeline, she'd worked through this day, too worried about bills to celebrate our moments. But now, with the future secure in ways she couldn't yet see, she'd let herself believe in the dream.
"We should celebrate," Jasmine said, as if reading my thoughts. "Hit up Junior's, maybe? My treat."
Rico laughed. "Girl, with these deals coming in, soon you'll be buying the whole restaurant."
But I was already thinking ahead to the next move. In my pocket, I felt the weight of a CD containing the follow-up track – one that would bridge this moment to the future I knew was coming. In my original timeline, I'd learned that success wasn't about one song or one moment; it was about understanding how to build momentum across time.
"First," I said, "we need to stop by the studio. There's something I want you to hear."
Rico groaned. "Marcus, we've been up since four AM."
"Trust me," I said, the phrase that had become our mantra. "This is about tomorrow, not today."
As we turned toward Crown Heights, I caught a snippet of Jasmine's freestyle playing from a passing car – the future bleeding into the present like tracks overlapping on a DJ's turntable. In my first life, I'd chased moments like this, never understanding they were just pieces of a larger composition.
*Watch the crown rise higher*
*Every word a golden stair*
*They can't touch this fire*
*Brooklyn's burning in the air*
The city stretched out around us like a symphony waiting to be conducted, every street a measure, every block a beat. In my pocket, my phone buzzed again – probably another label, another offer, another thread of destiny rewinding itself around our new timeline.
But first, we had a future to record. And this time, we'd get the mix just right.
new book out
Title: Second Chance: Rise from the Dead
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