Fireworks 1 and 2

Jungle: Chapter Ninety-Two

    "This...has the flow of a rap song."

    "Because it is a rap song," Mia told him plainly.

    "That isn't your usual lane, your typical sound," Drake commented.

    She shrugged. "No, it's not. But...it just poured out of me. I rarely had to stop and think about what to write. It just came out. And that's how it came out, so..." She studied him as he read over the lines. "You think it's trash."

    He shook his head. "It's not trash, Mia."

    "Then what?"

    "I don't even know where to start," he said, lowering into his chair. "I guess I'll start with, are you sure you want to release a song about this? Agreeing to an interview is one thing, but a song...a song would keep people talking throughout the entire duration of your career."

    "Maybe it's a topic that people should discuss more often," she said. "With all of the security cameras that were in that place, why was Trevor allowed to go into the Women's bathroom? We need to be more vigilant, more on point. More aware."

    Drake nodded. "Okay. I'll give you that."

    "What else do you have for me?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

    He chuckled and stroked his beard. "I mean...are you sure you want to venture into rap territory? Rap critics are some of the harshest in the industry. Rap fans are even more harsh. I've been in the game now for more than a half a decade, and they're still comparing me to Tupac - as if I ever attempted to be the next Tupac. As if I ever tried to be the next anything. Taking on rap will draw comparisons to you and Nicki, who people are already saying you resemble physically. Lil Kim. Missy Elliott. You'll be pitted against the greats. So you might want to think about whether or not you're really up for all of that."

    "You don't think I am?"

    "It's not about what I think."

    "Yes, it is," she argued. "Because that's what I care about. You don't think I could rap, if I wanted to?"

    "You are capable of doing anything you set your mind to," he said. "That is what I believe. I've told you that before. I would never doubt what you're capable of. I'm just trying to prepare you for what you would be taking on. The rap game...even if you would just be dabbling once in awhile with a song here and there...it can be brutal. And the comparisons just seem to never stop. You'd also have some of your core fans not liking the new sound. People are resistant to change, a fact proven time and time again. You already know how many of my fans are begging me for a Take Care 2."

    She looked away from him. "So...you read all the way to the end of the song, and that's what you leave me with?"

    He sighed heavily and paused before responding. "Baby...I love the song. I love what you wrote about me in the song. It's...edgy. It's...powerful. It's beautiful. I don't want that to be lost in translation just because I'm concerned about your branding." He paused and ran an index finger across his bottom lip. "The song is good. It's better than good. There are a few things I would change here or there, to improve the flow of it. But we could get 40, Vinylz, or Boi1da to throw an amazing beat behind it. Clean up the hook, because it's all over the place. It would be a certified banger. More than that: it would be an anthem to anyone who's ever felt undermined or bullied. Which is how you should market it, if you go through with releasing it."

    A soft knock sounded on the door.

    "Come in," Drake and Mia said in unison.

    The door opened and Chubbs walked in, followed by Oliver. "You've got a visitor," Chubbs told Mia.

    Mia's brows shot up. "Oliver? You left your cave in Toronto, just to come see me?"

    "Had to check in with you," he said, crossing the room in long strides. Dressed in a pressed black button-down shirt and matching slacks, Oliver managed to look like he hadn't just flown in from across the Canadian border. He looked well-rested and fresh-faced, with his signature brown locks shorn from his head. His bald head gleamed beneath the hospital room lights. "How are you feeling?" he asked, leaning over her bed rail to give her a hug.

    "I feel...like how I look, probably," she said, tucking hair behind her ear. She turned to Drake. "Did you know he was coming?"

    "Who did you think half of those phone calls were from?" Drake asked, handing the notebook over to Oliver.

    Oliver glanced at Drake as he accepted the notebook. "What is this?" He lowered his eyes to the notebook and read a few of the lines. His gaze swiveled over to Mia. "You wrote this?"

    She nodded. "I've been thinking. Drake said that the song has to be polished, which I agree with. But I want someone to find me a good studio in Chicago. We're scheduled to stay there for a few days. So I'll work on polishing the song between now and then, and when we get to Chicago, I want to record the song so we can release it while we're on the road. I figure we can debut the song at the Chicago show to create some buzz for it. By the time I do the Diane Sawyer interview, most people will have heard it. I can use the interview to create more buzz about the song and my upcoming album."

    Oliver and Drake exchanged impressed looks. "You've thought up all of this?" Oliver asked in surprise.

    "She had no help from me, not with that," Drake said, raising both hands into the air. "When did you come up with all of that?"

    "Sometime between your third and fourth nap," she answered sheepishly. "I had a hard time sleeping."

    Oliver shook his head. "You are going to do big things, Mia."

    "You think it's a good plan?" she asked. It had felt like her plan was solid, but she hadn't known for sure.

    "Good?" he echoed. "It's genius. Yes." He lowered his eyes back to the notebook and continued reading. Without looking up, said, "We should have Vinylz create the beat to backdrop this."

    "That's what I was thinking," Drake said. "I'll text him."

    Oliver continued reading, turning his back to Drake and Mia. He paced away from and towards the bed, bobbing his head up and down. "This is an anthem."

    "Also what I was thinking," Drake agreed. "I was warning her about the possible outcome from releasing a rap hit."

    Oliver narrowed his eyes. "Ah. You were good to warn her on that, yeah. The rap game is a beast. It isn't kind, not to anyone."

    "I understand, and I still want to move forward with it," she told them.

    Drake withdrew a flavored toothpick from his jeans pocket and popped it into his mouth.

    Oliver stretched his arms wide. "Well, then. Let the games begin."