The next morning, Connie drove her Ford pickup truck at high speed on her way to school.
Emily sat in the passenger seat, Alex lay in the back seat catching up on sleep, and as for Tony, he hadn't been to school since leaving the football team.
On the radio, Chicago's famous DJ 'Big A' and the host were gossiping about the internal strife within the gangsta rap group NWA. It was rush hour, and the radio program was getting a lot of listenership.
"So, 'Big A,' which side do you support? Eazy-E or Ice Cube?" the host asked.
"Of course I'm on Eazy-E's side." 'Big A' stated firmly.
The host pressed further, "What's your reason?"
"Because I'm 'Big A' and he's 'Big E', hahaha…" 'Big A' threw out a lame joke and then laughed hysterically to himself.
"Uh..." The host couldn't continue, and the atmosphere became awkward.
"Okay, okay, enough joking. It's simple. What can I say about someone like Cube?" 'Big A' suddenly became very serious. "According to irrefutable revelations, his parents both work at UCLA. A kid who grew up in luxury, wearing a floral bandana and daring to represent 'street heroes' while singing gangster rap, don't you find that ironic? It's like… like margarine isn't real butter. To put it simply, he's a fake."
"But according to the leaks, there seems to be solid evidence that 'Big E' embezzled Cube's money." The host tactfully took the opposing side, "Cube wrote half of the lyrics for the best-selling album, but only received a very small share of the profits..."
"What could a kid from a middle-class family possibly turn against? Money, of course."
'Big A' expressed disdain, "Cube is a typical commercial singer. His goal is to make money. His departure is a good thing for NWA. The people who remain are the real brothers, pure gangster music, daring to shout 'Cops'..."
"Okay, let's stop with the NWA gossip for now and take a commercial break." The host quickly interrupted 'Big A's' rambling. The song that NWA used to criticize the police officers was a taboo on many radio programs, and he didn't want to lose his job.
Radio broadcasting studio.
"You scared me to death! Take it easy later, or I won't give you any more gigs." During the commercial break, the host warned 'Big A'.
"It was my fault."
'Big A' admitted defeat, saying he only came to record the show to earn money and eat, and asked, "What's the content of the next segment?"
"Lowry's new album is getting promotional music."
The host took out the cassette case and handed it to 'Big A', saying, "Say nice things to him later, you know what I mean." He tapped the case.
"I've never even heard of Little Lowry."
'Big A' took the cassette case, found the Old Joe Music logo on the cover, and remembered, "Old Joe is still promoting this sissy?" He opened the case, took out a small stack of rice knives, counted them, and stuffed them into his pants pocket. "He's really willing to spend a lot of money. What's the amount he's giving you?"
"Countdown to the end of the commercial break, 10, 9..." The radio station staff's announcement came through the earpiece.
"Just like you." The host, still concerned, reminded him again, "Don't say anything carelessly."
"Don't worry." 'Big A' patted his pocket. "I'm good at getting things done for money."
"Okay, welcome back. Next up is a new song from Lowry II, Thrift Shop!" The host began his professional praise. "We recently featured one of Lowry's songs, and the Chicago music critics gave it high marks, unanimously believing he has a very bright future. His self-titled debut album will soon be available in major record stores, so listeners who are interested should keep an eye out..."
As the rhythmic beat of drums and saxophone began, the host fell silent.
The three-minute song finished playing quickly.
"Hey 'Big A,' give me some advice."
The host kicked the stunned "Big A" and asked, "What's your opinion on this song?"
"I'm fucking blown away!"
'Big A' is getting hyped again.
The timing was perfect. Arriving at school, Connie parked the car. "Will you become a big shot?" he asked Alex , turning back to her.
"Why would you ask that?" Alex woke up.
"The radio station spoke very highly of your song," Connie replied.
"That's not my song, that's Little Lori's song," Alex corrected Connie. "I've warned you all before, at school, don't associate me with this song in any way. I just want a quiet learning environment. And don't believe a word the radio DJs say, they're just doing it for money."
"But…" Connie tilted her head and thought for a moment, feeling quite regretful, "My poor brother, if those girls knew you wrote a song for Little Lowry, believe me, you could say goodbye to being single immediately."
"What's so pitiful about being single? I'm only fifteen, the prime of my life to focus on my studies..."
Alex tossed his schoolbag aside and strode into the classroom.
This high school also had its good points. For example, if you missed ten days or half a month, no one would care. The teachers would just teach his classes without a care in the world. There wouldn't be any students who would pretend to ask if something had happened at home. Alex continued to be the invisible student and focused his energy on his studies again.
He frantically caught up on math, crammed on English and public speaking, and then, during an orchestral rehearsal, successfully regained his position as the orchestra's principal trumpet player with a single trumpet performance. His recent intensive recording sessions, coupled with the fact that Old Joe had brought in some truly talented musicians for the Thrift store recording, had allowed him to immerse himself in music daily, and his original musicality had finally almost fully recovered.
With only one major challenge remaining—sportsmanship—Alex also began to consciously strengthen his physical training.
Lost in my studies, I lost track of time; a week had quietly passed...
Tony, who had been traveling all over Illinois with Lori Jr. for promotional activities, returned home for the first time over the weekend.
"Sales are good, five thousand copies in the first week. The store is already urging us to restock, and we've printed another ten thousand cassettes. Old Joe has also started contacting CD factories." Tony was very excited. Judging from his feedback after a week of 'employment,' things were going quite well. Dressed in a black suit and sunglasses, he said, "Yesterday we put on a show at the underground nightclub across from Old Joe's Music. The girls went absolutely crazy. If it weren't for Silencer and me..." He spread his arms, making the signature interception gesture of a celebrity bodyguard, "Little Lowry almost wouldn't have made it out."
"Ahem." Alex , who was cooking, gestured with his lips to remind Tony to be mindful of other people's feelings.
Al has been living off his family, eating and drinking at their house, and hasn't gone back to work at the restaurant. If it weren't for his cooking skills, Aunt Susie would have kicked him out.
"What do you mean, Al? Come back with me. We're going to do some promotional work outside of Illinois, and we're short-handed." Tony came with a mission. "Pablo asked me to tell you that he's still your agent and will take care of you."
"Is he afraid I'll say something inappropriate and ruin little Lowry's bright future?"
El tossed the pot around, making a clanging sound, and replied curtly, "I should have had a share of all of this."
"You still get a share, don't you?" Tony protested. "You need to face reality."
"The reality is that I was kicked out like a dog."
"Uh... El." Alex decided he had to persuade this guy to leave no matter what. Playing games until late at night every day was too annoying and was affecting his studies. "Don't be stupid anymore. You need to know that a small singer can only get a very small share from record sales. The bulk of the money comes from future performance fees, concert income, appearance fees, and so on. As long as you go back, as long as your voice is still in Little Lowry's album, you can't be missing from the stage performances. You'll get a share of all those incomes. It would be a shame to give it up like this."
"It was supposed to be a large portion." El was still agonizing over this.
"What the hell is the point of you saying all this now?" Tony couldn't help but curse.
"Even a small portion costs a lot," Alex advised.
Al stopped talking, put down the frying pan, went upstairs, and closed the door.
"This guy! He really thinks this place is his own home, doesn't he!" Tony said helplessly.
Al didn't go back with Tony in the end.
In the middle of the night, Alex vaguely heard someone crying in his sleep. He sat up and peeked out from the lower bunk. El was hugging his blanket. "I can't take it, I can't take it..." Tears streamed down his face. "I'm an N*Ger who grew up in southside. I can't stand these guys who are all businessmen and lies. The thought of going back and pretending nothing happened and dealing with them again is unbearable... I'm afraid that one day I'll impulsively shoot them all..."