SuperStar!

A voice rang out, sharp and incredulous, cutting through the near-silent air of the private airstrip.

"No. No, you can't be serious. How could you even think that—talk less of actually saying it?"

The disbelief in his tone was unmistakable, his voice rising slightly as he tried to process what he had just heard.

A second voice, rougher, more seasoned, but equally frustrated, fired back.

"Dude, I'm not repeating myself. How the fuck do you think he wins? Like, stop playing, man."**

There was an exasperated sigh that followed, the kind that only came when someone felt like they were explaining something painfully obvious to a lost cause.

"Oh my God. You're actually serious."

The first voice came again, this time tinged with something between amusement and outright shock. And if you were one of his hardcore fans—one of the millions who followed his every move, streamed his every song, analyzed every little detail about him—you would have instantly recognized it.

That unique, unmistakable voice belonged to Ethan Jones, the pop superstar whose vocal tone was so distinct that even a few words spoken in passing could identify him. The very same Ethan Jones who was currently trending worldwide after delivering a record-breaking concert in Texas less than twenty-four hours ago.

Yet, despite the fact that he had just set the world ablaze with his performance, despite the fact that he was standing here in a private air terminal in California, despite the fact that he had just made history at the Brit Awards…

He looked completely flabbergasted.

Mouth wide open. Eyes just as wide. His sharp, striking blue eyes, shining under the soft lighting of the terminal, reflected pure disbelief as he stared at the man in front of him. If there had been cameras around, this would have instantly been front-page news on TMZ.

Luckily for him, there was no one else here except for a few security guards, a music video director named Emil, and a stage props guy named Joe—both of whom had been called in for a project they hadn't even discussed yet. The guards had been hired by the very same man Ethan was currently arguing with.

And that man?

Marshall Bruce Mathers III.

Better known as Eminem.

The argument had already been going on for over twenty minutes now, long enough to completely derail the celebratory mood that had been in the air just before it started.

Ethan had no idea how they even got here.

One moment, he had been on the plane, watching the Brit Awards live, eagerly waiting as the presenter built up the suspense before announcing the winner for Album of the Year.

Then… "Adele – 30" was called.

Ethan remembered the disappointment that hit him like a ton of bricks. He wasn't bitter—how could he be? It was Adele. She was a legend. But still… a part of him had really hoped.

That disappointment, however, didn't last long.

Because moments later, they had announced Artist of the Year…

And this time, it was his name that was called.

Ethan Jones – Artist of the Year.

He had beaten out some of the biggest names in music, including Adele—who had just beaten him—and the highly acclaimed rapper Dave. It was a surreal moment, made even better when he tied the record for the most wins in a single night at the Brit Awards.

Four wins.

Only two other artists in history had ever accomplished that—Blur and Adele.

The celebration had been immediate. Calls from his parents, excited messages from his 'friend' Sydney, his team buzzing with energy—he had felt on top of the world. Even though he hadn't broken the record, he had still cemented himself as a part of history.

Then somehow… somehow… that celebratory mood had been hijacked.

By this ridiculous debate.

And who was the person responsible for it?

The very same man who had invited him here.

The same man whose private jet he had been on hours ago.

The same man who had been on stage with him at the AT&T Stadium just hours ago.

Eminem.

"You cannot be for real." Ethan finally spoke again, voice filled with disbelief. "You're just being biased. You have to be, because what do you mean by 'The Punisher' beats Batman? What?!"

His arms flailed slightly, his entire posture screaming what the actual hell am I hearing right now?

Eminem, on the other hand, looked completely unfazed.

With the calm, unbothered expression of a man who had been through far too many of these kinds of arguments in his life maybe not this exact type per se, he simply shrugged and said, "I said what I said."

And just like that, the argument continued.

"Dude, Batman would fuck Punisher up—no jokes. Are you playing right now? Like, how could you even say that?"

Ethan Jones threw his hands up, his blue eyes wide in sheer disbelief. He stared at the man in front of him like he had just committed the ultimate act of blasphemy.

Eminem, standing with his arms crossed, looked entirely unfazed.

"Punisher has fucking guns, and he does not hold back," he shot back. "If Batman tries coming near him with those stupid toys, he's getting toasted."

Ethan let out an exaggerated groan, his frustration evident.

"Come on, man! The Batarang is for sure more dangerous than guns. This whole argument is just because you're biased. Punisher is at most human. People's mistake is comparing Batman to normal human beings. That guy is not human, I tell you. Someone who can fight Darkseid hand-to-hand? Someone who can literally project his soul from his body? No way in hell some dude named Frank is touching him."

Eminem, who had been walking with an air of calm superiority, suddenly paused, as if something Ethan said had physically stopped him in his tracks.

His head tilted slightly, eyebrows furrowing.

"Okay, hold the fuck up. He can what?"

Ethan smirked, sensing an opening.

"I told you. He's not a regular man. He learned it from some monks in Tibet along with way more skills. Batman would destroy Frank."

Eminem scoffed, shaking his head as he threw his hands in the air.

"That's bullshit. There's no way he can just project himself out of his human body. Where the fuck did you even read that?"

Ethan's expression was the definition of I can't believe I have to explain this to you.

"This is exactly what I'm saying! You don't even know Batman like that. You just want Punisher to win 'cause you're biased!"

Their voices echoed across the mostly empty airstrip, bouncing off the sleek private jets stationed nearby. The argument had gone on for so long now that any bystander would have thought they were debating something life-or-death, but anyone who knew these two would understand why this wasn't all that surprising.

For one, Ethan Jones was a massive movie and comic book nerd. He had shouted Spider-Man! during his first-ever tour concert, had referenced superhero movies in multiple interviews, and even had pictures before he blew up at a Comic-Con events.

But even more than him?

Eminem's love for comic books was practically legendary.

His obsession with The Punisher was well known—so much so that he had once appeared on the cover of a Punisher comic in 2009. Also, when Netflix canceled The Punisher series in 2019, Eminem had even taken to Twitter to call them out.

So really, it was no surprise that this particular debate had escalated into a full-blown war of words.

And just when it seemed like it would never end, a feminine voice cut through the heated argument.

"Hello, gentlemen."

Both men turned toward the voice at the same time.

The debate might have just gotten interrupted—but it was far from over.

Announcement

I've decided to write another book! I have four ideas, and I'll be sending you all the outlines. It's up to you to vote on which one I should write—the ball is in your court!

Vote in My Patreon its free

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