Rich and blind

Pills and Problems

Chapter 2

Kuze groaned as he woke up, the sound deep and rough, his head pounding like a jackhammer. Every inch of his body ached, the aftermath of last night’s reckless indulgence. His tongue felt dry, mouth sour from a night he barely remembered. The hangover was brutal. For a few minutes, he lay there on his bed, eyes half-open, staring at the ceiling. He could feel the weight of the night pressing on him, but slowly, he forced himself up, wincing as his muscles protested. His legs felt weak, but he managed to stand, one hand gripping the edge of the bed for support. Stumbling to his dresser, he grabbed the familiar bottle of Xanax. His hands shook slightly as he popped off the cap. With barely a pause, he tossed a few pills into his mouth, swallowing them dry before packing more and chewing. The bitterness spread across his tongue, but he didn’t care. It was routine by now. As the pills started to work their magic, his foggy mind drifted to the vague memory of a girl. The details were blurry—her face, her voice—but he could almost recall the way she had leaned in, dropping clumsy pick-up lines, her intent obvious. A groupie, probably, trying to seduce him after the show. He chuckled, shaking his head, even though he couldn’t be sure. The night was a mess in his mind, fractured pieces of memory that didn’t quite fit together.

”Man, these girls…” he muttered to himself, letting out a low laugh.

His laughter quickly turned into a hum, and soon, the hum transformed into words as a melody started to form in his mind. Before he knew it, he was freestyling, the lyrics flowing without effort.

”Yeah

Fentanyl and Xan both, damn

Yeah (Beep, beep)

Uh (Grah)

She said she wanna love me, I told her to leave my heart alone (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

I hate it when I start to care about these evil ass hoes (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

I know that they don’t love me, they just want my f*****g cash flow (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

These hoes manipulate to gather money, and that’s wrong (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

But who am I to judge? I used to rob and jug and hit them stains (Jug!)

I can’t blame another motherfucker for doing the same thing (Yeah!)

Especially when you broke, that’s the worst pain (Uh-huh!)

But off me, bae, money you will not make.”

As he finished the line, he pulled off his clothes and tied a towel around his waist, still chuckling to himself. His voice echoed through the empty room as he headed to the shower, his mind now free from the weight of the hangover, if only for a while. With one last laugh, he stepped into the bath, letting the water wash over him.

Kuze stood under the hot water, letting the steam cloud his thoughts as the steady rhythm of the shower helped ease the ache in his body. His head still throbbed from last night’s excesses, but for now, he just wanted to enjoy the warmth. As the water cascaded over his shoulders, he heard his phone buzzing faintly from the other room. For a second, he considered ignoring it, figuring it was probably nothing important. After all, he didn’t talk to all that many people regularly. But then, curiosity nagged at him. A call this early, and from one of the few people he did talk to? Maybe it was important.

By the time he finished showering and wrapped a towel around his waist, he glanced at the phone screen to see the missed call: Miyamura. His mind wandered for a moment, hopeful thoughts bubbling to the surface. Could it be? Maybe my album, “We Love Kuze,” went platinum? The idea made him grin, and he let out a soft squeal of excitement at the possibility.

Quickly, Kuze hit redial, holding the phone up to his ear as he leaned against the doorframe

.“Yeah, hello Kuze,” Miyamura’s voice sounded, unusually tense.

Kuze frowned, immediately picking up on the nervous energy in his friend’s tone. “What’s good, bruh? You called?”

There was a brief pause before Miyamura spoke again, his words heavy. “A lawsuit was filed against us.”

Kuze’s heart skipped a beat. “Huh? How come? On what charges?” His voice cracked, the panic already seeping in.

“The beat on Rich and Blind that was interpolated…” Miyamura sighed, clearly stressed. “The owner of the original song said we had no rights to use it, even if we interpolated the beats.”

“f**k…” Kuze muttered, running a hand through his hair. His chest tightened as the weight of the news sank in. “This is bad, man. What are we gonna do?”

“I don’t really know right now,” Miyamura replied, frustration evident in his voice. “But I’ve called your lawyer. We have a meeting scheduled later today.”

Kuze’s throat tightened, the pressure building. “Ah God, what the f**k did I do to deserve this…” He felt the tears brimming in his eyes, the stress, and fear of everything coming crashing down all at once

“Calm down, bruh. Everything’s gonna be okay. Don’t cry, just try to get ready for the meeting.”

Kuze took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. He didn’t want to break down, not now. “A-Alright… I’ll get ready. I’ll hit you up when I’m done.”

Miyamura’s voice softened, relieved. “Yeah, take it easy.”

Kuze hung up the phone and stared at the ceiling, sinking into the bed. His mind swirled with thoughts of the lawsuit, the stress, the uncertainty of it all. He couldn’t help but wonder why his life was like this. Just when things start looking up…With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes, hoping for a moment’s peace.

Kuze lay back, the weight of the lawsuit pressing on him. There was no escaping the chaos, not right now. He glanced at the clock—still too early for his meeting with Miyamura and Nakata. He needed a distraction. Somewhere, miles away, another day had already begun, people moving forward with their lives, while his felt stuck.

(Scene break)

Nini is in front of the mirror adjusting her collar she’s in a corporate wear long white sleeve shirt and black trousers and she let her long hair flow down she looks at the mirror then look at her boobs that’s on the mirror and looks up back

Nini: Alright

Nini leaves her room and her house and gets into her car to head for the studio session she has that day

In a few minutes Nini arrives at the studio where she sees some of her friends are already there and her producer

The music studio is a balanced mix of technology and creativity. Dim LED lights give the room a calm, focused atmosphere. At the center, the large mixing console glows with an array of colorful buttons and sliders, while high-end speakers deliver clear sound from all sides. The walls are covered in soundproofing foam, arranged in a grid pattern to optimize acoustics.Through a glass window, the recording booth holds a microphone on a sturdy stand, surrounded by acoustic panels to capture every vocal detail. Nearby, racks of audio equipment—amps, processors, and effects—are neatly organized. A leather couch, slightly worn from long sessions, sits against the wall, usually cluttered with notebooks, water bottles, and empty coffee cups.Framed records or posters of successful albums decorate the walls, adding an inspirational touch. The room hums with quiet energy, a space where sound is crafted with precision, yet the vibe is relaxed, designed for both creativity and serious work.

Hatoru took off his headphones and leaned back in his chair, the glow of the studio monitors reflecting in his eyes. “Nini, I think the chorus needs a bit more energy. It’s not hitting as hard as I imagined.”

Nini nodded thoughtfully, her fingers drumming on her knee. “Got it. Miyu, what do you think? Any ideas to bring that extra punch?”

Miyu, flipping through her notebook, glanced up. “Hmm, maybe we could layer in some harmonies and add a little more reverb to the vocals. It might give it that lift.”“I like that idea,” Nini said, a spark of excitement in her voice. “And maybe we could add a subtle synth line in the background for more depth?”

Hatoru leaned forward, his hands already moving across the keyboard. “Sure thing. I’ll make those adjustments. Let’s give it a listen and see how it feels.”

Miyu hesitated for a moment before speaking up again. “Also, Nini, I’ve been thinking about the bridge. I have a few new lyrics that might fit really well. Do you want to hear them?”

Nini’s eyes lit up. “Absolutely. Let’s hear what you’ve got.”

Miyu cleared her throat and began reading from her notebook. “Okay, here it goes. ‘In the moonlight, we’re dancing on our own, shadows whisper secrets we’ve always known.’”Nini smiled, her voice soft but full of admiration.

“That’s beautiful, Miyu. It adds such a poetic touch. I can already imagine it blending perfectly with the melody.”

Hatoru, adjusting the mix, nodded in approval. “Alright, I’ve made the changes. Let’s run through it with the new elements and see how it sounds.”

“Great! I’m excited to hear the final version,” Nini said, her anticipation evident.

Miyu nodded, her eyes gleaming with the same excitement. “Me too. This is going to be amazing.”

Hatoru grinned, his fingers poised over the play button. “Here we go. From the top!”

The track started playing, filling the studio with a rich, energetic sound. Nini and Miyu exchanged excited glances as the song evolved, the music growing with each new adjustment. The air buzzed with the thrill of creation.

As the music played on, Nini smiled, the tension easing out of her body. She felt like she could lose herself in the sound, letting each beat carry her somewhere far from the stresses of her everyday life.

(Scene break)

Back at Kuze’s apartment, the air felt heavy. A knock on the door echoed through the quiet space, pulling him from his thoughts.

Kuze sat on the couch in his living room, a low hum of anxiety vibrating in his chest. The room was dim, the late afternoon light filtering through the curtains, casting long shadows over the minimalist décor. His place was neat, but there was an emptiness to it—bare walls and furniture that felt more functional than lived-in. On the glass coffee table, his phone vibrated for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, notifications stacking up from social media, texts, and emails. He hadn’t bothered to check most of them. Today wasn’t the day for that. A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. Kuze stood up, hesitated, then crossed the room to open it. Miyamura stood on the other side, wearing a calm expression, though Kuze could sense the seriousness beneath it.

”Yo,” Kuze greeted, stepping aside to let him in.

Miyamura nodded and stepped inside, followed by a man in a dark suit, carrying a leather briefcase—Nakata, the lawyer.

”Kuze, this is Nakata-san,” Miyamura introduced, gesturing to the lawyer as they made their way into the sitting room.

”Nice to meet you,” Kuze mumbled, shaking Nakata’s hand before sinking back onto the couch. The tension in his body made it feel like he hadn’t fully sat down.

Nakata took a seat across from Kuze, his movements professional and measured. He opened the briefcase on his lap, taking out a series of documents and laying them on the table.

”Alright, let’s get down to it,” Nakata began, his voice calm but firm. “The lawsuit. The plaintiff claims that the beat used in Rich and Blind was unlawfully interpolated from an older song they own the rights to. Essentially, they’re saying you didn’t have proper clearance, and they’re looking for damages.”

Kuze stared at the documents, the words swimming in front of him. His chest tightened. “Rich and Blind…” That song had been his breakthrough, his heart and soul poured into it. Now, it was being threatened.

“So, what does this mean for me?” he asked, voice low, almost dreading the answer. “Could I… lose everything?”

Nakata’s expression remained neutral, though he didn’t sugarcoat the situation. “It’s possible they could claim damages that would cut into your profits from the song. It depends on how aggressively they want to pursue this. We’ll have to assess whether it’s better to settle out of court or prepare for a legal battle.”

Kuze felt the room tilt slightly. His breath caught in his throat as panic started to set in. He glanced at Miyamura, hoping for some kind of reassurance.

“Look, Kuze,” Miyamura said, sensing his unease. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I know this seems like the end of the world right now, but it’s just another challenge. We’ll figure this out, man. You’re not gonna lose everything.”

Kuze nodded, but the words didn’t fully sink in. He felt his hands tremble slightly, the pressure building in his chest like a weight he couldn’t shake off. His gaze shifted to the side table, where a half-empty bottle of lean sat, the one he’d mixed earlier in the day. He hesitated, then reached for it, unscrewing the cap and taking a quick sip.

Miyamura frowned but didn’t say anything, watching Kuze with a concerned expression. Kuze felt the warmth of the lean spreading through him, dulling the edges of his panic, but not erasing it completely.

Nakata continued, oblivious to Kuze’s inner struggle. “If we decide to settle, we could minimize the damage financially. However, if the plaintiff is unreasonable with their demands, we’ll need to prepare for court. That’s where things could get costly—both in terms of money and time.”

Kuze blinked, trying to process everything. The lean was calming his nerves, but it couldn’t take away the reality of the situation. “So… what do we do now?”

Nakata closed his folder, his gaze steady. “I’ll reach out to their legal team and see what their position is. We’ll know more once we have their demands on the table. From there, we can decide whether to settle or fight.”

Kuze nodded, but his mind was still racing. Would this be it? Would this lawsuit destroy everything he had worked for?

He took another sip of lean, trying to quiet the doubts swirling in his head. “I don’t know, man…” Kuze muttered, rubbing his forehead. “It feels like everything’s coming down at once.”

Miyamura glanced at him, his tone softer now. “I get it, Kuze. But you gotta trust that we’ll get through this. Don’t let it mess with your head. You’ve got more in you than just one song.”

Kuze wanted to believe him. He really did. But the pressure was crushing him. His career, his future—it all felt like it was hanging by a thread, and one wrong move could snap it.

Nakata stood, closing his briefcase. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I have more information. In the meantime, try not to worry too much. We’ll handle this.”

As Nakata left, Kuze leaned back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling, the bottle of lean still in his hand. His mind was swirling, the dull haze of the drug softening the sharpness of his fear, but doing nothing to quiet the deeper sense of dread.

Miyamura stayed behind, watching Kuze for a moment before standing. “Kuze, you’re gonna be alright. But you gotta stay focused, okay?”

Kuze nodded, but his thoughts were miles away. Could one lawsuit take everything away from him? Would people still listen to him? Would they think he was just a fraud?As the door clicked shut behind Miyamura, Kuze took another sip, sinking deeper into the couch.