Empire's boy

Chapter 1: A World Without a Home

The bass rattled the walls, shaking the cheap wooden frame of the desk. The dim glow of the laptop screen illuminated stacks of crumpled lyric sheets, scratched-out verses, and half-written hooks. Fingers drummed against the table in rhythm as the words poured out in a low hum.

"If Pirus and Crips all got along, they'd probably gun me down by the end of this song..."

Elias Cole closed his eyes and let the music take him. He wasn't Kendrick Lamar. In fact, Kendrick Lamar didn't exist here. That was his advantage. This world, one eerily similar to his own but missing some of the voices that had shaped him, was a blank canvas. And if no one else would paint it, he would.

The beat looped in his headphones, and Elias lost himself in it, visualizing the city, the streets, the pain, and the struggle in every word he wrote. Music was his therapy, his only escape from a world that had never given him much. He had dreams—big ones. The kind that made people laugh when he told them, the kind that had kept him pushing forward despite everything life threw at him.

"Yo, Eli, turn that down!" His mother's voice broke through his trance, weary yet affectionate.

He sighed, reaching for the laptop to lower the volume. "Alright, Ma. Almost done."

His mother, Sandra Cole, was the only person who understood him, the only person who ever believed in his dream. She worked two jobs, sacrificed sleep, and never once let him feel alone in the world. Their small Brooklyn apartment wasn't much, but it was theirs. And now, with her health deteriorating, Elias feared how much longer they had together.

Sandra stood in the doorway, her face thin and tired, yet her eyes still carried warmth. "You got that same fire in you that he did. It's in your blood, baby."

Elias frowned. "Who?"

She hesitated before walking over, holding something in her trembling fingers—a folded piece of paper. "Sit down. I need to tell you something."

The weight in her voice made his stomach twist. He pulled out the chair beside him as she lowered herself down, her breath shallow.

"Eli… I never told you about your father because I didn't want you to be hurt. But it's time you knew. He's alive. And he's... someone important."

Elias swallowed hard. His father had never been part of the picture, just a ghost of a name never spoken. "Who is he?"

Sandra placed the paper in his hands. He unfolded it slowly, his breath catching when he saw the DNA results. A name he had only heard in whispers on TV, in music conversations, in the headlines.

Lucious Lyon.

His heart pounded. "No way. This—this can't be real."

Sandra grabbed his hand, her grip weak yet firm. "I did the test, Eli. He's your father."

He pushed back from the table, standing up so fast the chair nearly toppled over. "So you're telling me I'm some long-lost son of a music mogul? The same man who built an empire and left you to struggle? To raise me alone?"

Tears welled in Sandra's eyes. "I never wanted his money. I just wanted you to be safe. But now... Eli, I don't have much time left. When I'm gone, I need to know you'll be okay."

He shook his head, trying to process everything, but his mind refused to settle. This couldn't be happening. His mother was the only family he had ever known, and now, she was slipping away, leaving him with nothing but the name of a man he had never met.

She cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. "Promise me you'll go to him. He has the power to make sure you're not alone. Promise me."

Elias clenched his jaw, emotions crashing down like a tidal wave. "I promise."

That night, as his mother's breathing grew more labored, he sat beside her, holding her hand, whispering lyrics she had always loved. When the morning came, she was gone.

And Elias Cole was alone in the world.

But not for long.

---

Elias sat on the edge of his bed, gripping the DNA results so tightly they crumpled in his hand. He wanted to scream, punch something, do anything to stop the ache in his chest. But nothing would bring his mother back.

The funeral was a blur. A small service, barely enough people to fill two rows. He stood at the front, staring at her casket, feeling like the world had caved in around him. The only thing that kept him standing was the promise he had made.

After the service, he walked the streets of Brooklyn aimlessly, his headphones blasting beats he had made himself. Every corner held a memory of his mother—the bodega where she bought him ice cream as a kid, the subway station where she held his hand so he wouldn't get lost, the park where she used to hum old jazz songs while he wrote lyrics.

He stopped in front of a graffiti-covered wall, pulling out his notebook. He needed to write, to get the pain out of his system.

"I was raised in the struggle, pain in my veins, Moms worked doubles while I chased the fame. Lost in the city, cold nights and hunger, A name in my blood, now I sit and wonder..."

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. His music had always been personal, but now, it felt like it carried the weight of his entire existence.

Lucious Lyon.

A man he had never met, yet a man who had shaped his life without even knowing it. A man who had the power to change everything. But would he? Would Lucious even acknowledge him, or would he cast him aside like he had so many others?

Elias knew one thing—he couldn't stay here. His mother's medical bills had left him drowning in debt. The apartment was already slipping from his grasp. If he didn't find a way out soon, he'd be just another statistic.

So he made a choice.

With nothing but a suitcase, his notebook, and the DNA results, Elias booked a bus ticket to Philadelphia. Empire Entertainment had headquarters there, and if Lucious wouldn't come to him, he'd bring the truth to Lucious.

As the city lights of Brooklyn faded in the distance, Elias put his headphones on and pressed play on one of his beats. His voice, raw and filled with emotion, whispered over the track.

"This is my mad city, built on pain and sin, A bastard son, where do I begin? I ain't ask for this blood, but it's in my skin, And now I'm coming home, let the games begin..."

He closed his eyes. This was just the beginning