Reborn to Rewrite the Spotlight

Chapter 17: The Path Less Traveled

February 2005 – Los Angeles, California

Age: 11 years, 1 month

As the days went by, my decision to walk my own path felt like it was becoming more and more of a reality. The music industry was vast, and though I had rejected Usher's offer, there was still a glimmer of hope on the horizon. My mom, always determined and resourceful, had spent the last few weeks searching for the right people who could help me break into the music world on my own terms. She had finally found someone—a producer named Harv, who had worked with a few artists I recognized.

When she first mentioned his name to me, I kept a neutral expression, not letting on how much I knew about the industry, about him, or how he might be a part of the same system I was trying to avoid. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to think I was too aware of how things worked behind the scenes. I had learned that the more you act naive, the more the truth slips out around you. People tend to reveal their true intentions when they think you're unaware, and I had lived through enough deception in my original timeline to understand how to play the game. So, for now, I would act the part.

---

"Justin, I've found someone who could be a big help to you," my mom said one evening, sitting across from me at the dinner table. "His name is Harv. He's a producer, and he's worked with some big names in the industry. I really think he could help you get your music out there."

I didn't react immediately. Instead, I took a slow bite of my dinner, pretending to think it over. "A producer, huh? That's good. Sounds promising."

Inside, I was calculating every angle. Harv was a name I had heard before, but I knew he wasn't exactly the kind of producer who helped artists out of the goodness of his heart. People like him had their own interests at heart. The industry was about leverage, about connections, and about creating opportunities that could later be exploited. But what would be the harm in letting my mom think this was the right step? It was a necessary step if I wanted to truly navigate the industry my way.

---

That night, after dinner, my mom took out her phone and dialed Harv's number, eager to set up a meeting. I was already formulating my plan, thinking about how I'd interact with him. I would be polite, respectful, but I would stay detached—playing the part of the young, impressionable artist with a lot of potential, but very little understanding of how things really worked. It was a mask I wore well.

The next day, I found myself sitting in a sleek office in Hollywood, the walls adorned with platinum records and framed photos of Harv with various celebrities. He was a man in his late thirties, with sharp features and a polished demeanor. He was exactly what you'd expect from someone in the industry: confident, business-like, and always thinking a few steps ahead.

"Justin, it's a pleasure to meet you," Harv said, extending his hand. His voice was smooth, but there was a calculated edge to it. "I've heard a lot about you. You've got a lot of potential, kid."

I shook his hand, keeping my expression carefully neutral. "Nice to meet you too, Harv. I've heard a lot about you, as well."

He grinned, clearly pleased that I wasn't too starstruck. "I can see we're on the same page. Let's cut to the chase—I think we can make some great music together. I know people, I have connections, and I know how to make things happen. But first, I want to know what you want, Justin. What's your vision?"

I paused, pretending to contemplate the question, though I already knew the answer. I didn't want to be part of the machine. I didn't want to make music just for the sake of it or for fame. I wanted to create something real, something that came from me and only me, untainted by the industry's expectations. But I wasn't going to say that outright. That would make me seem too aware of the power dynamics at play.

"I just want to make music that people can connect with," I said, shrugging nonchalantly. "I want to do something that feels right to me. If people like it, great. If they don't, that's okay too."

Harv's expression softened, but I could see the wheels turning in his head. He was calculating what kind of artist I would be, what kind of value I'd bring to the table. "Well, that's a good start. But you need to remember that the world of music is about more than just talent. It's about who you know, how you position yourself, and how you're marketed. You have to play the game, Justin. And I can help you with that."

I nodded, acting the part of the naive kid. "Yeah, I get it. I'm just here to make good music."

Inside, I was smiling to myself. Harv's words were exactly what I expected. He was trying to sell me the dream, trying to get me to buy into the machine. But I wasn't buying it—not really. I had been in this game before, and I knew exactly how to navigate it without losing myself.

---

The next few weeks were filled with meetings and discussions about potential songs, soundtracks, and producers. My mom was thrilled that we were moving forward with Harv, and I could tell she felt relieved that we had found someone who believed in me. But I wasn't putting all my trust in him. I would keep my distance, play the part, and slowly but surely, I would carve out my own path in this world.

There was one thing I knew for sure: I wasn't going to let the industry define me. If I had to act naive, if I had to pretend I didn't understand how things worked, then so be it. It would only make it easier to uncover the truth and expose the things people tried to hide. I had done it before in my original timeline, and I would do it again in this life.

But for now, I would smile, nod, and play along. The more I acted like I didn't know what was really going on, the more I could learn—and the more I could use that knowledge to my advantage. After all, I had the advantage of experience. And that, in this industry, was priceless.