5 The Booth
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the apartment as Arell and Devon hunched over the computer monitor in the mini-studio. The air crackled with a focused energy – the rhythmic clicks of the mouse and the soft hum of the speakers the only sounds breaking the silence. Brows furrowed in concentration, they scrolled through a seemingly endless library of pre-made beats on a public website, their fingers hovering over the keyboard as if searching for the perfect spark.
Geoffrey, ever the picture of professional composure, perched on a nearby stool. Despite his tailored suit and polished demeanor, a hint of amusement flickered in his sharp eyes as he observed their meticulous selection process.
"Anything catch your ear, gentlemen?" he inquired, his voice a smooth baritone that contrasted with the rhythmic clicks emanating from the keyboard.
"Not quite," Devon mumbled, his brow furrowed as he sifted through a folder labeled "Hip-Hop." "They're all good, but nothing feels… right, you know?" Arell nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I need something with a bit more… soul. Something that hits you in the gut."
Geoffrey, ever the observant one, cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Gentlemen," he began, his tone measured and professional, "might I offer a slightly unorthodox approach?"
Intrigued, both Arell and Devon swiveled their chairs to face him. A knowing smile played on Geoffrey's lips, the glint in his eyes hinting at a wealth of experience." I understand your desire to find the perfect foundation for your music," he continued, his voice dropping to a conversational tone. "However, inspiration doesn't always arrive like a grand announcement. Sometimes, it's a much more… organic process."
A beat of silence followed, then Geoffrey leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Have you ever considered the power of simply starting? Don't wait for a bolt of lightning to strike your creative mind. Sometimes, the spark ignites when you put something down, anything down, to get the ball rolling."
He gestured towards the microphone stand. "Think of it like building a fire. You wouldn't just sit around waiting for a single perfect log to magically appear, would you? You gather kindling, twigs, anything that might catch a flame. Then, with a spark, the fire grows. Your music can be the same way."
Arell and Devon exchanged thoughtful glances. The image of building a fire resonated with them. Perhaps waiting for the perfect beat was like waiting for that mythical perfect log – a strategy destined for frustration.
"So you're sayin' he should create lyrics and then get the beat." Devon trailed off, his voice laced with newfound curiosity.
"I'm saying," Geoffrey interrupted with a hint of a smile, "sometimes the best way to find your voice is to simply start using it. Don't overthink it. Throw down a verse, a melody, anything that stirs your soul. You might be surprised where it takes you."
Across the room, Malik and Kenny were a stark contrast to the focused duo in the studio. sprawled on the worn couch, a beatboxing battle raged with Malik throwing down rhythms, while Kenny countered with a flurry of finger drumming on the coffee table, mimicking the sounds of a drum kit. Their laughter filled the air, a testament to their lighthearted camaraderie.
Suddenly, Kenny stopped mid-beat, Having overheard their conversation. "Yo, Arell, what about just freestyling on a random beat, and posting it on Youtube or something, It'll probably be better practice than taking hours to just find a beat?"
Arell's head snapped up, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. A slow grin spread across Arell's face. "Freestyle, huh? That's not a bad idea. We could even use some of the sounds Malik's throwing down for inspiration." He joked, his eyes then swiftly going over to the system screen
Rapper Stats
Flow: 54
Voice: 58
Lyrics: 25
Production: 53
Performance: 5
Freestyle: 38
Songwriting: 32
Hidden Status' [Unlocked] [Descriptions Locked]
Expansive Vocabulary (Rare)
Ear for Music (Extremely Rare)
Foresight Gambit (Rare)
Street Hustler (Uncommon)
Chicago Streets: Lyrical Inspiration (Uncommon)
'It's a good thing I unlocked those two other parts of the system. Apparently the requirement was to begin attempting to make you're first song. Although my freestyle stat isn't all that good, the Chicago Inspiration and Expansive Vocabulary should make up for that, I do wonder why the descriptions are still locked though, and Ear for Music should have definitely been helping when choosing the beat, probably why I was so picky.'
He glanced at his friend, who was now mimicking a complex drum solo with his fingers. Malik, catching Arell's eye, grinned and threw in a playful cymbal crash with a loud "Pow!"
"Yeah, man," Malik replied, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "Let's see what magic we can create."
Devon, couldn't help but be swept up in the infectious energy. "Alright," a playful glint in his eyes. He turned to Arell, "So, what's the topic? Love, loss, the existential dread of prison cafeterias?"
A burst of laughter erupted from the room, even Geoffrey who was normally poised couldn't help but join in. Arell, feeling a surge of creative energy, glanced over at the dusty window with a thoughtful frown. The late afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the worn furniture.
"Let's just have fun," he declared, his voice firm with purpose.
With a sense of camaraderie, the friends huddled closer to the microphone, the playful atmosphere morphing into a focused intensity. Kenny, inspired by the shift, moved over to the computer and began playing a random beat at a low volume while Geoffrey took picked up a camera that conveniently had a microphone and began recording.
Then, with a barely audible murmur, the first verse began to flow. The room fell silent, save for the soft hum of the speakers, the shuffling Geoffrey's feet as he tried getting a better angle to record at and Arell's voice.
Chicago Streets: Lyrical Inspiration (Uncommon)
Expansive Vocabulary (Rare)
"Okay, Okay, Okay, Yuh," Arell spat, the words tumbling out with raw energy, "I came from the bottom,
some nigga's shadows gotta creep,
Hustle in my blood, gotta grind every damn day, ain't no handouts here fight for my own pay."
His gaze flickered to Geoffrey, who had subtly shifted his position, phone held aloft like a makeshift video camera. Arell smirked internally, the unexpected audience only fueling the fire.
"On the screen, talkin' big bucks…. but they ain't felt the hunger yet. Seen the struggle firsthand, ain't afraid to scrap, this ain't no playground this a concrete trap."
"Five guys in the Stew," he continued, speaking at a slower pace, "gotta pay somethin' or somethin' continues…" He left the sentence hanging
A beat of silence followed, suddenly, Kenny, inspired by the intensity of the moment,
"We ain't talkin' 'bout no playground, this a concrete warzone." He boomed,
A slow grin spread across Arell's face. He bounced off Kenny's energy, weaving the new element into his flow.
"No drugs on me I'm clean… and mean," he growled, his voice picking up a rhythmic cadence. "Stylin' on these haters, yeah, I got that sauce. Dreams bigger than these buildings, gotta break these chains and boss!"
Kenny, feeling the momentum shouted "Big Boss!"
The room erupted in a collective "Yuh!" Geoffrey, even he, couldn't help but crack a smile at their infectious energy. His flow speeding up now, feeling more confident with his flow.
Due to his deep focus he didn't notice the soft notifications going off in the background as he freestyled
[+1 to free styling]
[+1 to flow]
[+1 to Performance]
[+1 to free styling]
[+1 to Performance]
[+1 to Performance]
....
"Some nights these people be pushin' be pushing, I pushem' back, I don't wanna feel misery
Equation of life unbalanced, variables all outta whack, I ain't runnin' no trap…
trapped in a system on the black,
on..the…wire, like the show, but I ain't no puppet, I got my own strings to pull, pull on the lever, release, lets go, Jail house couldn't keep me in, lets go...I was in that jail house, like Lo' and behold, so much of a hustler I might fish right in a fish bowl..."
As Arell continued freestyling, the afternoon sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room. But within the dusty apartment, a different kind of light burned brightly - the light of creativity, camaraderie, and the unwavering belief that they could make something special, together.
—————————————————————————————————————
Name: Arell Rose
Alias: N/A
Stats
Strength: 42/100
Agility: 60/100
Stamina: 43/100
Durability: 54/100
Intelligence: 72/100
Charisma: 65/100 (+15 Boost due to mild handsomeness)
Rapper Stats
Flow: 54 ——> 56
Voice: 58 ——> 58.5
Lyrics: 25 ——-> 29
Production: 53
Performance: 5 ——->14
Freestyle: 38 ——->40
Songwriting: 32
Hidden Stats [Locked]
Business Acumen: 39/100
Marketing: 20
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Hidden Status' (Descriptions Locked)
Expansive Vocabulary (Rare)
Ear for Music (Extremely Rare)
Foresight Gambit (Rare)
Street Hustler (Uncommon)
Chicago Streets: Lyrical Inspiration (Uncommon)
Roulette [Locked]
