SuperStar!

"Yo, Ethan, you done with the video call?" Em's voice cut through the quiet hum of the private jet.

Ethan glanced up from his seat, looking over at Eminem, who was deep in conversation with two other guys. He barely had time to register the situation before Em was calling his attention again.

"Yeah, I'm done. What's up?" Ethan replied, but as the words left his mouth, something clicked in his brain. His brows furrowed slightly as he quickly added, "Wait—hold up. Why did you carry me off like that in the first place? And where exactly are we going? Also, you didn't say a damn thing when we left." He ran a hand through his hair, finally processing the fact that he had basically been—well, not kidnapped, but definitely swept away without much explanation. Then again, when the Eminem says, get in, you don't ask questions—you just do it.

Em just smirked at that, clearly amused. "Chill, man. You actin' like I threw you in the trunk or some shit. You walked on the plane. Anyway—" he gestured towards one of the guys he had been talking to, "—this is Emil Nava."

Ethan shifted his gaze to the guy Em introduced, offering a casual, "Hey, man."

"Hey," Emil nodded back, his British accent smooth but friendly.

Eminem, wasting no time, continued, "He's gonna be the director for our music video. I got everything lined up already—all you gotta do is show up, do your thing, and we'll be good to go."

Ethan blinked. "Wait—hold up. I'm on tour right now. I can't just disappear for days."

"Nah, nah, you won't be gone long," Em assured him, waving a dismissive hand. "Lemme let Nava here explain how it's gonna go down."

Emil stepped forward, nodding slightly before speaking. "Alright, first off—congrats on your award, Ethan. Well deserved, mate."

Ethan grinned, still feeling that post-win high. "Appreciate it, man."

"Right, so, about the video—we've got everything prepped and ready to go. The concept is gonna be dark and moody, very raw, very emotional. Think rain-soaked streets, dim lighting, a kind of gritty, real-life feel. Kinda like the first River video," Emil explained, his hands moving as he spoke, clearly passionate about the vision. "For your scenes, you'll be playing a therapist again, filming some intense moments where you're talking with the actors. Then, we'll need a couple of shots of you performing—some in the rain, some close-ups. Shouldn't take more than a day tops."

Ethan's expression shifted at that last part. "Rain?"

Emil picked up on his reaction immediately. "Yeah, but don't worry—Joe here," he gestured toward the other guy, "is our production manager. One of the best in the business. We're setting up artificial rain, controlled environment, the whole thing. It'll look insane on camera. And like I said, one day max, and we're done."

Before Ethan could respond, Em jumped in again, flashing a grin. "And then, I'll lend you my jet to take you wherever you need to go—get you back in time for your tour. No stress."

Ethan leaned back in his seat, taking a moment to process everything. But honestly? There was nothing to think about. A music video with Eminem? He'd be crazy to turn that down. A grin broke across his face as he shook his head.

"Man, for real? You don't even gotta convince me. I'm in. And I really appreciate everything you've done—the concert, this… all of it. I mean, come on, it's a music video with Eminem. How the hell could I say no?"

Laughter rippled through the cabin, and Em just smirked, nodding. "That's what I thought."

As the laughter died down, Ethan took another look around the jet, his eyes scanning the luxurious interior. He let out a low whistle, then shook his head in disbelief. "Damn… first time on a private plane, and I gotta say—" He didn't even finish his sentence, just whistled again.

Em chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "At the rate you're going, man, you just need to chill. Give it time—you'll get there."

Ethan nodded absentmindedly, still taking in the surroundings. "Yeah…" he muttered, running his hand over the armrest.

Eminem glanced at him before his expression turned more serious. "Listen, dude, you just gotta be money-minded. Like, super money-minded. We make a lot off shows, deals, all that—but trust me, it can disappear in a second if you're not smart with it."

Ethan's gaze snapped back to him, and he nodded. "Yeah, I hear you."

Em studied him for a second before offering a small smirk. "I'm not too worried, though. You got a good head on your shoulders. Pretty sure you won't end up like…" He trailed off, then gave a knowing look. "One of those Hollywood artists who went broke."

Ethan let out a chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah, man. Definitely not tryna end up like that."

Before the conversation could continue, Ethan's phone pinged. He glanced down and saw a new message from Jessica. His eyes widened as he read it:

Jessica: "Ethan, you just won Song of the Year at the BRIT Awards! Congrats!"

His heart skipped a beat. "No way," he muttered under his breath. Without thinking, he quickly went online, scrolling through the flood of messages and notifications on his socials. Fans, friends, fellow artists—his entire feed was blowing up with congratulations.

His excitement must've been obvious because Em raised an eyebrow. "What's got you all hyped up?"

Ethan looked up, a huge grin spreading across his face. "I just won Song of the Year."

Em's smirk widened as he leaned back, nodding in approval. "Hell yeah. That's dope. Congrats, man."

Ethan wanted to continue, his excitement coming through in his voice. "Yeah, it's so dope, like it's what I—" He suddenly paused, his eyes widening. "Wait… you still haven't told me where we're going."

Em smirked, nodding his head. "Oh, that's true. Well, we're going to…" He trailed off, noticing Ethan's playful, anxious look. Then he laughed. "We're going to Inglewood, California."