Rewind With A Superstar System-Chapter 93: Absolute HQ!
<🎧 Song Recommendation: Level Up by ShakzN, DJ Dreams>
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The heavy doors of the SUV slammed shut, sealing them inside the air-conditioned cabin. For a full three seconds, nobody said a word.
"I can’t believe he actually posted it," Zack smirked and broke the silence.
Von was even more shocked himself. He looked at the $80,000 cashier’s check that was now in his hands.
"Dude, you just saved me three hundred grand in five minutes," Von said, shaking his head in disbelief.
"But come on, man, it can’t be that easy. Are you sure he won’t retaliate?"
"It’s that easy," Zack laughed. "He’ll probably call some strip-mall lawyer by tomorrow morning to try and fight it. But once his guy does the proper research, he’ll realize Ken has zero chance. You are officially unburdened, my friend."
Von smiled, feeling a weight lift off his chest. The ghost of his family’s financial ruin was finally gone. He turned around in his seat to look at Emily and Naomi in the back.
"So," Von said, rubbing his hands together. "What’s next, Em?"
Emily, who had already transitioned back into full executive mode, was tapping away on her tablet.
"Actually," Emily said, looking up, "the broker for the property I told you about just texted me. He said the current tenants cleared out yesterday, and the cleaning crew just finished. We can go see it right now."
Zack’s ears perked up. He put the SUV in drive and pulled out of the gated community. "Property? You rented a place? So you’re actually planning on settling here in Miami?"
Von nodded, looking out the window at the familiar palm trees. "Yep. New York helped me a lot. It was exactly what we needed to launch. But I want to settle down now. And what better place to do that than home?"
Von paused, shooting a knowing look at his new lawyer. "Plus, we can’t stand those New York state taxes. We’re keeping our LLC registered in Florida. We’re far better off here."
Zack chuckled, impressed by the financial strategy. "Smart move, dawg. Dodging the state income tax on a Top 3 Billboard hit is going to save you enough money to buy a boat. So, what’s the plan for the music?"
"I’m working on an album," Von said simply. "A full, ten-track debut studio album. We’re going to build it right here in Miami."
"I trust you to cook," Zack grinned, tapping the GPS screen on the dashboard. "So, where is this house you guys are talking about? Just give me the address."
Emily read off an address that made Zack’s eyebrows shoot straight up to his hairline. It wasn’t in the suburbs, and it certainly wasn’t an apartment complex. It was located on Venetian Islands, one of the most exclusive, hyper-expensive, man-made islands in South Beach, home to millionaires, celebrities, and big athletes.
"You guys rented a house on Venetian Islands?" Zack asked with a broken voice. "Those places go for like, thirty grand a month."
"We negotiated it down to twenty-five," Emily corrected smoothly with a wink.
Thirty minutes later, the black SUV crossed the guarded causeway and pulled onto the private island. The streets were pristine, lined with towering, manicured hedges that hid massive architectural masterpieces from the public eye.
Zack pulled into a long, circular driveway paved with imported stone. At the end of the driveway sat the house.
It was a sprawling, ultra-modern, two-story mansion made almost entirely of white concrete and floor-to-ceiling tinted glass. It looked less like a house and more like a high-end art gallery.
A sharply dressed real estate broker was waiting for them by the massive, solid-oak front doors. He unlocked the house and gave them the grand tour.
The moment Von stepped inside, he felt like he had entered a different reality.
The ceilings were at least twenty feet high. The entire back wall of the living room was made of sliding glass panels that completely opened up to a massive outdoor patio. Beyond the patio was an infinity-edge swimming pool that seemed to spill directly into the sparkling blue waters of Biscayne Bay.
The house came fully furnished, exactly to Emily’s specifications. There were sleek, low-profile Italian leather sofas, abstract art on the walls, and a massive, open-concept kitchen with matte-black marble countertops.
"It has five bedrooms, all with en-suite bathrooms," Emily explained as they walked through the echoing halls. "There’s a private gym in the basement, a home theater, and most importantly..."
She pointed toward a set of soundproofed double doors near the back of the house.
"...it’s located exactly ten minutes away from the commercial studio where we’ll be locking in," Emily finished. "It makes the logistics perfect. When Patch flies down next week with his gear, he can stay in one of the guest suites, and we can commute to the studio without hitting any major traffic."
Von barely heard her. He was too busy walking out onto the back patio, standing by the edge of the infinity pool, and looking out at the Miami skyline across the water. The sea breeze ruffled his hair.
He thought back to the cramped apartment he would layer move into after dropping out of school. The future was going so far apart and he was really living it.
Now, he was standing in a twenty-five-thousand-dollar-a-month mansion, completely debt-free, with over a million dollars sitting in his corporate bank account. He was really stepping up in life. The Independent King title wasn’t just a gimmick anymore; it was really his reality.
A soft, trilling sound broke his concentration.
Down by his feet, Loki trotted out onto the patio. The Void Lynx had been silently sleeping on the floorboards of the SUV for the entire chaotic afternoon.
Now, she stretched her dark, shadowy limbs in the warm Florida sun, her violet eyes scanning the massive pool area with clear approval.
"Looks like the cat approves of the real estate," Zack laughed, walking up behind him with a bottle of water he had grabbed from the massive smart-fridge.
They spent the next hour claiming their respective rooms. Von naturally took the sprawling master suite on the top floor, which featured its own private balcony and a massive walk-in closet.
Emily claimed the largest guest suite down the hall, already transforming the attached sitting area into her Vanguard home office.
Zack, who was technically just visiting, immediately laid claim to a room with a view overlooking the driveway.
Von walked down the hall to the final, sunlit bedroom where Naomi was standing by the window.
She was looking out at the private dock and the ocean, her hands resting on the glass. She looked completely overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the luxury.
Von leaned against the doorframe, watching her for a moment before speaking.
"Unfortunately, Nana," Von said, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "I have some bad news. You can’t stay with us."
Naomi turned around, her eyes widening in surprise. She looked around the massive, empty room, clearly confused. She hadn’t expected to live here permanently, but the sudden dismissal stung.
"Oh," Naomi said quietly, looking down at her shoes. "Well... I have no problems with that, Von. I know you guys are going to be super busy with the album, and I don’t want to be in the way. I can go back to my apartment—"
Von couldn’t hold the straight face anymore. He let out a loud laugh, pushing off the doorframe and walking into the room.
"You aren’t going back to that rundown apartment, Naomi," Von smiled, shaking his head. "You can’t stay with us because we can only accommodate you for a few weeks. You’re leaving."
He reached into the inner pocket of his Vanguard jacket and pulled out a crisp, heavy envelope bearing a gold-embossed seal. He held it out to her.
"You’re traveling to California by the end of August," Von explained softly as she hesitantly took the envelope. "I made a few calls. Emily leveraged some of the Vanguard corporate connections to bypass the standard waitlists, and I covered the rest."
Naomi looked down at the envelope. Her hands trembled as she broke the seal and pulled out the paper inside.
She read the bold header, and her breath completely hitched in her throat.
California Institute of the Arts - Official Letter of Admission.
"CalArts?" Naomi whispered, her voice cracking. It was arguably the most prestigious, elite art school in the entire country. It was the place she had dreamed of going before the car accident had shattered their lives.
"They are open to taking you in for the Fall semester," Von said, stepping closer. "Everything has been covered. Your tuition, your housing, your art supplies. Everything is paid in full. You’re going to LA, Nana!"
Naomi stared at the letter for a long, silent moment. A single tear slipped down her cheek, hitting the expensive parchment paper. Then another. And another.
Von hadn’t forgotten his promise. Through the reality TV drama, the internet wars, the debt collectors, and the sudden fame, he had kept the one promise that mattered most.
She let out a choked sob, dropping the letter onto the bed, and threw her arms around him. Von hugged her back tightly, resting his chin on her head as she cried into his chest, finally letting go of years of buried dreams.
