[Chapter 39: The Fresh Prince]
At this moment, even if the other party hadn't spoken, Orlando already recognized who this guy was.
Will Smith, the lead actor of Bad Boys, Men in Black, I Am Legend, and others.
And, he had taken on the stage name "Fresh Prince," which was just begging to be teased.
"They just look down on us black folks. Your music is so good, but they keep putting us down!"
"Man, you should definitely come to the hip-hop scene. We'd love you there. You might even be the first super light-skinned hip-hop superstar!"
"Why am I in L.A.? Well, it's a long story. Honestly, it's because I'm almost broke."
After chatting a bit, it was pretty obvious Will Smith was genuinely drunk.
He went on to tell Orlando why he'd left New York and come out to L.A.
Basically, he'd hit it big two years ago -- his albums sold really well. He made a lot of money.
But -- he hadn't paid enough taxes... umm, reading his mind told Orlando he wasn't being totally honest.
The guy had dodged taxes.
His amateurish attempts to flee from the IRS failed, and he got caught and heavily fined.
The steep fines left him struggling financially, and the tax evasion seriously hurt his reputation and income.
Everything together put this hip-hop rising star just one step away from bankruptcy.
Will Smith, unable to make it in New York anymore, had jumped at the chance and eagerly came to L.A.
"Why not write a few new songs and release a new album? The record business is still making loads of money these days."
"I'm not you. I don't have your talent for casually writing great songs."
Will quietly paused, then gave a wry smile. "Orlando, not everyone's got your kind of gift. I can't write new hits, and I'm not planning to stay in the music industry anymore. That's why I'm here -- I want to try acting instead. I'm auditioning for an NBC sitcom. The pay isn't great, but it's a good opportunity -- especially rare for us black guys..."
"I can loan you some money."
Suddenly, Orlando interrupted Will's drunken rambling.
Not only Frank was surprised, but even Will Smith looked stunned.
Orlando had read Will's intentions through his mind -- he initially came over to network, but for a moment he also thought about borrowing some cash.
Between the IRS fine and no new income, Will had even sold his New York mansion.
The fine was paid off, but Will was barely scraping by.
Thanks to his star status, he got into an MJ party, hoping to find a new chance and maybe borrow money from fellow black artists.
Since Will and Orlando weren't super close, even though borrowing money had crossed his mind briefly, he hadn't really dared to ask.
So, when Orlando offered first, Will naturally was taken aback.
"I'm serious, man." Orlando nodded sincerely and patted the handsome black guy on the shoulder. "I've seen the news, I know what you're going through. I can't help with much, but I'm willing to loan you some cash to get through this rough spot. Brother, I believe in you -- you're gonna be a big star."
"Oh man..."
Will's eyes were red, both from the booze and being deeply moved.
He grabbed Orlando in a hug. "Oh, I don't even know what to say... Orlando, of all people, you're the only one who's really here for me... You're a real friend -- No, you're a real brother!"
"Don't say that, Will. We're black. We've gotta help each other out."
"Right, we're black -- that's what we do!"
A white guy and a not-so-dark-skinned black guy hugging and talking about how black folks gotta support each other.
Frank, Orlando's white manager, blinked hard.
Frank thought, Orlando might have about 1/6 black ancestry, but you wouldn't tell just by looking at him.
Honestly, if you claimed Orlando really had black blood and excluded DNA analysis, it'd just be his muscular physique and the enviable size that made other guys jealous.
"Alright, alright, bro."
Orlando let go of Will and pulled out a checkbook. "Five hundred grand enough?"
"Oh, that's a little much. Three hundred thousand, no, two hundred thousand will be enough."
"Let's make it five hundred. It'll help you get a solid footing here in L.A. The cost of living's not exactly cheaper than New York."
"Oh man, bro..."
'I am not worried you wouldn't pay it back -- you're Will Smith, after all.'
Orlando quickly wrote the check.
Will looked embarrassed and a little shy as he accepted it.
---
At that moment, Jeff from Orlando's Warner Records team came over, looking urgent.
"Orlando, Frank, you'd better come over here."
"What's up?"
"Someone's bothering Jennifer and Diana, mainly Jennifer."
"Fuck? Who?"
"Evan Dando, lead singer of The Lemonheads."
Orlando glanced at Frank. "That name sounds familiar."
"He's a pop-rocker, his mom was a famous fashion model back in the day, and his dad owns a clothing company in Boston. When Old Town Road dropped, he bitched in the media, trying to ride your coattails. Oh, and he's about your age, too."
"I remember now. Last time I came to L.A., a reporter asked me about this guy -- you told me to ignore it."
"This must be the guy."
"Fuck. Jeff, take me there."
"Got it!"
Orlando's anger flared as he followed the Warner Records staff, not forgetting to slip the check into Will's hand.
"Here you go, bro. I gotta handle something."
Will didn't hesitate and tagged along, taking the check.
"I know Evan Dando. We even traded jabs in the media last year. What's he done now?"
"Jennifer's my assistant, and I think she could be a star. Plus... she's my girl."
"Oh! Fuck!"
The handsome black guy's face twisted in anger. "I'm gonna beat the crap out of that Evan Dando, fuck him!"
---
When they reached the corner of the party, Jennifer and Diana were indeed being approached by someone.
As Orlando got closer, he overheard the good-looking blond guy saying, "Hey girl, at least give me a shot to get to know you."
"Back off, or I'll call for help! My... my boss is here!" Jennifer relaxed a bit when she saw Orlando coming and snapped coldly.
"Fuck, asshole, stay away from my bro's girl!"
Orlando hadn't had time to speak yet.
But Will already stepped forward and shoved Evan Dando away.
Evan stumbled back and steadied himself against the wall.
"Hah, didn't expect it was you, Fresh Prince, a failure and loser. Heard you couldn't make it in New York and came to L.A. to play extra? Look at you now, just some bastard's lackey? Seems pretty typical for your kind!"
Evan regained his stance, wildly angry, and clearly recognized Orlando and Will Smith.
"And you, Orlando, you're just a mixed-race bastard, desperate to break into the white music scene, right? But a bastard is a bastard, you..."
Evan sneered and was about to continue the trash talk.
But Will was already furious.
He charged forward, throwing punches while cursing, "Fuck off! Who do you think you are? A racist white bastard? Fuck you..."
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Every punch landed solidly.
*****
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