First Autograph - "13"

Pierre snapped his fingers in front of Brandon's face, his brow furrowed in exaggerated concern.

"HelloOOoo? Earth to Mr. B? You still with us?"

Brandon blinked rapidly, reality rushing back like a tidal wave.

A slow, almost predatory smile spread across his face, his eyes glinting with a newfound confidence that seemed to radiate from his very core.

"The daily driver's set. Now, what about a hypercar?"

Pierre's eyebrows shot up, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He stroked his chin thoughtfully, leaning back in his seat.

"Anything you have in mind?"

Brandon paused, his gaze drifting towards the ceiling as he considered the options.

"Something badass, rare... preferably numbered."

"Any budget?" Pierre asked, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Brandon turned to him, a smirk playing on his lips.

He said nothing, but his expression spoke volumes.

Pierre rolled his eyes dramatically.

Pierre's eyes darted to the black card in his hand, the Blackstone emblem gleaming like a silent taunt.

"Urghh!" He let out a theatrical groan, slumping back in his seat.

"Right, stupid question," he grumbled.

Pierre leaned back in the plush leather seat, his fingers tracing the smooth contours of the armrest. His jovial demeanor suddenly shifted, his eyes narrowing as he fixed Brandon with an intense stare.

"So? Are you gonna tell me what happened?"

Brandon's gaze dropped to his hands, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I... I ran away," he admitted, the words tasting foreign on his tongue.

"Then I got jumped at school. Hit my head. Nearly died."

He looked up, meeting Pierre's intense stare.

"But my memories are still... fragmented. Like pieces of a puzzle I can't quite fit together."

Pierre's expression turned cold, his usual warmth evaporating in an instant.

He banged his fist against the side of the car.

*THUD!!!*

"Who did it?" Pierre demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Brandon's eyes widened, and he raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"Hey, this is my new ride!" he chided, trying to inject some levity into the situation.

"Look… I'm okay now..."

But Pierre wasn't having it. He leaned in close, his gaze boring into Brandon's.

"Give me a name," he said, each word dripping with barely contained fury.

Brandon paused, unsure how to respond, he held no hatred for those who caused the death of the old Brandon, I mean... that wasn't really him.

In fact, there was a twisted tinge of gratitude, they gave him a second chance at life after all no? 

After a moment, he replied, "Stanley Donoghue, I think his name was."

Without breaking eye contact, Pierre pulled out his phone.

His fingers flew across the screen as he started to google, no... goggle the name.

Suddenly, Pierre's eyes widened. He let out a low whistle, turning the phone towards Brandon.

"Looks like 'karma's' already caught up with them, B."

Brandon's gaze fell on the screen, his breath catching as he read the headlines:

[ BREAKING: Donoghue Diner Disaster - Son and Friends Pass from Food Poisoning ]

[ Shocking Video: Donoghue CEO's Dominatrix Scandal Exposed ]

[ Donoghue Dynasty Crumbles: Wife Caught in Embezzlement Scheme ]

[ Tax Fraud Allegations Rock Donoghue's F&B Empire ]

Brandon's eyes darted from one headline to the next, each one landing like a punch to the gut.

A cocktail of emotions - shock, disbelief, and a hint of something darker - washed over him. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly as dry as a desert.

"This is..." he trailed off, searching for words.

"This is beyond insane…"

Pierre nodded, his expression grim.

"Looks like your peeps have been busy," he said, his voice low.

"The Donoghues' empire decimated before getting a chance to react."

"When did all this happen?" Brandon asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Pierre scrolled through the articles, his eyes narrowing.

"Most of these are from the past two days. Dominoes falling, one after another— quick."

Brandon leaned back in his seat with a smirk.

He knew his family was powerful, but this... this was on another level entirely.

Pierre placed a reassuring hand on Brandon's shoulder, his expression softening.

"You should've told us earlier, B. We've got your back, always."

He shook his head, a mixture of anger and disbelief crossing his face.

"Hmph, the audacity of these peasants! They're lucky Big Sis Elise didn't get her hands on them first..."

"Elise?" Brandon asked, his brow furrowing.

Suddenly, a flood of memories washed over him.

A quick flashback played in his mind - a tall, elegant blonde figure, stern yet protective, standing over him with hands on her hips. The image was fleeting but powerful.

Brandon rubbed his temples, wincing as if struck by a migraine.

Pierre leaned in, concern etched on his face.

"You alright?"

Brandon shook his head, trying to clear the fog.

"Yeah, I remember Elise... But I'm pretty much half an empty vessel right now with sporadic flashes of memory..."

Pierre tapped Brandon's shoulder supportively.

"Don't worry, I got your back. And thank god you didn't forget Elise. She'd kick my ass just 'cause you remembered me and not her! Hahaha"

Brandon stepped out of the Bentley, his hand lingering on the polished door. He turned to Pierre with a half-smile.

"I wouldn't dare forget y'all, although..." He paused, running a hand through his hair.

"Though, you might have to help me fill in the blanks with the others when the time comes."

'So no one realizes I'm not really the Brandon you know...' Brandon added in his mind.

Before Pierre could respond, a blur of blonde hair and perfume rushed towards them.

It was Chloe, one of the salesgirls from earlier, her blue eyes wide with excitement.

"Oh my god, oh my god! It just hit me," she squealed, waving her phone in Brandon's face.

"Are you the mysterious balcony guitar man?"

On the screen, a video of Brandon's morning performance played on loop.

He smiled and nodded, caught off guard by her enthusiasm.

Chloe fumbled in her pocket, pulling out a marker.

"Can I get your autograph?" she asked breathlessly.

Brandon blinked, confused.

"Uh, sure. Do you have a piece of paper or something?"

A mischievous glint appeared in Chloe's eyes. She winked cheekily, her fingers moving to the buttons of her already revealing top.

With a fluid motion, she undid two more, exposing her ample cleavage.

"How about right here?" she purred, leaning closer.

Brandon's mind raced, his heart pounding in his chest.

This was it - his first autograph in two lifetimes.

The moment he'd dreamed of for so long was finally here, albeit in a rather unexpected form.

'Holy shit, this is really happening,'

He thought, his eyes darting between Chloe's expectant face and her exposed cleavage.

'All those years of being behind the scenes, watching others bask in the spotlight, and now...'

A grin spread across his face as inspiration struck.

'This is it,' he mused, his hand slightly trembling as he reached for the marker.

'My first step into the limelight. No more hiding in the shadows, no more being the silent genius producer...'

The weight of the marker in his hand felt significant, almost sacred.

It wasn't just a pen; it was the key to his dreams, the tool that would etch his new identity into existence.

'I wonder if this is how all those stars I produced felt,' he pondered, a mix of excitement and nostalgia washing over him.

'That first autograph, that first taste of fame. God, I've waited so long for this.'

As the marker hovered over Chloe's skin, time seemed to slow.

Brandon's heart thundered in his chest, each beat a reminder of the journey that led him here.

This wasn't just an autograph; it was a declaration, a rebirth, a claim staked on a new world.

With a flourish that belied the trembling of his hand, he signed a simple, yet profound, '13'.