Agora Hills

one

Chapter One

October 3, 2024

Sitting in the plush, chic studio where Angie Martinez and I were set to chat, I could feel the energy buzzing around us. This was a big moment for me, not just because I was talking to a legend in the industry, but because I was finally peeling back the layers of my life for the world to see. Angie leaned in, her signature curiosity sparkling in her eyes, and I knew I was in for an authentic conversation.

"You've been releasing music for more than a decade now and there's still so much people don't know about you," she said, her voice smooth and inviting. "Like how you were adopted at sixteen by your neighbor."

I nodded, feeling a rush of nostalgia mixed with relief. It was a story I hadn't shared in depth before, but now felt like the right time. "My adoptive father was my neighbor, who took me in after my parents were arrested to keep me out of the system," I began, my voice steady but tinged with emotion. "He was my legal guardian at first, then six months later, my parents signed their rights away, and he adopted me."

"What was that like for you?" Angie's follow-up felt gentle, like she truly wanted to understand.

"Honestly, it's the best thing to happen to me," I replied, feeling the warmth of gratitude wash over me. "I had known my father for years as my neighbor before the adoption. He was so protective of me. I was always... I am still safe with him. It was crazy at first, you know? I was angry that my birth parents failed me, but it was a blessing in disguise because I don't know if I would be here in life if that situation hadn't happened."

The words flowed out, each one steeped in my past, but also illuminating how that past shaped the artist I had become. My father's unwavering support had been a bedrock for my music career. He was there at every small gig, every open mic, encouraging me to keep going, to find my voice.

As the conversation turned to my music, I could feel the excitement bubbling up inside me. "My adoptive father encouraged me to pursue my passion. He kept me grounded and always reminded me to stay true to myself, no matter how wild the industry can get." I smiled, thinking of him cheering me on from the front row during my first big show. "Even though I have my own house, I still live with my adoptive parents. They told me if I move out, they'll move in with me."

Angie raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "They literally told you if you move out, they'll move in with you? So, it's like, you might as well stay at home?"

I laughed, nodding. "Exactly! It's this whole supportive vibe we've got going on. I mean, I love having them around. They keep me balanced. And let's be real—who doesn't love home-cooked meals?"

We both chuckled, but there was an underlying truth in my words. The idea of home had always been complex for me. It wasn't just a place; it was a feeling of belonging, of being supported no matter how chaotic life got. And I was lucky to have that.

"What if you get married?" Angie probed, her tone light but her curiosity sharp.

I leaned back in my chair, considering my response carefully. "I'm buying a compound," I said, a grin spreading across my face. "I want space for my parents, my future family, maybe even a recording studio. I love the idea of creating a little world where everyone feels at home, where we can all thrive."

Angie nodded, clearly impressed. "That's bold. It reflects your artistic vision too—remaking musical megastardom in your own fearlessly trippy image. You've always done things your way."

The idea of remaking musical megastardom had been a driving force for me. I wanted to redefine what it meant to be a successful artist in today's world. The industry often felt boxed in, rigid, and I had no interest in conforming. I was determined to be authentically me—colorful, chaotic, and completely unfiltered.