Devil’s Music - Chapter 113: Drop The Beat!

Ice Cube turned his body towards Dre, pointed at Kay with his finger, widened his eyes, and smirked. Dre, seeing Ice Cube, loosened his fist, laughed, and gestured towards the door.

“Let’s go in.”

As Ice Cube sensed someone outside the door, he extended his neck and looked at the door. A white man, wearing a gray hoodie, with a hood covering his head, entered. Ice Cube extended his fist and laughed.

“Yo, home dude? Long time no see.”

The white man, responding in the unique greeting style of black people, shook Ice Cube’s fist as if it was nothing unusual.

“Hey, Ice! It’s been a while. Found a killer vocalist, huh? Heard him outside, gave me the chills.”

Ice Cube, with a bright face, grabbed the white man’s fist and spoke.

“Got a party going on, why are you here instead of there?”

“Oh, I came to get you. Let’s have a drink after a long time.”

“Oh? Alright. Let’s finish what we’re doing and go.”

The white man, flipping his hood, looked at the figures singing in the recording studio and said.

“Is that Kay, Dre?”

Dre nodded with his hand in his pocket.

“Yeah, they call him the genius boy. Met him in person, and he’s truly a crazy genius.”

The white man raised his eyebrows and turned to Dre.

“Is he as good as you claim?”

“Yeah, he is. Not many people surprised me, but he did.”

The white man pointed to himself jokingly.

“Like me?”

Dre laughed, revealing his white teeth.

“Yeah, like you. Similar when I first saw Snoop.”

“Well, I won’t argue with that.”

“But his impact is stronger. He’s not into hip-hop like Snoop.”

“Isn’t he a rock guy? Heard he vibes well with Marilyn Manson, Santana, and Pantera.”

“He likes rock, but he’s still a student, experimenting with different genres.”

As Geon felt popularity outside the window, he turned his head and saw people watching him. ‘Eminem?’ Geon, after removing his headphones, blankly looked at Eminem outside the window. When Eminem saw Geon and waved, Geon quickly went outside and shook hands with him.

“I’m the whitest black guy you’ll meet, Kay. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, yes. I’m more than pleased. A fan, really!”

Eminem chuckled and said, “Thanks for saying that. But these days, you’re hotter than me.”

Dre playfully teased Eminem, who laughed while looking a bit serious. When Kay openly complimented the two, it felt awkward. Geon sent a glance to Dre, indicating only him to understand.

“By the way, Uncle. What does Kay’s singing and getting cursed have to do with each other?”

Dre sighed, placing his hand on his waist.

“Think about it. Kay understands you personally, not all of Korea. If he features on your album, Koreans might curse him.”

As Ice Cube understood this, he looked somewhat gloomy. Seeing that, Geon approached Ice Cube and knelt down, making eye contact.

“Shall I do it? I’m okay with it.”

Ice Cube widened his eyes and asked.

“What? You don’t mind if Koreans curse you? Wasn’t Korea a country that doesn’t recognize artistic freedom much? I heard many people get criticized for saying anything here.”

Geon signaled to Dre discreetly, making sure only he could understand.

“Don’t fear the shadows. The existence of shadows means there’s light somewhere nearby.”

Ice Cube looked at Geon seriously and then glanced at Dre. Seeing Dre’s eyes slightly shaking, Ice Cube extended his fist to Geon and said.

“A wise saying. Can I use it in my lyrics?”

Geon smiled and bumped fists with him. As they laughed, Eminem, checking his wristwatch, said.

“Alright, I’m going to be late for the party. Kay, you too, let’s go.”

“Huh? What kind of party is it? I can’t drink alcohol.”

Eminem put both hands in the hoodie pocket and walked towards the door, pulling it down.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter. Let’s go greet Snoop. You know Snoop Dogg, right? It’s his party.”

As soon as Eminem mentioned Snoop Dogg, Geon’s face lit up.

“Wow! Okay, let’s go say hi! Haha, going to a party of rappers I only heard about in dreams, it’s like a dream come true. Haha.”

Chattering excitedly, the group left the studio and got into Dre’s car, heading to the club where Snoop was hosting a party. Ice Cube became friendlier with Geon after receiving a song from him, and Eminem, though having a slightly serious demeanor, was generally friendly, fitting well with everyone. While Geon was looking at the streets of Compton through the window, he suddenly whispered to Ice Cube.

“Um… is the party of rappers like those wild ones with drugs, as seen on TV?”

Ice Cube was about to burst into laughter but restrained himself, looking at Dre sitting in the front seat. He spoke quietly.

“No one does drugs in front of Uncle. Unless you want to get beaten or worse. It’s tough to make a living if you go against Uncle’s eyes in this neighborhood.”

Geon nodded, and soon the car stopped. Looking outside, Geon saw a club with a bright neon sign that read ‘Club Compton.’ Typically, American clubs have people dressed extravagantly, waiting in line, but here, four massive black security guards were the only ones visible, and there seemed to be no apparent guests.

As Dre and Eminem were about to enter, Geon turned around and said to the security guards.

“He’s with us too.”

The security guard with sunglasses nodded lightly, gesturing for them to enter. The four went down the stairs from the club entrance to the underground. The music, audible even before reaching the bottom, transformed into an enormous sound as soon as Dre opened the door.

The dark interior of the club entered Geon’s eyes. A DJ stood at the turntable box, wearing headphones and dancing, while sporadically, both Black and White women performed sexy dances throughout the relatively quiet club. In the center of the club, four large sofas were attached, with a few people sitting, drinking. The booming sound of music echoed through the speakers, and it was Dr. Dre’s track, ‘The Next Episode,’ featuring Snoop Dogg, Kurupt, and Nate Dogg.

Dre and Eminem made their way to the sofa, settling down comfortably.

“Hey, Snoop. We’re here,” Dre announced.

Snoop Dogg, with dreadlocks and sunglasses, raised one hand and grinned. “Yo, you here?”

As Dre casually sat on the sofa, he gestured towards Ice Cube and Geon, saying, “Hey, there are some people I want you to meet. This is Geon. He’s a friend doing something with me. He’s into music.”

Geon, at Dre’s introduction, approached the sofa where Snoop Dogg was sitting. “Hello, I’m Geon. Huge fan. I’ve always wanted to meet you.”

Snoop Dogg, lowering his sunglasses to get a better look at Geon, replied, “Oh, you’re the one. Well, welcome, my friend. Into music, huh? And you’re Asian?”

Eminem, with both feet up on the sofa and arms around his knees, interjected, “He’s not just a hip-hop guy, and that kind of talk is racial discrimination, Snoop.”

Snoop Dogg, after glancing at Eminem, shrugged and looked at Geon. “Oh, didn’t mean it that way. I thought you were into hip-hop.”

Geon shook his head, saying, “No, Snoop. It’s okay.”

Snoop Dogg, lowering his sunglasses completely and looking at Geon, then glancing back at Eminem, finally shrugged again, saying, “Ah, didn’t mean it that way, so don’t misunderstand. I thought you were into hip-hop.”

Geon shook his head, saying, “No, Snoop. It’s okay.”

Snoop Dogg, lowering his sunglasses completely and looking at Geon, then glancing back at Eminem, finally shrugged again, saying, “Ah, didn’t mean it that way, so don’t misunderstand. I thought you were into hip-hop.”

Geon shook his head, saying, “No, Snoop. It’s okay.”

Snoop Dogg then pointed towards a corner, saying enthusiastically, “Anyways, there’s always a stage ready. It’s over there.”

Geon looked where Snoop pointed, spotting a Fender Telecaster guitar next to the DJ turntables. Geon checked the guitar and then, with Dre’s and Eminem’s lack of assistance evident, approached the microphone stand prepared by the DJ.

“Uh… suddenly asked, so I’m not sure what to do. If I play rock here, I might get beat up, right? Haha.”

People in the club laughed along with Geon’s remark.

“Just do whatever!” someone shouted.

“Yeah, like, who cares!” another voice joined in.

Realizing the supportive atmosphere, Geon continued, “Okay, then.”

Geon, in a moment of spontaneity, started playing the reggae rhythm on his guitar. The atmosphere instantly changed as everyone watched with curiosity. It was Bob Marley’s “No Woman No Cry.”

“No woman, no cry,” Geon sang, his voice lower and more profound than Bob Marley’s, resonating throughout the club.

Geon had not tried to imitate Bob Marley’s unique voice or style. Instead, he presented the song in a lower, more sincere tone, as if soothing a wounded woman’s back, emphasizing the emotions of the lyrics.

The clubgoers, who were initially enjoying the upbeat atmosphere, gradually began to feel the emotion Geon was pouring into the song. Geon never took his eyes off Dre, as if asking him to listen, to pay attention to his words.

As if urging them to listen carefully to the message he wanted to convey.

The clubgoers, including those sitting on the sofas sipping drinks, began to sense something special. Dre’s gaze towards Geon deepened, captivated by the performance.

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