Challenges

The electric guitar's gentle strumming created a melodic canvas, setting the stage for Jcole's soulful delivery. His voice, smooth and soothing, echoed through the studio:

"Oooh, yeah

Ohhhh

Ohh nobody can fit relate

All of my Nike clothes

Wrist is froze

Heart is stone-cold

Superstar lifestyle

Nobody can fit relate

All of my girls dem hoes

Guys dem rogues

God's not a man

No no no

Holy lord save my soul from fire

(Fire, fire them)

Only note I wanna read is naira

(Naira naira naira)

I gotta drive don't need a rider

(Nah nah damn)

These people wan deflate my tire

(Tire them)

Lord delete them, delete them

Delete every virus from my system

Never let your boy fall victim

No no no no

Delete them, delete them

Delete every virus from my system

All these fucking bad belle peeps them

No no no no no no no

Nobody can fit relate"

The lyrics unfolded like a lyrical tapestry, weaving Jcole's emotions into the fabric of the music. The studio, gripped by the powerful combination of lyrics and melody, became a vessel for the raw honesty of Jcole's soul.

The audience's red eyes mirrored the emotional weight of Jcole's lyrics, feeling the sting of dejection and rejection woven into each word. His song peeled away the layers of a superstar lifestyle, revealing the silent struggles and tribulations beneath the facade of Nike clothes and a frozen wrist.

As the haunting truth of his words hung in the air, a passive prayer lingered, blending with the collective empathy of the listeners. Goosebumps covered their arms, a physical manifestation of being lost in Jcole's raw, emotive voice.

"All of my Nike clothes

Wrist is froze

Heart is stone-cold

Superstar lifestyle

Nobody can fit relate

All of my girls dem hoes

Guys dem rogues

God's not a man

No no no"

Jcole, catching his breath, transitioned into rich, rustic Pidgin English, his voice carrying the weight of authenticity:

"I no get time

I no get time for no talk and gist

Nobody understands what I feel

No appetite for the point and kill

I put henny for my bladder

Same amount wit the bread for my aza

Pour me a drink pour me another

I wanna get high 'till I'm higher

Sotey my body fit

Delete them, delete them

Delete every virus from my system

Never let your boy fall victim

No no no no

Delete them, delete them

Delete every virus from my system

All these fucking bad belle peeps them

No no no no no no no no

Nobody can fit relate

All of my Nike clothes

Wrist is froze

Heart is stone-cold

Superstar lifestyle

Nobody can fit relate

All of my girls dem hoes

Guys dem rogues

God's not a man

No no no…"

....

Jcole, locking eyes with the shocked audience, sensed the profound impact of his song. He could almost taste their emotions, a mix of awe and understanding—the same emotions he experienced when he first laid bare his soul through the music.

As applause erupted, breaking the spell, it started with one person and swelled into a wave of appreciation. However, in the midst of this celebration, Tony Dogara, the self-proclaimed prince of LasGidi, stood aloof and resentful. His discontent simmered beneath a thin veneer of indifference, masked by a sinister chuckle and thoughts of revenge.

It should be noted that the twilight studio is affiliated to a fashion house, a giant among giants 'The Orange Culture Fashion House' which is the brainchild of "Mike Dogara," the Commissioner of Art and Culture in the state of LasGidi, and coincidentally, the uncle to Tony Dogara.

So, with Tony Dogara's influential role and extensive network, he naturally had the power and right to be present in the music room alongside other company executives.

Amidst the euphoria, Miss Rose approached with a facade of indifference, her expression giving off an air of detachment that could easily be misconstrued as resentment towards others' success. If one didn't know her, they might have thought she was just another hater in the room.

However, the carefully crafted aloofness shattered as she extended her congratulations to J Cole, revealing a vulnerability beneath the surface. "Thank you so much, J Cole. You might really be my lucky star," she confessed with a sincerity that pierced through the indifferent exterior. Despite the weight of what she needed to share, a genuine sense of gratitude colored her words.

"But there is something I need to tell you," she continued, her voice carrying a subtle urgency. "But first, let's move to my office."

Perplexed, J Cole motioned for Miss Rose to lead the way, curiosity etched on his face as he followed her to the confines of her office. Seconds later, the two found themselves in a gaze, locking eyes in an intimate exchange that transcended mere words. The air between them crackled with anticipation, the tension in the room heightened. Miss Rose, her voice resonating with a profound sense of dejection, admitted, "I feel like I have failed you already. Please don't blame me... I really tried my best."

Jcole, now more bewildered, sought clarity, urging her to reveal the truth. "What happened?"

With a heavy sigh, Miss Rose revealed the harsh reality. "Look, I know I had the option of lying to you, but the truth is the company might file for bankruptcy soon. Without a miracle, we won't be able to afford your amenities – a house, car, clothes – or even promote your songs and collaborations with other bigshots."

The weight of her words settled in the room, a palpable helplessness lingering. Miss Rose, on the verge of a second mental breakdown, expressed the depth of the crisis. Jcole, his concern escalating, pressed further, "Rose, tell me what happened." The emotional landscape shifted, leaving both characters in the delicate balance of uncertainty and shared vulnerability.

J Cole's voice, like a beacon, pulled Miss Rose from her introspective reverie. "It's the investors," she confessed, a tinge of concern coloring her words. "They've decided to sell off their shares, but that's not the core issue. What baffles me is their insistence on valuing those shares based on our past glory, back when the company was a dragon in the business world. Now, we're a far cry from those golden ages."

As she spoke, the weight of the revelation settled in the room, a poignant reminder of the stark contrast between the company's once-soaring success and its current struggles. J Cole's genuine confusion reflected the collective challenge of reconciling a glorious past with the harsh realities of the present. The studio, which had recently echoed with the soulful resonance of J Cole's music, now carried the somber notes of uncertainty, an emotional undertone that permeated the very air they breathed.