Top Idol

"What if I told you there is a way to break free?"

Silent and unsure, Lenny inquired, "And what would that be?"

"Simple... be reborn." The stranger said.

[Become the Top Idol, and the Creator shall grant your deepest desire. Do you accept the invitation?] 

[Yes] / [No]

...

A motorcade of three black luxury sedans came to a thunderous halt before a dilapidated house nestled in the well-known poor-class area, Queensgate.

Six men impeccably dressed in black suits emerged from the vehicles, each sporting dark shades and standing with military precision. 

The man standing at the front passenger door of the middle sedan, reached for the handle of the rear door, bowing as he swung it open.

Stepping out onto the weathered concrete, a pair of shiny leather Ferragamo oxfords worth a staggering 1,400 dollars revealed themselves, belonging to a young man. 

His dark brown hair, meticulously styled with a selection of high-end hair products, created a striking contrast with the lack of intensity in his brown eyes. His angular face and pale complexion glistened under the sun, most likely due to a slight touch of makeup.

Though slightly shorter than six feet, he was adorned in a corporate Ralph Lauren pinstripe twill suit with a cream-black pinstripe poplin shirt underneath. These garments collectively worth over 6,000 dollars seemed slightly oversized for his slender frame, lending him an almost comical air of sophistication.

A black square-patterned silk crepe tie was elegantly knotted around his neck, and adorning his left wrist was a stainless steel Rolex Oyster Perpetual 'Air King' with a striking blue dial and worth over 11,000 dollars.

His entourage of suited men with jet-black sunglasses swiftly ascended the old steps leading up to the dilapidated bungalow and formed a protective corridor down to the car door for their boss, who was about to enter.

The commotion and screeching vehicles had drawn the attention of several residents in this poor-class neighborhood. 

Among them was a frail middle-aged woman who came out from the dilapidated bungalow. Draped in layers of worn-out clothes to shield her from the cold, she stood at the opened door of the house, her face beaming with a wide smile.

Several on-lookers of diverse backgrounds stood in sheer awe and disbelief. 

"Could that be little Lenny?"

"No way, it can't be. It's been ages since I saw the kid, but that certainly can't be Lenny."

"Hey, Lenny, my boy. Don't say you forgot old Frank here?" Some random pauper screamed, bearing no semblance of pride.

Another voiced, "So Sarah wasn't lying when she said he left for school all those years ago?"

A grainy, old voice commented, "Heh, the lad must have hit it big in the city!"

The lady neighbor across the road clicked her tongue. "Tsk. Sarah's a lucky one. If only my James was more like him, going to school and getting a job. Instead, that boy just idles about with his dumb friends who are always getting into trouble…"

Her friend boasted. "Too bad for you. My daughter's getting married to a well-off man. Soon, I'll be dining with the rich fellas, eating all sorts of delicacies every day, and living in luxury. I'm just happy I'll be leaving here soon enough."

The old, grainy voice from earlier mused, "Hmm, I wonder if this is the mentality that keeps us poor…"

"Isn't that the man she complains about beating her? Didn't you say he was into drugs too?" The lady neighbor asked her friend sardonically.

"H-Hey, watch your mouth! I never said that. My son-in-law isn't a drug addict!"

Ignoring the not-so-subtle whispers of the slum dwellers, Lenny walked up to his mother, Sarah, and knelt on one knee, then extended his hand which held a flower bouquet.

"Ma, I have returned." 

He spoke with a calm, dignified smile. His voice, like a knight returning from the battlefield, had a deep baritone, though it sounded forced. 

"Oh, my son, you've come to see me?" 

Tears glistened in Sarah's eyes as she wore a grateful smile. She accepted the bouquet and embraced her son.

To the onlookers, this scene resembled one out of a fairytale, where the hero returned triumphant. However, in this city, the City of Promise, Neapolis, such sights were rather commonplace.

Lenny soon turned around and added. "I also bring gifts."

With a snap of his fingers, one of his bodyguards hurried forward, head bowed, carrying a gift basket filled with provisions and a few items of clothing, which he handed over.

"Oh, you really didn't need to," Sarah humbly said, her hands clasped before her chest as she beamed.

A few brave slum dwellers had attempted to approach, calling out Lenny's name and reminiscing about their shared memories, but their pleas fell on deaf ears as the bodyguards prevented them from getting too close. 

Lenny, on the other hand, didn't even spare them a glance.

Sarah gently raised her hand and caressed her son's face. She asked worriedly, "Have you been eating well? It's been so long since I saw you. Come inside, I was even about to make your favorite soup. Oh, but it might not be enough for all of your friends. No, I'll use all my reserves, I must treat you all today to a great meal. It will be just like before…"

Lenny gently placed his hand on her frail, delicate hands before slowly lowering it and averting his gaze as he spoke. 

"Ma, I wish I could stay longer… but there's a meeting I have to attend soon. I must get going."

Sarah's facial muscles shifted slightly, briefly revealing her disappointment before she swiftly composed herself and nodded repeatedly. 

"Yes, yes, of course… I'm very sorry. You are now a very busy man, but you still came to see me. I'm so happy. Thank you. I know how hard you worked to get here…"

Her motherly smile remained as she added, "I am so proud of you."

Lenny looked wistful for a brief moment before he put himself back in his mother's embrace. This time, he wasn't going to let go so fast.

Shortly after, Sarah stood outside her dilapidated bungalow house, waving joyously as her son's luxurious motorcade sped away.

…

Scrrrrr~

The three-car motorcade screeched to a halt in a densely populated urban area, surrounded by dilapidated apartment buildings four to nine stories high. Overhead, power lines ran from building to building in a jumbled mess.

Unlike before, Lenny opened the car door himself and stepped out, stretching his limbs with a long yawn. He leaned against the car as he loosened the knot of his tie.

From the car in front, a suited man with jet-black sunglasses, one of Lenny's bodyguards, came out. 

Sporting a neatly combed long brown hair that reached his shoulders, he asked as he approached Lenny.

"So, what do you rate the performance?"

Lenny briefly glanced at the questionnaire before turning his head to the side.

"Oh, Dez. I'd say it was a 9 out of 10, I guess," he replied casually. 

His voice was significantly less baritone and impressionable than before, even highlighting a tone of aloofness and unseriousness.

Desmond, with his squared jaw and neatly trimmed mustache, removed his jet-black glasses perched atop his low-bridged nose to reveal his light-yellow eyes. 

He nodded with a smile, "That means the boys did well."

Lenny smiled too. "Yeah, but you're the reason we're missing one point. You should touch up on your acting skills."

Desmond let out a brief laugh. "Must you always be an arse? I was quiet the whole time, how could anyone screw that up?"

Lenny just shrugged. "I don't know, but you managed it."

In the spur of the moment, Desmond sought to voice his thoughts. He retorted, "And you, didn't you plan to act as a rude and arrogant, rich, spoiled brat?"

Lenny's furrowed brows relaxed as he let out a dry laugh. "Heh, I just couldn't do it. I hadn't seen her for so long."

Desmond contorted his face, confused. He quipped, "You know, now I'm curious. Why pull off such a stunt?"

Lenny scoffed. "Bet if I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

Intrigue filled Desmond and he exclaimed humorously, "What? We're in vice city, man. I bet I've heard crazier shit."

Lenny shook his head, adamant. "No, man. This is way crazier."

Taking the hint that he didn't wish to talk about it, Desmond shrugged it off.

"Alright, I guess I'll just see it as the regular dream life facade. But my goodness, what people do for attention. So…"

"So what?" Lenny inquired.

"My cash, what else?" 

'Dammit…' Lenny cursed under his breath before taking out a slightly thick brown envelope and handing it to Desmond.

Desmond clasped the envelope and attempted to retract his hand. Lenny, however, maintained a firm grip on it.

He dragged again, but Lenny still held onto the envelope firmly with an innocent smile on his face. This silent back and forth went on for almost half a minute.

Still holding up a smile, a vein popped at the corner of Desmond's head. He paused and looked at Lenny, who still acted oblivious, before abruptly dragging the envelope, causing the latter to lose grip. 

Desmond quickly put the envelope in his back pocket and tore the silence by asking, "You're still up for that job, right?"

Lenny's hand hung in the air for a moment, as though he couldn't accept the reality of departing with that envelope.

"Maybe." He said, his tone laced with a hint of bitterness.

"Those people are great customers. For the love of God, don't disappoint. I mean, how hard is clowning anyway?"

With that, they bid each other farewell, and the black sedans zoomed off, leaving Lenny standing on the side of the road.

Sluggishly, Lenny entered the aged five-story apartment building right across from him.