Chapter 76
"Yes," I said with a nod. "And that's actually something I want to talk about."
That caught everyone's attention.
"Wait, for real?" Sam asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Like… seriously?" Carly added, shifting closer.
"Yeah. I've been thinking a lot about it," I continued. "Not just as a hobby, but as professional. But I don't want to get too famous before I'm of legal age."
Freddie sat up straighter. "Dude, I think that's awesome. You definitely have the voice for it."
"But I'm thinking about using a mask and already starting to release some songs," I added.
"Like Batman!" Freddie blurted out.
We all gave him a deadpan look.
"Idiot," Sam said
—
Later that night, I found myself in the kitchen with Uncle Charlie and Dad. They were casually sipping their coffee while flipping through some old newspaper on the counter.
"So," I began, leaning against the fridge, "I was talking to my friends earlier about something important."
Charlie looked up, mildly interested. "You didn't knock up someone, did you?"
Alan gave Charlie a disapproving look.
"Funny," I said dryly. "No, I've been thinking about launching some music. Recording and releasing stuff."
Dad raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Charlie spoke again, more seriously this time. "You do have the talent for it."
"Thank you, Uncle Charlie," I said. "And you, Uncle Charlie? Are you sure you don't want some of my songs? You can be famous..."
"Nah, I'm good. I don't really like to sing for public."
I nodded. We had already talked about it. Then I continued,
"But I don't want to be famous before I'm of legal age. So I'm thinking about using some disguises. And the songs I have in mind—some of them won't even be sung by me."
"What kind of disguise?" Dad asked, curious now.
Looking over at Charlie, who was holding a bag of marshmallows and munching on one, I smirked. "Maybe... a marshmallow costume?"
Alan looked at the bag in Charlie's hand and snorted. "You can't be serious?"
—
The next day, I was in the office of J.D. Company (my company name, nothing too creative, just my initials). Pepper stood by the whiteboard, flipping through some of the notes I had left.
When I brought up the disguise idea again, she looked up and said, "You can't be serious?"
"I am. I don't want to be famous too soon."
"Not that idea. The marshmallow one," she said seriously.
"I saw my uncle eating it, and I thought 'why not?'" I said, explaining the idea.
"Jake," Pepper said deadpan, looking me straight in the eye.
"That fluffy white candy seems like a good idea," I said straight to her.
"Jake," Pepper repeated again, not buying any of my shit.
We looked at each other for a moment.
Pepper stared at me, thoroughly unamused.
"Ok," I ruffled. "I might have bought the bag of marshmallows and waited for the exact moment to bring it up."
(With my experience, Uncle Charlie usually steals my snacks the same day—or the day after.)
Pepper remained serious.
"Oh, come on. Imagine if I become a famous singer. When they ask me about it, I'd say it all started by watching my uncle eat candy. That would be hilarious."
Pepper clacked a smile and sighed with a soft laugh. "What should I do with you?" Then, after a moment, she added, "Alright, pass me your idea. I know you don't do half-assed ideas."
So I told her the idea: a mask shaped like a marshmallow, but with a twist—sharp teeth for eyes and a wide, mischievous smile across the face. LED lights would be embedded in the design, changing colors and pulsing with the rhythm of the music.
I even made a sketch of the mask. And the name was Marshmello—without the "w" at the end.
"Incredible enough, not a bad idea," said Pepper, looking at the sketch. "But we need to see it for real." Then after a moment, she continued, "I know you have more than a hundred songs in your name."
"Yeah," I replied, then thought to myself, I stole it all. And I'm still remembering the rest.
"What kind of songs are you planning to release?" Pepper asked.
"Electronic. These are the first five songs: …" so I said the four songs names. I paused a moment, then added, "and 'Friendzone.'"
I thought to myself, Since I already have a song called 'Friends,' I'll change the original Marshmello title to 'Friendzone.' Might as well be the one to create the concept—since the TV show Friends doesn't exist here, and the movie Just Friends hasn't been released.
To honor our brave soldiers lost to 'life.'
—
On my way back home, I grabbed a cab. When I arrived and stepped into the garage, I saw my dad sitting in the driver's seat of his car—with Rose in the passenger seat.
I froze at the entrance and blinked.
Yeah, I don't want to know what weird thing happens here.
I entered through the kitchen and passed by the living room. That's when I saw Uncle Charlie with a few friends—four people in total. Two were sitting on the couch, one in the armchair, and the oldest one was comfortably settled in the recliner. They were all sipping whiskey and puffing on cigars.
Charlie looked up, spotted me, and grinned wide.
"Hey, this is my nephew I'm always talking about," he said proudly, raising his glass as he motioned toward me.
I greeted them politely, shaking hands and offering a nod to each of them. I stayed for a few minutes, making small talk, answering some questions, and smiling through a few light jokes.
After a while, I excused myself and headed to my room. I was more tired than I realized.
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A/N: I made an Auxiliary chapter few days ago. If you have any doubts about someone, leave a comment there. I plan to update it from time to time.
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